ncisficathon | Ligers and Tigons and Tony, Oh My (Part 8/?) for Spoonyriffic

justhuman.livejournal.com posting in

***Continuation of a Round 4 (2009) Ficathon story. Please check out the Round 5 stories.***

Title: Ligers and Tigons and Tony, Oh My (Part 8/?)
Author:

justhuman
Written for:

spoonyriffic
Prompt: Tony/Gibbs - Supernatural (the genre, not the show) - a series of strange killings in DC leave our favorite NCIS team puzzled, and soon it is revealed that there is something more nefarious behind it all. First Time fic. Rating between R or NC-17, whichever is best for the fic.
Archive: Please ask
Genre: teamfic, adventure, romance
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo, mentions of canon pairings and maybe a surprise
Rating: NC-17 overall, PG this section
Disclaimer: CBS
Word Count: 10,624 this part
Summary: While working a case, Tony runs into a problem with potentially deadly consequences. Now it's up to the team to do what they do best and investigate until they find a solution.

A/N: Many thanks to

tejas for the beta assistance in this part. As always, all mistakes are mine.

Part 1 - Harvest Moon
Part 2 - After the Harvest Moon
Part 3 - Hunter's Moon
Part 4 - Hunter's Dawn
Part 5 - Drag Hunt
Part 6a - Hunter's Bloodhound
Part 6b - Hunter's Bloodhound
Part 7 - Hunter's Lead

Part 8 - Making Game

***Tuesday October 6, Two Days after the Full Moon***

Tony woke up in the cage. He was lying on a pile of shredded blankets and fur. It was his shredded blanket, but instead of being in the back corner of the cage, it was up against the bars.

"Abby?"

"I'm sleeping," she replied, blearily.

Tony rolled over, looked through the bars, and saw Abby on the other side of the green line, snuggled up on the old mattress and covered with Gibbs' blanket. "Do you talk in your sleep?"

She sat up and frowned at him. "How would I know if I do that, if I'm asleep?" She rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye. "You don't talk human words when you're a werewolf - does that mean you're Tony?"

Tony sat up, brushing off hair. "I think I'm me. I won't know until I take a shower."

With a nod, Abby pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "Sleeping in the basement sucks."

"The floor's hard, but at least it's cool."

"It's freezing."

"I suppose, if you don't have jacked up metabolism and a fur coat, like me," Tony said, brushing off more hair.

Abby pointed at the bars. "You tried to share that fur with me last night. You pushed all your blanket pieces, dinner bones, and I’m not sure what else up against the bars."

"Probably because I wasn't afraid that you'd steal my stuff. But that's good, right? I was being social," Tony asked.

"Maybe. You did that after you gave up trying to lure me in with pieces of goat."

"Goat," Tony said and pulled a large, gnawed bone out of the pile of blankets. Much like Abby was wrapped in Gibbs' blanket and Tim was sweat socks, this was Tony's bone. He knew that he wasn't going to share this bone. He couldn't think of a single reason he'd wanted it, but that didn't mean anyone else was getting it. There was no way that sounded good in his head, but that was the way it was.

"Yeah, you tossed goat at me. At first I thought there was something wrong with it, but then I was thinking you were trying to share."

"Sharing's good," Tony said, feeling more hopeful about the bone situation.

"Well, sharing is good most of the time. I picked up the goat scraps with gloves and tweezers and put them into specimen jars. I was hoping to get a saliva sample. Even if it didn't have werewolf germs, I wasn't going to eat off the of the basement floor."

Tony brushed more fur off his skin. "That's good too - well, not the eating off the basement floor." In his head, Tony tried to pretend that it would stop him when he was hungry. "But I'm helping with the research even when I'm a wolf."

"Kinda," Abby said.

"Kinda?"

"Yeah, you kept tossing pieces, and they were getting closer and closer to the cage. Let's just say you were being another kind of wolf, a really obvious one."

"Sorry," Tony grimaced as he stood up, bringing a handful of shredded blanket to cover himself. "Hey, you're in Gibbs' spot, how did the wolf-me take that?"

Abby thought about it for a moment and then shrugged as she got up. "I had forgotten about the whole territorial thing you did with Tim and this spot. I suppose you looked surprised. It's hard to tell with the fur and the fangs. But you didn't howl. In fact, you whined a little. Then you bounced around the cage, but you just do that a lot anyway."

Abby picked up the key from the table and went back to the cage door. "After that, you pushed your blankets up against the bars. I was tired, so I told you not to break out and eat me. Then I went to sleep." Leaning against the cell, she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Tony put his shoulder against hers through the bars. His nose filled with the scent of dragonflies dozing on vanilla iced donuts. "What do you think that means?"

Abby shrugged, shook her head and then jumped when a vibrating noise came from her pocket.

As she pulled out her phone, Tony asked, "What should we do?"

Abby opened her phone, but before she could put it to here ear, Gibbs' voice came through.

"Are you two sleeping on my time? Get your asses in gear!"

Tony stood a little straighter, but Abby slumped a little further as Gibbs gave them a terse version of the minions' to-do list.

Trying to cheer Abby up, he said, "You have evidence to process."

"I know; that's good."

"But you don't look happy; being bossed around five minutes after you wake up is not happy making." Tony slumped back against the bars.

"Last night was kind of busy, because you howled every time I left you to go pee. I was just hoping for an hour or two this morning to solve the mystery."

"If you think you can solve my problem in two hours, I'll cover for you with Gibbs."

Abby blinked at him. "No, not that. If I could have solved that in two hours, I'd have outed you to the press and published a paper on you. I'm talking about solving the mystery of how he got the boat out!"

***

After they hung up with Gibbs, they both ran upstairs for quick showers and a change of clothes before jumping into Abby's car and driving into work. When they arrived at the NCIS parking garage, they practically fell out of the car onto the pavement.

Abby wobbled as she tried to carefully balancing bags of food and a drink carrier holding a super-sized Caff-Pow and a large latte. She bumped the door closed with her hip, and tried unsuccessfully to shrug the shoulder of her coat back into place. Tony pulled his laptop case out of the back seat and spilled half his paperwork, but he was fast enough to save the laptop.

Jimmy Palmer walked past the hood of Abby's car, scrutinizing them. "Good morning, Abby, Tony. Rough night?"

Abby gave a tentative wave with a muffled hi as Tony grumbled a greeting. They looked at themselves and at each other. Jimmy stood there smiling at them, like he knew something.

"Autopsy gremlin, why aren't you in Pax River with Ducky?" Tony demanded.

"Pax River? We came back from Pax River yesterday. I went home last night, and then I went out. I had a really sweet date. We went out to the movies-"

"Jimmy!" Abby glared at him, and his eyes opened appropriately wide.

"And I may have turned off my phone during the movie." Jimmy grimaced and then got nervous as he looked back and forth between Abby and Tony. "You know, I think that I'll go inside, and give Dr. Mallard a call." Jimmy stood there, nodding at them for a moment or two and then said. "Now, I'll be doing that now. I mean, I'll talk to you later. He bolted through the garage door and headed toward their building.

Tony came around the car and took the coffee and all but the smallest bag from Abby. She fixed the shoulder of her coat, took a deep breath and then started for the door. "I've been to Mardi Gras. The werewolf walk-of-shame doesn't hold a candle to it."

Tony's head popped up, as he offered her his arm. Abby took it and they walked a few steps, heads held high. The Abby said, "You need to get an ugly sedan from the motor pool and drive to Pax River."

"I need to get a car and drive to Pax River," Tony repeated, as they continued to walk and then he said, "I should be going the other way." Tony stopped and Abby let go of his arm as she kept walking.

"Uh-huh," Abby said.

***

Tony parked next to the brig and didn't even have to go inside to find his team.

"Ah, Tony, you made good time," Ducky said.

"Gibbs wouldn't have had it any other way," Tony replied as he approached the group, looking for the open spot. Tony could tell they were all tired, maybe not as much as Abby. Tim and Cassie were tinged with frustration. When Tony stood next to Gibbs, he could definitely sensed urgency.

"Nope, I wouldn't," Gibbs said as he sipped his coffee. "You were trying to tell us about our suspect, Ducky."

"Yes, I'll reiterate for a moment so that we can catch Tony up. The evidence found last night were indeed human fingers - index fingers to be more precise. They were kept in a formaldehyde based solution, so I expect that we will not obtain any DNA; however, five of the fingers appear to have their prints in tact."

"Ducky thinks it would be better to better to let Abby obtain the prints because the fingers may be fragile," McGee said.

"There were six, last night, right?" Tony asked

"One of them was missing most of the flesh, and what was left looked like it was badly burned," Cassie said.

"Yes, that's what I'm guessing, but it may be difficult to ultimately prove because of the storage -"

"Duck," Gibbs interrupted.

"Yes, moving onto this morning. I watched as Gibbs re-interviewed Seaman Johnson. "Overly confident to well passed arrogance. Absolutely no remorse in his denials."

"The guy claims that he didn't know anything about the fingers and that they must have been left by a previous tenant," Gibbs said.

Ducky nodded. "There are undeniable sociopathic tendencies at work. What I'm more interested in was his response to the questions concerning whether or not he had a partner. He seemed intent on conveying that he was a loner. He was so intent on that, it appeared at times that he might confess to the one or more of the crimes at hand. That attitude doesn't fully fit the profile he projected earlier in the conversation."

"Like he was potentially protecting someone?" Gibbs asked.

"It very well might be. In the rare cases that serial killers act in pairs, one partner is usually dominant. The other is usually less capable of free thought or decisiveness, but completely loyal to his partner."

"I don't know, Johnson seemed pretty damn capable to me," Tony said.

"Yes and therein lies the problem. If Johnson is the mastermind, then we're looking for an apprentice - someone less likely to show himself, because he has been told not to. If the partner is the dominate force in the pairing -"

"Then the guy we're looking for is a real bastard," Gibbs said. "Cassie."

"I interviewed just about everyone on the base that could have ever spoken to Johnson. Quiet guy, kept to himself, went off base during leave. No one remembered ever seeing him hang out with anyone."

"McGee."

"I ran down Tony's theory and traced twenty-five people on this base that have served in the same duty stations as Johnson. But, Boss, if he spent his time off base, he could have been meeting someone stationed within a couple of hours of here - Quantico, Norfolk. If I had to expand the list to include people he overlapped with any of the local bases-"

"Yeah, or it could have been a civilian," Gibbs interrupted. "Let's start simple. If DiNozzo's theory is right, and Johnson was expecting his partner to take care of the body during the day yesterday, it had to be someone nearby. McGee, go with Ducky back to the Navy Yard and start going through the records of those twenty-five men - look for mysterious accidents."

Tony's eyes opened wide. "That was my lead!"

"Would you rather go back to the yard and spend another day at your desk?" Gibbs asked.

"You know, McGee is so much better at digging through paperwork," Tony said automatically.

Tim rolled his eyes. "We better get going, Ducky."

Ducky nodded and gave a wave to everyone. "Good luck."

"All right, you two, we have to track down those twenty-five suspects and see if we can narrow down the field without spooking them.

"That's not going to be easy," Cassie said.

"Yeah, Boss, wouldn't it be better to let Abby ID the fingers and then see if we can narrow the field that way?"

"Every minute we're standing around, the partner could be destroying evidence and plotting his escape. Let's keep McGee's idea alive and find out who showed up at the base yesterday. Cassie, take care of that and then you can help DiNozzo and I go through the twenty-five. "

"If I were the partner, I'd have thought about turning around and going home, if I hadn't made it onto base yet," Tony said.

"Yup, I lot of people may have done that. But psychos are smart. They know when it's better to blend in and follow the plan. They also like to be part of the action; hiding in plain sight," Gibbs said.

"To get onto base, they would have had to arrange some legitimate business," Cassie said.

"And if you cancel your assignment because NCIS is around, it makes you look suspicious," Tony said.

Cassie shouldered her bag. "Obtain the gate records and fax the relevant info to McGee to aid in his search."

Gibbs nodded and then started walking.

For a second Tony missed a step but then was on Gibbs' six.

"How'd you and Abby make out last night?"

"Good, considering," Tony said. "If you want all the details, then you're going to have to talk to Abby, because-"

"I did."

"You did? Then why-"

"Report, DiNozzo."

Apparently, Gibbs remembered that he was going to quiz Tony. Tony wished that he had remembered that before Gibbs started doing it. Focus. "We left the office on time, and picked up food on the way to your place. We went to Island Andersons and got another goat because I didn't make nearly enough lasagna for the three days." Tony frowned and opened his notebook.

"Did you forget that you were reporting?" Gibbs asked.

"I just wanted to write a note to make food in advance and freeze it for the moon."

Gibbs stopped and leaned over Tony's notebook, which Tony pulled it protectively toward his chest. "You told me to focus, Gibbs. I'm trying to get my checklist together."

With a shrug, Gibbs started walking again. "Keep telling me about last night."

"Once we made it back to your place, I changed and we ate upstairs until it was time to lock me up. Abby and I did what work we could on our laptops. You know, I've got to get some kind of small table or a tray or something so I can work on the laptop while I'm sitting on the floor. I'd probably be okay if I didn't have to work around the bars, but they're on the necessary side."

"DiNozzo! Make your checklist later."

"Okay, it was weird, at least for a while when we got to your place. We were both kind of stuck on what happened last month at my place." Tony shrugged. "I think we worked it out, because we were being us after a while."

"Abby thinks you did too," Gibbs said.

Tony frowned. "Boss, what is the deal with Abby and McGee? I mean they broke up, but there's this whole weird thing that they both do-"

"DiNozzo!"

"Focusing on the case, Boss!" Tony said, but filed away his thoughts for further contemplation. They walked in silence for a minute or so and then Tony added, "I tried to fight it."

Gibbs looked up and then nodded once. "How'd that work?"

"I could pretend it worked for a minute, but that would probably be a bad idea." Tony adjusted his ball cap. "Abby didn't think it would work. She figures that it would be like trying to fight a drug."

"It was worth a shot," Gibbs said. "What else?"

"The cage is way too small - can't get a good run in. Can't get close to everyone. I don't like that, being all alone in there."

"Are you saying it's safe to let you out?"

Tony's laugh was tinged with bitterness. "I'd have to actually remember more than ten second snippets before I could recommend anything like that. I kind of know you all when I'm in there, but sometimes it takes a while for it to sink in."

"Is that why you sniffed us all when you got here?"

"Uhm- I- I wasn't planning on sniffing anyone, but I guess maybe I did, because now that you mention it, I remember what they smelled like. Boss, tell me I didn't look like a dog sniffing everyone's butt."

"You didn't sniff anyone's butt, DiNozzo. You circled us and leaned in a little toward each of us. You have to check with the others to see if they even noticed. It would be better if you knew you were doing it."

"It's starting to be unconscious. You walk into a room and look at the crowd, get the vibe. I'm just starting to sniff them now," Tony said. "Actually isn't that good? Isn't that me starting to walk without thinking about it?"

"Yup, but just because you've got your balance doesn't mean you don't have to check your speed or direction. People are going to notice if you stick your nose into their business."

Tony laughed. "You know, Boss, that's kind of a specialty of mine, the metaphorical nose in people's business."

Gibbs just looked at him.

"Of course the literal nose might be creepy if I got too close. I'll work on it."

"Run the day down for me," Gibbs said.

"We're going to catch a killer, or at the very least an accomplice," Tony replied, wondering if there was another case.

"I'm holding you to that, but I mean the rest of the day."

"Oh! If the three nights of the moon theory continues to hold, I should be clear for the next four weeks or so. To be on the safe side, I'll be heading back to DC so that I'm locked up at moonrise 7:46pm."

"You forgot to pick up the beer," Gibbs said.

"Beer?"

"Because I'm bringing the steaks. As soon as you're not furry, we're going to relax. Is there a playoff game tonight?"

"First round starts today, not sure which ones are late or early games. The Yankees are playing the Twins. Reds are playing the Phillies at home."

"Then we've got a plan," Gibbs said.

"Really? We've got a plan to sit down like a couple of guys over beers and a steak?"

"Sure, assuming you get your ass in gear and finish the first task and find the damn killer! Otherwise you can expect to never eat again."

Tony's eyes opened wide. "Consider him caught!"

They walked in silence for a moment and then Tony said, "Maybe I'll pick up some potato salad or something with the beer. Macaroni salad would be good too. Oh! Or maybe I can find that mac'n cheese stuff with the bread crumbs on top."

"How hungry are you?" Gibbs asked, wearily.

"I'm hungry, but I'm not actively thinking of ways to divert us to the chow hall."

Gibbs shook his head. "I'll count it as a victory."

***

It was four o'clock before Gibbs, Cassie and Tony made it back to Abby's lab.

"You're home, you're all home!" Abby said with a huge grin and wide-open arms. As she stepped up to him, Tony saw a line of six jars, each with a single finger. Lined up with each jar was a matching evidence tag. Tim looked over his shoulder from where he was sitting at the next bench.

Gibbs rattled the ice of a Caff-Pow inside its plastic cup. "Tell me you've got something."

"I do, but I could really use the juice of the bean, which is really a fruit, that makes all life possible."

Gibbs pulled the cup away from her reaching hands.

Abby made a sad face, but then spun on her heel. "But perhaps I will give you my news first. I successfully lifted the five available prints and determined who they belonged to." Abby pushed a button on her keyboard and a fingerprint match appeared on the screen. "Petty Officer Jerome Sharpe"

"That's one of my mysterious accidents," Tony said and leaned back against the table with the jars. His nose wrinkled as he smelled something foul, kind of like ammonia.

McGee's fingers rattled over his keyboard and a time line appeared on the big screen. "Petty Officer Sharpe's service at Naval Air Station Pensacola overlapped with Seaman Johnson's for six months."

"Petty Officer John Whiting," Abby said, as the next man's face appeared on the screen.

"Another of mine," Tony said, rubbing his nose.

"Overlapped for fourteen months at Point Magu Naval Air Station," Tim said.

"Guess he never saw that one coming," Tony said, followed by, "Ouch!" because Cassie had hit him. "It was just a-"

"Ya deserved it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Now with three of a kind, we have Petty Officer Miles Diamond," Abby said.

"Wait," Cassie said, "By three of a kind, do you mean that they all had the same rank?"

"I was saving that as icing, but yes. Everyone of them had exactly the same rank. They had all received their promotion to Petty Officer First Class within three months of their deaths."

"They all also fast-tracked to Petty Officer First Class," McGee added.

"Oh, there's some motive in there, Boss," Tony said in a voice like he had a cold.

"Anthony, are you all right?" Ducky asked from the monitor.

Everyone turned and watched him contort his face, trying to ward off the smell. "I'm fine, there's just something stinky in here. Abby, are you trying to cover up the donut smell?"

"Only with soap, Tony. What does it smell like? "

"I don't know, kind of plastic-y and gas leak, and I don't know," Tony said.

Abby snapped on a pair of gloves and went around the table. She unscrewed a lid and held the jar toward Tony.

"Hey, even I think that's stinky," Cassie said.

Backing up a step, Tony leaned his head back further. "That, yeah, what is it?"

"A formaldehyde solution to preserve the fingers."

"I didn't smell it until Abby opened the jar," Tim said.

"Well if any of us are going to smell it through the jar, it would be Tony," Ducky said.

Abby sealed the jar and quickly put all the jars in their respective bags. "Here, I'll just put these in a box and move them under the fume hood. Formaldehyde is not only stinky, it's carcinogenic."

"Weren't the frogs we all dissected in high school science packed in formaldehyde?" Tim asked with a grimace.

"Yup," said Abby "Formaldehyde is also present in the glues of your new carpet and particle board furniture."

"This is why I skip Ikea," Tony said.

"Abby, the case," Gibbs said, handing her the Caff-Pow.

"Diamond was one that Tony missed. He was murdered at Naval Air Station Atlanta."

"I went through the records from Atlanta. How did he officially die?" Tony asked.

"He didn't," Tim said. "He was went AWOL and is currently listed as a deserter."

Tony threw up his hands and tuned in a slow circle. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Isn't that a change in the killer's style? Don't serial killers have a thing about reenactment, including the presentation of the body?" Cassie asked.

"They do," Ducky said from the monitor. "However, other than the finger, we have not determined all the details of these scenes that matters to the killer. We could be reading into things that were just convenient and at the same time, missing details because no one was looking at these cases as murders."

"So maybe the horrible accident isn't important. One of the bodies did go overboard," Tim said.

"Just making sure the body can't be traced back to a murder might be all they're after, " Tony said.

"Precisely," Ducky said. "And because the latest case was interrupted and the earlier cases were obscured, there may be details, connected with motivation that we are not seeing," Ducky said.

"Maybe they left the body somewhere off base. We're going to have the check the local police blotters," Gibbs said. "What else do you have?"

"Petty Officer Patrick Upland." After hitting a button on the keyboard, Abby took a long pull on the straw.

"Went overboard on the USS Ronald Reagan-"

Tony interrupted Tim. "Nimitz class, nuclear powered, super aircraft carrier. The third one I found. Although, not personally. Upland went overboard, before my brief stint on the Gipper."

"Long before you were on the Reagan," McGee said. "Unfortunately for Petty Officer Upland, he spent four months on board with Johnson."

"We're going to be able to nail this guy to the wall," Cassie said.

"What about his partner?" Gibbs asked.

"That's where it starts to get tricky," McGee said.

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Tony said.

"The other two victims were Petty Officers Gene Fisher and Samuel Glinceman. They both appear on the time line earlier than the victims that Tony found, which supports the idea of a partner who started killing prior to Johnson's entry into the Navy," Abby said, putting the faces on the screen.

"I've made some cloud graphs of our twenty-five sailors at Pax River whose service overlapped with Johnson's at some points in the past. I put Johnson in as one node and Fisher and Glinceman as the others."

On the big screen, two overlapping cloud shapes appeared with the names of their suspects and victims. There were thick and thin lines drawn between various parties.

"Could the murderer's name blink or do some kind of flashing light thing?" Tony asked. He'd have gone on, but the hairs on his neck were standing up. One deep breath told him who had joined the group.

"What does it say, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Like I said, this is where it gets complicated. It says there are three sailors that overlap with Fisher's murder and only two that overlap with Glinceman's murder."

"And the complicated part is that those two groups don't overlap with each other," Director Vance said. Every one turned around startled to one degree or another - everyone but Tony, who had smelled him, and Gibbs, who was Gibbs.

"Yup, that's a problem," Gibbs said.

"What are you going to do to solve it," Vance asked, walking closer to the group. Today the director wore a tasteful aftershave over his shark scent.

"Figure out who the sixth victim is," Gibbs said.

Vance nodded. "Could you walk with me Agent Gibbs. I think your team can handle things for a few minutes without you."

"They better get to work, finding us a new lead," Gibbs said and headed out into the hallway with Vance.

As the sliding door was closing, they were murmuring low to one another. Tony's wolf-ears heard Vance say, "I just heard from Special Operation's about our mutual friend."

"I wonder what that was about?" Tim asked.

Tony was about to say, Ziva, and then decided that it was better if he kept that intel to himself for the moment - they needed to focus. "When we need to know, they'll think about telling us," Tony said. "In the meantime, what are we going to do about ID-ing the last finger?"

"There's nothing close to a print and the initial samples I took of the flesh had no usable DNA." Abby said.

I'm going to see if the marrow is intact and if I can extract a sample from it," Ducky said.

"How many people in the Navy die in a fire?" asked Cassie.

"Probably not that many," Tim said. "But look at the time line. Johnson's been involved for about six years and the oldest murder happened seven years ago. The records are going to be tough, especially if there wasn't a body. If we had a time frame for the death, or any other demographics, we could probably find a burn victim."

Tony frowned at the screen. "Actually, one murder happened right after Johnson joined."

Tim frowned at the board and then said, "Johnson was still at basic training in San Diego and the murder occurred at Naval Station Oceana, Virginia Beach."

"Highly unlikely that he escaped basic and made it across the country and back," Cassie said.

"OK," Tony said. "So that implies that they connected at the next murder scene in Atlanta."

"Maybe," Abby said. "I know we don't believe in coincidence, but we don't know at what point that Johnson became involved with mystery man. For all we know, our current victim was Johnson's first."

There was frowning, checking the time line, and visual check-ins among the field agents.

"Nuh-uh," Tony said on top of Cassie's, "I don't think so," and McGee's, "Nope."

Abby lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "I think all of you with the hive mind need to go back upstairs where you belong. Shoo!" She waved them toward the door. "Out of my lab!"

***

Tony was digging through another set of incident reports from some naval air station when he tossed them on the desk. "Campfire!"

"Tony," Tim groused, looked toward the ceiling.

"What?" Cassie asked.

Tony rolled his chair out into the center of the bullpen, gesturing for Cassie to join them. "Campfire. It's a thing we do where we go over the case notes and brainstorm as a group."

"That's what Gibbs calls it when he shouts at us for information?" Cassie stood up and pushed her chair into the center.

Tim slapped his hands against his thighs and rolled out to join them. "No, Gibbs does not call it that. Gibbs calls it-. Tim frowned. Tim frowned at Tony.

Tony frowned back. "I think he just calls it work. It's a generic catch all."

"Campfires were Tony's version that involve a lot less shouting." Tim looked at Tony and Cassie. "He's standing behind me, isn't he?"

Tim looked up as Gibbs looked down.

Taking pity on McGee, Tony said. "Hey, Boss, we're having a campfire. Did you bring and marshmallows?"

"I brought the pointy stick for skewering marshmallows."

"Cassie, why don't you go first," Tony said quickly, keeping a wary eye on Gibbs.

"I've been looking at the news articles in and around Atlanta at the time of Diamond's death. As you would expect, a big metropolitan area like that generates more than a few bodies. Nothing so far."

"I've been going through the incident reports for all the air stations that our five possibles moved through, including AWOL and deserters. No hits yet on a burned body. McGee," Tony said.

"I've been going over the life and times of our five possibles to see if there's a clue that might lead us to think that one of them is serial killer. Background stuff, going back to their juvenile records."

"Any dead or missing pets, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing."

"Yeah, it seems like we've got a whole lot of that," Gibbs said. "How are Abby and Ducky doing?"

"Ducky managed to get a sample, but Abby said it was in pretty rough shape. She's working on it," McGee said.

"Looks like your fire fizzled out, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "McGee, put the possibles on the screen and tell me about them."

They all pushed back in their seats. Cassie picked up the phone as she looked at the pictures. Tony picked up another incident report and listened with half an ear.

McGee put the photos of the five men up, named them and began reading through their history, he was on the fourth one when Tony heard, Pottersville, Missouri. It wasn't an ironclad rule, but he always had the impression that nothing ever good happened in Pottersville. After all, look at what a potters field was, and there was Mr. Potter from It's A Wonderful Life, who tried to change Bedford Falls into Pottersville.

Tony frowned thoughtfully at the file he was looking at then put it down next to his keyboard and pulled up an internet search on Pottersville, MO. Where exactly was Pottersville, Missouri? It was probably in the middle of nowhere. All of the Missouri was the middle of nowhere, but Tony knew by looking at the maps that you could compound your nowhere problem by going to Greenbrook, Missouri - home of their known killer, population 1243, major industry, farming. Pottersville had it's own town website. Tony only had to glimpse at the map when some text on the screen jumped out at him. "Pottersville, Home of the Bears; arch rivals of the Greenbrook Eagles."

They were all looking at him. Tim asked, "What?"

Tony stood up. "Pottersville, Missouri is the home the Bears, and it's two towns over from Greenbrook, where Johnson was born. I found it when I was digging up Johnson's history the other day."

"Mc-Gee-" Gibbs said loudly.

"On it, Boss." Trying to find a connection between Petty Officer Third Class Morgan from Pottersville and Seaman Johnson from Greenbrook."

Tony smiled, satisfied with a job well done.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "Did I miss something? Is being from Missouri enough reason to arrest this guy?"

Tony was about to say something and then changed his mind. As he dived back into his desk, he said, "On it, Boss! Looking up the previous assignments for Morgan and figuring how he connects to our victims."

"I've got Fisher," Cassie said.

"Hey, he's the one victim we connected on the chart!" Tony said.

"Not up for the challenge, Tony?" Cassie asked with what could only be termed a wicked grin.

"Oh, I'm ready - you should be so ready," Tony said.

Gibbs went and stood over McGee, "Family history."

McGee looked up.

"Two small towns in the country - they're either related to one another or feuding with one another," Gibbs said.

"Boss, Greenbrook is actually not a town - it's a section of Pottersville," Tim said.

"Fisher and Morgan overlapped for three months before Fisher was murdered," Cassie said.

Tony couldn't say the same about Morgan and Glinceman. Morgan had never served at the base where Glinceman had died.

"Second cousins," McGee said. "Morgan was orphaned at a young age and lived at his grandmother's house. He listed auto mechanic experience during high school on his -"

"Phil's Auto Repair!" shouted Tony. "At least that's where Johnson had a summer job."

"Phil's Auto Repair," Tim confirmed.

"Come on, come on," Tony whispered then he pointed at his screen. "They didn't serve together at Glinceman's final assignment, Naval Air Station Whidbey Island. They spent 18 months together at a previous assignment at Naval Air Station Kingsville, Texas."

Tim slammed his hand against the desk. "My program was looking for the murder at the same base as the victim or at a nearby base."

Tony's nose was filled with Gibbs' scent, because the man himself was standing next to him, looking at his computer screen. "Where was Morgan when Glinceman was killed?"

"Carrier Strike Group 11, Third Fleet-"

"That's the Northern Pacific," Cassie said.

"USS Nimitz," Tony said. His head was swimming in Gibbs, in an act of self-preservation; he put the death grip on his mouse to prevent him from touching.

"Uhm, not to put a downer on this, but how does a guy get off an aircraft carrier to murder someone on land?" Cassie asked. "Carriers can't dock at Whidbey Island."

"Nothing docks at Whidbey Island - it's an air field," Gibbs said.

"But, they have some limited contact with the Third Fleet," Tony said. "When I was on the Reagan, they used to send a supply plane over to the base to pick up fresh food and the occasional spare part. It wasn't anything official, but they did it about once a week as part of training. Whidbey is one of the carrier landing training sites. Periodically they'd bring over the new pilots to practice their first carrier landings."

"Morgan is a part of deck operations. Would they have a reason to send him to the mainland?"

Tony tossed a pencil on his desk. "I'm not saying it isn't a long shot, but on the Reagan they'd send some low level guy to pick up spare parts."

"There's a record of every person going on and off a ship," Cassie said.

"Yeah, but that record would have been kept on board and it's been six years," Tim said.

"They've got to have it, Boss," Tony said.

Gibbs pushed off Tony's desk. "Go. MTAC. Get a hold of that ship and make them dig up their paperwork."

Tony jumped up and jogged to the stairs.

Tim said, "Boss, should I call Pax River and have them hold Morgan?"

"No-:

Tony was half-way up before his watch beeped. He looked at his watch and everyone else looked at computer screens and cell phones. His hands fell to the banister and his shoulders slumped.

"Don't arrest Morgan; we don't have any evidence to hold him yet. Gibbs went to his desk and picked up his coat and weapon. "We're heading back to Pax River in the morning to interview Morgan more closely. Even if we do prove that he had opportunity, we haven't tied him to the fingers. McGee, organize the details we have so far and then go get some sleep. Cassie, make the request for the Nimitz records and go home." Gibbs started toward the elevator. "Grab your gear, DiNozzo. You've got grocery shopping to do; I like egg potato salad."

***

Tony could smell the steak cooking upstairs. He was sitting in a sacrificial chair on the other side of the bars from a rolling cart with his laptop. In theory, he could push the laptop away if the change started. As for the chair, well the chair was aptly named. Gibbs figured that if worst came to worse, they would figure out if Tony's wolf brain had the intelligence to use the broken pieces as a weapon or tools.

Like the previous night he had brought to work more on the case, but the fact was that Tony had always been bad at homework. At boarding school he had snuck into empty classrooms to do his homework. Sneaking into work at midnight had the same effect. As a result, Tony was working on his 30th or 40th board of Jewel Quest when he smelled Gibbs coming and shut down the game. The smell thing was going to be a useful tool if he could get it under control.

"I'm going to have that steak without you if you're going to sit there all night," Gibbs said.

Tony looked at his wrist but only saw hair and freckles because his watch and clothing was on the other side of the room. He bent his head to check out the time on the computer. "It's passed moonrise?"

"By about twenty minutes," Gibbs said, as he unlocked the door. "You know, you could have spent your time cleaning the cage."

"I'm going to get yelled out to clean the basement a lot, aren't I?"

"Knowing you, there's going to be a lot of yelling about cleaning up after yourself," Gibbs said. "Come on, aren't you hungry?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "But you know, I'm not starving. I was this morning, and I ate about two lunches, but now I'm just hungry. And is it chilly in here."

"You're standing in a basement in bare feet and a pair of shorts." Gibbs put the back of his hand against Tony's forehead. "You've still got a fever, but maybe not as bad. Why don't you try putting on some clothes?"

"That's good. I mean it's all good. Normal appetite, only a low grade fever, no fur." Tony pulled on a shirt and reached for his sweatpants. "Lately, a lot of people have been telling me to put on clothes."

Gibbs headed for the stairs. "I'm betting we're not the first ones."

Once they were at the top of the stair, Gibbs said. "Have a seat; I'll get the steak. Get the game on the TV." The coffee table was loaded with deli containers of various salads and two open beers.

*

When he was picking up the cast iron skillet, Jethro took a second to breathe a sigh of relief. The last three days had been hell, and they could look forward to more of that. Tonight they were going to relax with some beers in front of a ball game, like god had intended men to be.

When he stepped back into the living room, Tony was sitting on the couch, head rolled completely back, beer bottle between his knees, dangling loosely between his fingers. As he passed the TV, Jethro turned it on and then put the steak on the coffee table.

"DiNozzo," he said, sitting down on the couch, but Tony just made the gaspy kind of snore that guys made when they had fallen asleep sitting up. Jethro was able to grab the beer bottle out of his hands as Tony suddenly moved to lie down. He swapped it for the other beer on the table and sat back.

Before he could do anything else, Tony swung his legs up so that they landed in Gibbs' lap. Apparently Tony was good at invading personal space, even when he was asleep It was a just a good thing t for Tony had put on a clean pair of sox when he got upstairs or he might have found himself on the floor. Jethro would be lying to himself if he said he didn't know why he didn't push Tony onto the floor anyway. Jethro knew what it was like to feel all of a child's trust as she slept snuggled against you for warmth and protection. This was nothing like that.

This was the familiarity of a lover staking a claim, which is exactly how Tony approached everything and no doubt why more than one girl was disappointed when he lost interested on the second or third date. But Jethro didn't care about that either, because for tonight he could the comfort of human contact free of strings. He could be tantalized by the weight of a man on him. For not the first or the last time, he took pity at the teenage version of himself that was terrified of these feelings.

Tony's presence, day in and day out, was going to drive him nuts. At the same time, Jethro wanted it. Beer in hand, ball game on TV, and Tony's legs across his lap, Gibbs ran his hand over a muscled calf and then reached for the steak.

*** Wednesday October 7 ***

A low hum woke Tony up. When he opened his eyes, it was still dark out, but there was enough light spilling in the windows from the street lights that he could make things out.

He was on Gibbs' couch, covered with a blanket with a pillow under his head. Frowning, he remembered sitting down with a beer and then… nothing. Buzzing, humming - the sound of his phone on the vibrate setting. He propped himself up and reached into his knapsack pulling out his cell. It was a missed call that had gone directly to voicemail - just a number and not a name. Tony dropped the phone back in his bag.

He recognized it. It was a collection agency calling for some woman named Erin, the last owner of his phone number. There were times that Tony had been tempted to look up Erin, find out if she was cute, but he had his own financial woes - a lost security deposit on his apartment, paying back his bastard English cousin, and he probably would have skipped the long weekend at the Indian casino back in August if he had known he was going to become a werewolf. It might be time to cut back on the last minute vacations to all-inclusive resorts and casinos.

He ran his hand over his face. That part of his life was officially over at least in the foreseeable future. Even if he wanted to travel during the New Moon, how safe would it be once he had a few drinks in him and saw someone cute? Hell, what if someone just picked up his beer by mistake?

Focus. He had promised Abby two nights ago that he'd figure out how to have a life around what was happening to him. Maybe it would include an occasional date or two, but he had other things to worry about first. Sleeping on the Boss' couch wasn't how he envisioned his new life to be.

Picking up his phone again, Tony checked the time - five am. He txted Gibbs that he was heading home and would see him in the office.

***

It was early, for him, to get to the office, but once Tony made it home he realized that his apartment had lost that distinction. The living room was basically empty after the damage from the September transformation. His bedroom was filled with empty boxes. Even the milk in the refrigerator was sour.

It was time to start getting his life back and that meant packing, moving, figuring out how to do home improvement and somehow, make some of this up to his friends. On his way to work, he stopped for some supplies to start that process -breakfast burritos and a box of donuts, none of them vanilla iced.

What he wasn't expecting was to find most of his team sleeping at their desks. There was Timmy-bear cuddling his keyboard and Cassie-bear with her head pillowed in her arms and Abby-bear asleep at his desk, drooling into his paper work. He felt his face crinkle up into ewww, but it wasn't like he could say anything to the woman that vacuumed the excess fur off him three mornings ago.

"Hey, what the hell do you three think your doing?" called Gibbs as he passed Tony and snatched up a burrito. "What is this?" he said, shaking the foil wrapper in the air.

"Bacon, egg and cheese, unless it's sausage, egg and cheese. Oh, but if there's no pork product in it, it's Abby's," Tony said.

"The one with the red X is Abby's," said Gibbs. "Hey, McGee, what part of go home didn't you register?"

Tony looked down and one burrito did have a red X draw on the foil with a marker.

"Boss, I got caught up in the research, and- "

Gibbs voice was muffled because he was swallowing his breakfast. "And what about you, Yates? Did you wait up all night to talk to the Nimitz?"

"Pretty much," Cassie said. Tony followed in Gibbs wake and handed Cassie a burrito. She turned it around a couple of times, like it might be a bomb.

"Boss, we dug through everything," McGee said sluggishly. Gibbs reached behind him and unerringly picked up a burrito from Tony's box and handed it to McGee. McGee glanced from Gibbs to Tony and then ripped open the foil, stuffing some of the burrito into his mouth, like he was afraid that Gibbs might take always his food.

Tony knew that wasn't a bad assumption; he had taught it to McGee. Once Cassie and McGee filled them in, Gibbs would be moving like a rocket to get to Pax River. He picked up the burrito with a red X and waved it in front of Abby.

She frowned at him.

"No animal parts, for breakfast - just eggs and cheese."

"Eggs and cheese are animal parts," Abby mumbled at him.

"Huh, I suppose they are." Tony slid the burrito container onto his desk and dropped Abby's back into it. Then he opened the donut box. "These probably have eggs or milk or something like that in them.

"But they have sprinkles." Abby smiled and took one.

Gibbs was suddenly standing right next to him, glaring. Tony snatched up his burrito, opened the foil, and chowed down.

"We got the records, Gibbs," Cassie said. "Morgan left the Nimitz on a transport plane and landed in Whidbey Island the day that Glinceman died. Morgan was on base for six hours, plenty of time to do the deed."

Gibbs slowly nodded and then turned to McGee. "Morgan and Johnson not only had the same summer job, but they both listed their grandmother's house as their home for overlapping periods of their childhood."

"Okay, we know this guy had opportunity, but do we have any evidence that will tie him to any of these deaths?" Gibbs asked.

"Perhaps the key is indeed a key," Ducky said as he took off his hat and unbuttoned his coat.

Tony thoughtfully chewed his breakfast and offered Ducky the burrito that Abby had refused. Ducky waved his hand at the offer.

"Which key, Ducky?" McGee asked.

"The key that you found, Timothy - the one that unlocked the storage shed. I was going over the details of the case and it occurred to me that we hadn't done a thorough profile on the way they maintained their trophies. If our assumptions are correct, Morgan was the one that began taking fingers as his grizzly reminders. Two of the ones we found are his and his alone. Johnson joined the team later and is sharing in Morgan's psychosis. In fact, he is playing the part of the subordinate partner well. He is the one that rented the storage locker, taking the risk. He is obviously protecting Morgan."

Ducky looked at them and continued. "But in the end, that storage locker is Morgan's trophy room. They typically sell locks with two keys. I'll stake my reputation on the idea that Morgan has the other one. Trophies are a way for serial killers to re-experience the rush of the kill. It's not the same and it's not enough, which is why they kill again. The point is that Morgan would have gone to that storage shed. And while he may play cool about his cousin's inevitable imprisonment, he is probably very disturbed about the loss of his trophies."

"That's good, Duck," Gibbs said. "Cassie, call up Pax River. Get those MPs to escort Morgan up here. Tell him we want to ask some questions about the current investigation. While you're on the phone, get me authorization to search Morgan's quarters. Once you're done with that, I want you to follow up on Glinceman's murder. I want to sure we can pin him down on that base."

Gibbs wadded up the foil from the burrito and tossed it in the trash. "Abby, I need you to get the jars together; I'm going to do a little show and tell when I interview Morgan. McGee, find a clean shirt and get over to that storage area. Find me some evidence that proves Morgan visited the place. DiNozzo, grab your gear and gas the truck; you're coming to Pax River with me to find a key."

"Gibbs," Cassie said, "I thought you wanted Morgan up here so you could interview him?"

"I did." Gibbs stabbed the elevator button. "I didn't say I was going to do it right away."

Tony took two steps toward the elevator and then spun around to snatch the breakfast burrito with the red X just as the door dinged.

"DiNozzo!"

"On you're six, Boss!"

***

Gibbs and Tony gloved up and stepped into Morgan's quarters. It was in a different part of the base, but very much like the quarters where they had found Lawson's body.

"Pick a spot," Gibbs said.

"Can I start over the door?" Tony turned around and was face to face with an aide to the base commander. "Lieutenant, you understand that the quarters are very small, and another full grown human being makes it hard to search around."

"My orders are to observe your investigation. The Commander had concerns about your probable cause for searching Petty Officer Third Class Morgan's quarters."

Gibbs shouldered Tony lightly and the Lieutenant more heavily, pushing them out of his way. Once the way was clear, Gibbs put a chair in the doorway and then gave a grand gesture for Tony to climb up.

"You really want to search above the door?" the Lieutenant asked, incredulously.

"Lt. Emerson," Gibbs said, snapping photos of the room, "I will tear down the walls if that's what it takes."

Tony climbed down. "No luck, Boss."

"It was a long shot that we'd find the key in the same place. I'll work in here, you take the bedroom."

"Wait!" Emerson held up his hands. "I'm supposed to observer you. How am I supposed to do that if you're different rooms?"

"Not my problem," Gibbs said. "Grow another pair of eyes.

*
Tony scooted the side of his body further under the bed, pushing aside shoes so he could move the light from his flashlight into the corners.

"Agent DiNozzo?"

Automatically Tony tried to lift his head and banged the back of it against the metal bed rail for his trouble. With an excess of care he backed his body out of the confined space, rubbing his head. "What?" he asked sharply.

"How do you know where to look, sir? I mean why did you pick under the bed instead of the closet?"

Tony tugged on his ear, so he wouldn't bang his head against the carpet. "Look, Ensign..."

"Childer, Ensign Childer."

Pushing himself off the floor, Tony deliberately went to the closet. "Well, Childer, my life is not much different than yours. My boss tells me to go find some evidence, and I look under every dirty tissue until I find it."

"So you're going to search the closet, too. Interesting!"

Tony felt totally bemused. "What? Why?"

"As you know sir, I work for the commander's office, part of my duties are to interface with NCIS and the MPs. I find that the work suits me. After the Navy, I'm considering a career in law enforcement."

"That's...great, Ensign." This guy was way too slow for even the sleepiest town in the world, and then Tony smiled. "You should consider doing your training with local law enforcement, smaller towns and cities, because there's usually more rapid advancement for the go getters. I can recommend Peoria; it's where I started out." And if Childer took Tony up on that plan, then Tony would have his revenge on the State of Illinois.

"Thank you for the advice, sir!"

"Oh anytime, Childer, anytime."

The closet was lightly packed and organized with military precision. After he had frisked the clothes an opened the storage boxes, Tony felt along the walls and floor, looking for hidden openings. Not finding any, he came out and closed the door.

The main room was done and then his eye caught the air conditioning unit, and Tony thought Dexter. "Now here's something you many not have thought of, Childer. Sometimes criminals hide their stash inside places that most people don't think can open, like appliances. But you know the keen eye of the investigator-"

"This is just like, Dexter! I don't know if you've seen it, sir, but it's an HBO show about a vigilante serial killer. He takes a blood sample from each victim and puts it on a slide. Then he hides the slides into the air conditioner!"

"Is that so," Tony shook his head. There was nothing in the air conditioner. It was one of those units built into the wall, which gave Tony an idea. Morgan was smart. No way was he going to hide anything precious in a spot that any regular criminal would use. Maybe Morgan pulled the AC in and out and hid things in the wall cavity. Tony took a look out the window and rejected the idea. There were no bushes or other foliage, so anyone outside would see the air conditioning unit going in and out of the wall opening.

Tony walked into the head and was assailed by the smells of cleaning products and shampoos. Since developing a werewolf's sense of smell, bathrooms were some of his least favorite places. That desire that people had to have the whole place smell like disinfectant or pine trees, just gave him a headache and sometimes made him-

"Achoo!"

"Bless you, Agent DiNozzo."

"Thanks," Tony said, sniffing to ward off another sneeze. "Cleaning stuff, it gets to me. Want to hand me that cardboard box?"

Childer did as he was asked and Tony got on his knees and began emptying the cabinet under the sink. This was an area he hated even before he became a werewolf, but if he was going to search it, he was going to get all the stinky stuff out of his way. Once the box was loaded, Tony said, "Hey, could you put that in the other room so I don't have to sneeze my way through this search."

"Oh sure!" Childer's took the box.

With that task safely behind him, Tony took his flashlight deep into the sink cabinet. The walls were solid and the plumbing would get in the way of sliding the cabinet away from the wall. Beyond the trace of pine scent, there was something else that Tony was picking up. It was faint, but definitely something chemical, but a different kind of chemical than the cleaners or the smell from the paint shop.

Tony stood up and opened the medicine cabinet, which had another collection of scents from shaving cream to mouth wash. "Can I have that box lid?"

"Are you going to sneeze again?"

"On you, if I don't get the box lid," Tony said.

Childer handed it right over and Tony unloaded the medicine cabinet. Once the box was gone, he could smell it again, still faint, but stronger.

"Agent DiNozzo, wouldn't you be more interested in the stuff in the box than the empty medicine cabinet?"

"Yes, wouldn't you be, Agent DiNozzo?" asked Lieutenant Emerson, who was standing out in the bedroom with Gibbs.

"I smell something."

"It's a bathroom," Emerson said.

"Yeah, I noticed. It's not a bathroom smell, it's, it's - I know what it is," Tony called and began running his hands over the tile near the sink, looking for a loose one. While he was doing that, he tried amping up the scent, seeing if he was getting hotter or colder as he moved up and down the tile.

"This is getting ridiculous. You're supposed to be looking for a key. Key's don't have scents!" Emerson had stepped into the bathroom, screwing with Tony's nose and forcing him to sneeze.

"God bless you, Agent DiNozzo," said Ensign Childer.

"Wow, you use a lot of cologne," Tony said to Emerson and then realized that that was probably a bad idea.

Gibbs pushed his way in and then turned to push Emerson back toward the door. Then Tony's nose was completely focused on Gibbs. This was where he belonged, where he felt safe. And he had to admit, it was a little hot the way that Gibbs was pushing around Emerson on Tony's behalf.

"Agent Gibbs, I think your search is done," Emerson said.

"I think you should give us another half hour to finish what we've started."

"I don't have to give you-"

"Ten minutes," called Tony. "Give me ten more minutes in here."

Emerson looked from Tony to Gibbs and then said, "You've got five."

"Stay out there," Gibbs said and then took a step closer to Tony. "What do you have?" Gibbs whispered low in Tony's ear.

Yup, Tony was definitely feeling turned on. But at the same time, he was losing the scent. "Boss, your lava soap -"

"It's Ivory for the love o-" Gibbs sighed. "I'll get my scent out of the way of your nose. You keep this up, and I'm going to sell you to a perfume company." Gibbs stepped back into the bedroom with Emerson and Childer.

Tony turned back to the wall and closed his eyes. He needed to focus. Using his fingers to guide him along the wall, Tony stopped a few inches from the medicine cabinet. "There. It's in there." His finger was on a section of dry wall above the tile. "It's in there, but I don't know how. All of these tiles look like they're in good shape."

"What's in there?" Emerson demanded.

Gibbs stepped back into the room and followed the line from Tony's finger to the medicine cabinet. "Look at this. The screws in the cabinet have the paint scrapped off." He stood back and took a picture of the screws.

"Let me have my backpack!" Tony said. Childer grabbed Tony's pack and started passing it through when Emerson intercepted.

"Wait! What are you going to do? That fixture is Navy property!"

Gibbs grabbed the pack from Emerson's hand and held it open. Tony reached in and grabbed a power screwdriver and spun the tip. As Tony loosened each screw, Gibbs pulled it out and handed it to Emerson. "Here, keep an eye on that Navy property."

Tony put down the screwdriver in the sink after the last screw was out. He glanced at Gibbs who was holding the edge of the cabinet with his gloved hands. He nodded at Tony.

"Be careful!" shouted Childer.

Everyone turned toward him. Nervously he said, "It's just that it's seven years bad luck if the mirror breaks."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and tugged on his side of the cabinet and Tony followed on his side. It was no effort at all to remove the piece. The scent became stronger in Tony's nose and then he knew what it was.

Tony was leaning his head toward the wall, when Gibbs said, "First let's put this Navy property into safe hands." Gibbs and Tony took a couple of steps backward and forced the cabinet into Emerson's hands, who fumbled it, but caught it.

Tony took his flash light out and shined it into the wall cavity toward his spot. The first thing that caught his eye was the glint of something metal. He reached with his fingers, but Gibbs grabbed them gently in his own, sending an electric spark through Tony. "Photos if you can get 'em."

Tony nodded and Gibbs took the flashlight from his hand, aiming it into the wall as Tony lifted the camera and focused. It was a key - there was the key and damn-it, he could read Masterlock on it. Tony snapped a pic. It wasn't the only thing glittering in the wall. "Point the flashlight to the left a little."

Gibbs did as Tony asked.

Tony frowned. "The other left, which most people would call right."

Gibbs lifted an eyebrow, but moved the flashlight.

After snapping a few pictures, Tony lowered the camera and carefully reached in, extracting the key. Gibbs put the flashlight in his teeth and opened an evidence bag. Tony dropped it in. After sealing the bag, Gibbs twirled his finger, and Tony turned, so Gibbs could use Tony's shoulder as a desk to write on the bag.

"You're going to need another bag, Boss."

Tony reached his hand into the wall and came out with a mason jar with an index finger in it.

The room filled with the sound of glass shattering as Emerson dropped the mirror.

Continued here