Friday, 1749, Hanrahan's Bar, downtown Washington DC

A man beside him bumped him, and Tony jumped, turning sharply. The guy grinned and apologized, but he was either too drunk or too high-spirited to notice anything amiss in Tony's reaction. He looked down at his hands and found that they were shaking. He took a swallow of his whiskey and breathed deeply, trying to control his reactions.

He knew he shouldn't have come out tonight, but he just couldn't stay cloistered in his apartment all the time. For one thing, he didn't really feel safe there. Maybe he should move to a building with a little more security. One where it took a key to get into the foyer. He kept finding notes in his mailbox. He'd squirreled them away in his desk, but they had no evidence on them whatsoever, of course.

Idly glancing up, he looked towards the door just in time to see Brody come in. His gut twisted and panic reared its ugly head. This wasn't anyplace they'd ever been together, but it was one of the places Tony tended to go when he was on the prowl. Maybe Brody had used those finely honed detective skills to trace Tony's haunts, or maybe he'd just followed him. Either way, Tony did not want to see him tonight. Leaving a crumpled twenty on the bar and catching the bartender's eye so he knew she was aware of it, he slipped away towards the back door.

Jeanne cursed as she saw Tony heading towards the back door. The restrooms were down a completely different hallway, so unless he was going to the kitchen, he could only be making a quiet exit. Had he seen her? She didn't think so. He hadn't looked her way that she'd noticed, and she'd been watching him pretty closely. She eeled through the crowd, but it wasn't easy. A drunk grabbed her and offered her a dance. She shoved him and his alcohol breath away and managed to get out to the back hallway. The door said "Alley access only." She pushed it open and went out.

Voices to her left made her turn. There were lights, but there were also trash cans and piles of crates blocking her view. She started walking quickly towards that end of the alley.

A sudden shout made her check her pace slightly. "Stop it, Brody!" It was Tony's voice. He sounded angry and . . . frightened? Another voice spoke much more quietly. Jeanne couldn't understand anything that was said, but she could tell it was a male voice. She slowed even more as she grew nearer till there was only a dumpster between her and the argument. She heard a thump and then a grunt of pain that she could swear was Tony. Peering around the dumpster, she froze in shock. An enormous man had Tony pinned to a wall, his arms forced above his head and held in one gigantic fist. Brody – that was the name Tony had used – had one knee between Tony's legs in a position that had to be causing pain. From the straining muscles in his arms and torso and the alarm in Tony's eyes, she could tell that he couldn't get away.

"Shut up!" Brody growled. His free hand twisted in Tony's hair and held him still while – to her immense shock – Brody planted a kiss on Tony's lips. Tony's struggles intensified. Jeanne turned away and put her back to the dumpster, hiding herself while she scrabbled in her purse.

Tony kept his mouth closed against the unwanted kiss. The last time Brody had done this, he'd kneed him in the groin and escaped. This time, the prick had been prepared for that reaction. He'd blocked the blow and shifted claustrophobically closer, making it impossible for Tony to get any force behind another attack.

A whiff of something that didn't fit made him open his eyes and scan the area, and he saw the last person he either expected or wanted to see at this moment, creeping around the dumpster. He couldn't yell at her to go away, he couldn't do anything but stare in appalled horror as she raised her right hand with a taser in it.

He twisted his head, trying to tell her to go away, but Jeanne spoke before he could.

"Get off him!" she ordered.

Brody swiveled, his left knee grinding even deeper into Tony's groin, causing him to gasp. "This isn't your business, lady," Brody said. He turned his head back towards Tony with a knowing smile. "It's totally consensual, isn't it, Tony?" Tony couldn't speak, but he redoubled his struggles. If she'd been a stranger, he probably would have tried to nod, but it wasn't. Jeanne was here, she was in Brody's line of fire, and she didn't know how much danger she was in. "Tony, tell her!" Brody ordered, thumping him against the wall again, making a mockery of Tony's exertions.

Jeanne met Tony's eyes and Tony looked away, humiliated. "I'm calling 911," she announced.

"I wouldn't do that," Brody said. "I'm a cop."

"Fine, then I'll call the FBI," she snapped.

"Got them on your speed dial, have you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," she replied, and Tony believed it.

"No!" he grunted. He did not want the FBI getting involved in this situation.

"Tony, are you crazy?" Jeanne demanded, and he glared at her. "I heard you tell him to stop, and I know he didn't."

"Wait . . ." Brody glanced at Tony and then back at Jeanne. He glowered at Tony. "Do you know this bitch?" he demanded, pulling Tony forward only to smash him back against the wall again. His head hit hard, and his sight went blurry.

"Do you?" Brody shook him again.

Tony felt Brody jerk as the taser leads hit him. Brody let out a roar, but he released Tony and turned on Jeanne before he went to his knees. Tony collapsed to the ground, his head spinning. He knew he had to stop Brody from hurting her, but he couldn't force himself up.

Brody got up and blundered out the end of the alley, and Jeanne hurried to Tony's side, kneeling beside him. "Tony, why aren't you getting up?" He blinked stupidly at her. She looked into his eyes and picked up her phone again.

"No," Tony managed to grunt.

"You need an ambulance."

"No," Tony repeated. "Gibbs."

"I don't have his number."

He felt towards his pocket clumsily. She pushed his hand out of the way and got his phone. He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away, and she looked down at him, her eyes wide. "No cops. No . . . ambulance."

"I'm calling Gibbs, I'll do what he says."

"No ambulance!" Tony repeated.

She freed herself and started looking through his phone menus. Tony quickly lost track of events after that.

Friday, 1804, Gibbs' basement

Gibbs looked up at the ringing of his phone and sighed. He didn't want to deal with work, he didn't want anyone around tonight. DiNozzo in particular was driving him nuts. Something was going on with the man, something that he wasn't letting on about. Gibbs had dropped a few hints to try to convince him to open up, but it wasn't either his or DiNozzo's style and things hadn't yet progressed to the point where he was going to pin the man to a wall and demand answers. Soon, though.

He walked over and looked at his caller ID. DiNozzo. Maybe he wouldn't have to. He flipped the phone open. "Yeah, DiNozzo?"

"Is this Agent Gibbs?" asked a female voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

"It is, who is this?"

"Jeanne Benoit. We met once –"

This could explain DiNozzo's peculiar behavior lately. "Where's Tony?" he demanded, cutting across her.

"Right in front of me," she said. "He's hurt, but he wouldn't let me call the police or an ambulance. The bastard who did this to him smacked his head into the wall several times."

"What bastard?"

"I don't know anything about him except that he claimed to be a police officer, and his name is Brody."

"Where are –"

"Damn, I think he's gone unconscious," she muttered. "Tony? Tony!"

"If he's unconscious, you have to call an ambulance."

"He was dead set against it."

"Call, damn it!" Gibbs thundered. "Where are you?"

"Stay on the line. I'll call for an ambulance on my phone." Gibbs was already on the move, yanking his jacket on and grabbing his keys as he headed out the door. This was nuts. What the hell was Dr. Benoit doing back? "Do you have a hospital preference?" she asked.

"If he can make it that far, Bethesda."

"I'll tell the paramedics, and I'll ride with him."

Gibbs was torn. He didn't know whether to believe her story or to assume the worst. On the other hand, he couldn't exactly stop her at the moment. "Where are you? I need to get a crime scene detail to the spot."

"Hanrahan's Pub, on –"

"I know the place," Gibbs said.

"Well, we're in the alley behind it."

"Fine. Why don't you let the paramedics take care of DiNozzo, and then you can tell me what happened when I get to you."

"If that man's a police officer –"

"He won't be granted free access to Bethesda, I can assure you," Gibbs said. "I have to call my – the rest of my team. Stay where you are." He hung up and dialed McGee. His junior agent answered on the second ring. "Need a crime scene unit in the alley behind Hanrahan's now."

"On it, Boss."

"Call Ziva and meet me there," Gibbs said and hung up.

Friday, 1807, McGee's apartment

McGee hung up his phone and stared at it in surprise. Usually it was DiNozzo calling him. Gibbs would call DiNozzo, then DiNozzo would call him and Ziva. That was the order of things. McGee dialed Ziva's number. She'd said something about going out tonight, so he doubted he'd get a very pleasant response.

"McGee, this had better be good," she said in a hurried undertone.

"Gibbs called. He wants us to meet him with the crime scene truck in the alley behind Hanrahan's."

"I am three blocks away," she replied, sounding startled.

"I'll get the truck and your gear then," McGee said, sighing. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. Maybe Tony was out of touch. If that was the case, Gibbs would be a bear all evening. He'd better bring Tony's gear from the office, too, just in case. He sighed and hurried out to the car.

Friday, 1811, alley behind Hanrahan's Bar, downtown Washington DC

"He's had a head trauma," Jeanne said to the paramedics as they came down the alley with the gurney. "You'll need a backboard. He's been jostled around enough already. I want to make sure he stays immobilized until he can be x-rayed."

"Yeah, lady, we got it," said the older of the two paramedics, his name tag said Mike. "Just stand back and let us do our jobs."

Jeanne started rattling off orders, and they both stared at her for a second. Then they hopped to. When they finally had Tony properly immobilized, Mike turned to her and said, "Do I know you?"

"I used to work at Mercy General," Jeanne said. "I started out in the Emergency Room there."

"Oh!" he said, nodding.

She looked around at the scene anxiously. She didn't want to leave Tony, but she didn't dare leave the scene unattended. Gibbs' reference to crime scenes had reminded her of her responsibility to see that any evidence was preserved. Abruptly a woman walked around the ambulance, and Jeanne recognized her from that brief time she'd spent in the NCIS office after she'd accused Tony of murdering her father. The dark-haired woman was dressed with quiet elegance, but her feet were bare. She held a pair of very high heels in one hand.

Jeanne leapt upon her appearance with relief. "You work for NCIS, don't you?" she asked the woman.

"I work with NCIS," the woman said, a peculiar emphasis on the word "with." Jeanne didn't grasp the distinction, but she also didn't care.

"Good. You can stay and preserve the crime scene. I'm going with Tony." Jeanne swung up into the back of the ambulance opposite Chuck, the younger of the two paramedics. Mike was climbing into the driver's seat. The woman peered in at the man on the gurney and her eyes widened.

"What has happened?" she asked, gazing at Tony in shock.

"Tony was attacked," Jeanne said. "I saw it happen. Tell Agent Gibbs that I'm going to the hospital with him."

"I should go, too," the woman said, her eyes wide as she gazed at Tony.

Jeanne sympathized with her, but she shook her head. "You can't, you have to protect the crime scene, and you actually have the authority to do that." The woman's head swiveled, and she looked like Jeanne had just handed her a very unpalatable truth. "Now, I have to leave my purse." She gestured towards where it lay on the ground in front of the dumpster. "At least, I think I do –"

"Yes, it is part of the crime scene," the woman said automatically.

"Well, I need my ID, or they won't let me in at the hospital. Can you . . ." She trailed off.

The woman blinked at her. She nodded towards the younger of the two paramedics. "You –"

"Chuck," Jeanne said quietly.

The woman glared at her. "Chuck, would you give me a pair of latex gloves?" He shook a pair out and handed them over. The woman pulled them on as she went over to Jeanne's purse and flipped through to her ID. "This?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," Jeanne said, taking it.

"What are you doing here?" the woman demanded.

"No time." Jeanne leaned forward. "Mike, take us to Bethesda." She and Chuck swung the doors shut and they took off, sirens blaring.

Friday, 1828, alley behind Hanrahan's Bar, downtown Washington DC

McGee pulled up just past the alley and parked the truck. He knew Ziva had to be here by now, so he grabbed her go bag and headed into the alley. Gibbs and Ziva had already put out crime scene tape, and they'd even drawn a small audience. Ziva was on the other side of the taped off area, talking to some of the people who had gathered. There was no sign of Tony. Gibbs would be pissed. McGee ducked under the tape and walked over.

"Ziva?" he murmured. Her feet were bare, and he was reasonably certain that she had something appropriate in the go bag. She turned to him and he held out the bag. She took it without a word and continued her questioning. McGee glanced around at the scene and then hurried back to the truck to get the equipment they needed.

Gibbs hung up his phone as McGee approached, carrying the bags. "Couldn't get hold of Tony, huh?" he asked, putting the bags down.

Gibbs turned on him, and McGee took a step back before the furious look in his eyes, not sure what had engendered it. "No, McGee," he snapped. "I know exactly where DiNozzo is. He's in an ambulance on his way to Bethesda right now." McGee blinked at him, stunned. "With Jeanne Benoit. Any more questions you want to ask, or would you rather do your job?"

McGee wanted desperately to ask what had happened and how it involved Jeanne Benoit, but he didn't dare. He squatted and unzipped the bag with the camera inside. "He . . . was he attacked? Where?" His eyes scanned the walls quickly and spotted a patch of something at about Tony's head height. "Is that blood?" he asked.

Gibbs whirled and looked where he was pointing. "Photos, McGee, then samples." McGee got the camera put together. "Ziva!" Gibbs roared. "Get your damned shoes on!"

McGee didn't even look around. Gibbs stalked the scene like an angry tiger, and McGee reflected that only one thing made Gibbs crankier than one of them being out of touch, and that was when one of them had the temerity to get hurt.

Friday, 1845, Bethesda Naval Medical Center

Jeanne had been sidelined by the Bethesda emergency staff, but she hadn't been kicked out altogether. She stood at the edge of the treatment room, her arms crossed, wishing she could do something, but though they weren't throwing her out summarily, she wasn't a practicing physician at this hospital.

From what she could hear, they weren't very worried about him. One of them had said something about DiNozzo having a hard head, which she knew for a fact. He'd shot with amazing accuracy no more than an hour after having been pistol whipped in the morgue. Nevertheless, she was worried. That had been a deeply alarming scene.

The door beside her opened and a man in a suit and bow tie stepped in. She didn't know him, but he seemed to recognize her. He walked over. "Dr. Benoit?" She nodded. "I'm Dr. Mallard, the NCIS Medical Examiner and Anthony's doctor of record."

"Oh," she said weakly.

"I would like to offer you my sincere condolences on the death of your father. I haven't had the opportunity before this, but I met him once, and I found him interesting and intelligent."

"Thank you," she said, feeling a little stunned. "You met him? When?"

"I'm afraid it was during an undercover operation," Dr. Mallard said, and Jeanne blinked at him, startled. Dr. Mallard gave her a self-deprecating smile. "Oh, I know. I make rather an unorthodox undercover agent, but, then, your father twigged to me at once."

"I see."

"Now, I can see that you're concerned about Anthony's well being, but I am here now, and I will see to it that his care is the best."

"I'm not leaving."

"I wasn't suggesting you leave the hospital, my dear, but Agent Gibbs is working in the dark." The older man's concerned and sympathetic tone was even more persuasive than his words. "He doesn't know what happened in that alley, and you are the only witness who can answer questions at this time. Director Shepard is waiting outside to speak to you."

Jeanne gulped. She never wanted to meet Director Shepard again. That woman was the reason all of this had happened. She was responsible for the whole mess – she had admitted as much – but Dr. Mallard was waiting expectantly. She grimaced and nodded, stepping outside to find the petite redhead waiting for her.

"Dr. Benoit," Director Shepard said with a polite nod. "I've arranged a private space for us to converse."

"Where?" Jeanne asked curtly. Director Shepard gave her a peculiar look and gestured for her to walk alongside. Jeanne did, keeping herself as calm as she could. They reached someone's office, but instead of taking the chair behind the desk, Director Shepard sat down in one of the guest chairs. Jeanne took the other, sinking down as her adrenaline started to ebb.

"What happened tonight, and how did you happen to be on the scene when it did?" Director Shepard asked.

"I . . ." Jeanne hadn't considered how her actions might look in light of what had happened. "I was . . ." She considered prevaricating, but decided that truth would serve better under the circumstances. "I was trying to engineer a chance meeting between Tony and I, so I could apologize for my behavior," she said. "I went to a bar I knew he spent time at, and –"

"How did you know?"

"I hired someone to check him out, and that came up in the report. I've been there every night for the past week." No doubt someone would have noticed her, so it would do more harm than good to lie about it. "He showed up tonight and I was nerving myself up to go talk to him when he suddenly slipped out the back door."

"It didn't occur to you that he might have seen you and wanted to avoid a confrontation?" Director Shepard asked.

"It did," Jeanne said. "However, I'd been watching him, and he'd never looked in my direction. I followed him, and when I got out to the alley, I heard voices. Tony was angry." She decided not to mention her impression that he'd been frightened. "He told someone to 'stop it.' The name was Brody. I crept up to see what was happening and . . ." She swallowed. "He was being sexually assaulted." Director Shepard's mouth dropped open. "And frankly, I'm not sure I should say anything else to you."

"I beg your pardon?" Director Shepard said.

"Well, you're not exactly unbiased about me, and I won't pretend that I'm unbiased about you."

"I have no bias against you, Dr. Benoit."

Jeanne was tired and past her endurance. "Horseshit," she said frankly.

"Well, if I'm biased, you'll have difficulty finding someone in our agency who isn't," Director Shepard replied. "Agent Gibbs is in charge of this investigation, and he –"

"Agent Gibbs doesn't have 'thing' about my father," Jeanne said.

Director Shepard's jaw tensed. "You and your father are separate entities," she said in a very taut voice.

"Oddly enough, that's not how you seemed to treat us when he was alive," Jeanne said wearily. "I would like to talk to Agent Gibbs."

"He's on the scene."

"Then I'll wait."

"He needs to know what happened."

"I just told you."

"You gave me no details. He needs –"

"Then get him on the phone and I'll tell him. I don't want to talk to you."

Director Shepard gazed at her for a long moment, and Jeanne felt like she was being measured. Evidently the other woman read her rightly, because she rose and said, "I'll be back in a moment." Then she left the room.

Friday, 1901, alley behind Hanrahan's Bar, downtown Washington DC

Gibbs looked at his phone irritably. Jenny. He flipped it open and lifted it to his ear. "Gibbs," he said.

"Jethro, Dr. Benoit has given me a very brief outline of what she claims happened, but she won't go into detail with me."

"Why not?"

"She says I'm biased."

Gibbs blinked. "Go figure, Jen. What did she say happened?"

"If we can believe that she's telling the truth, she claims that Tony was being sexually assaulted by another man." Gibbs felt like he'd been struck a blow between the eyes. "Jethro?" Jen asked, as if she were afraid she'd lost the call.

"Fuck!" The word burst out of him, a quiet expression of his unbelievable rage at the very thought. So that was what Tony had been . . . no, surely he'd have said something. Maybe he'd been aware of being followed by Dr. Benoit and had felt too guilty to tell anyone because she'd get in trouble. None of this made any sense.

"That's all the detail she'll go into with me."

"I need more than that, Jen," Gibbs said

"She'll talk to you," Jenny said, and the resentment in her tone was hard to miss.

"Put her on, then," Gibbs said.

Jen went silent for a moment, then he heard another voice. "Agent Gibbs?"

"Dr. Benoit. Please describe everything you saw in detail."

She cleared her throat audibly. "I went into the alley, and I heard Tony and the other man arguing. I followed the sound, and I heard Tony say 'Stop it, Brody.'"

"Brody? You're sure that was the name?"

"I think so. Tony's voice was perfectly clear. I heard a sort of thump, and Tony grunted. I looked around the dumpster, and I saw this huge man holding Tony up against the wall."

"How was he holding him?"

"He had both of Tony's wrists in one hand, above his head, and his knee pressed between Tony's legs."

Gibbs looked at the wall. "Whereabouts?"

"Probably four feet away from the dumpster. He split Tony's head open, so I think there should be a mark."

"We found it," Gibbs said. "He didn't move from that spot?"

"Not until I tasered the bastard," Dr. Benoit said, and Gibbs raised his eyebrows. So the taser was hers. Good to know. "Tony was fighting him but getting nowhere. Then Brody grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard. Tony tried even harder to get away, but he clearly couldn't. This guy has to be really strong." Gibbs nodded. "I got my taser and my phone out and dropped my purse, then I told Brody to back off. He tried to claim it was consensual, and he tried to get Tony to say so, too, but Tony just started struggling harder. I said I'd call 911, and Brody said I shouldn't because he was a police officer."

"He called himself a police officer?"

"He called himself a cop," Dr. Benoit replied. "So I said I'd call the FBI, and Tony protested. I guess up till that point Brody had assumed I was just a stranger, but what I said to Tony then seemed to make him realize we knew each other. Brody grabbed him by the shirt and smacked him back against the wall again, and I think that was the blow that concussed him. His eyes went glassy."

Gibbs was aware that both Ziva and McGee were watching him covertly but closely. He darted glares at both of them, and they both focused their full attention back on their jobs. "Go on."

"I tasered him. I'm afraid he dropped Tony, which wasn't good for his head, but I didn't really have a lot of choice. If Tony couldn't take him, I sure couldn't."

"No, that's true." Gibbs shook his head. "And then what?"

"Brody turned around, like he was going to come after me, but then he hit his knees. A minute later, he got up and left the alley. I went to Tony, and that's when he started refusing the hospital and the police. He asked for you and showed me his phone, so I called you."

"And then he passed out?" Gibbs asked.

"Right."

"Did you touch the wall or anything else at the scene?"

"I might have touched the dumpster, and I certainly touched Tony and Tony's phone, but I'm pretty sure I didn't touch the wall." She paused. "No, I don't think I did."

"Okay. Can you put the director back on?"

"Sure. He's doing okay, by the way. The doctors seemed to think he'll be fine."

"Thanks." Gibbs shook his head. A moment later Jen came back on the phone.

"Have you heard about anyone like this Brody guy?" she asked instantly, so evidently she'd been listening.

"No, Jen, but DiNozzo's been acting like a cat in a crowded room for a while now. I was getting ready to call him on it. We'll wrap things up here in twenty or so minutes, and I'll meet you at the hospital."

"Any other witnesses?"

"Not a soul. McGee's asking questions in the bar."

"See you soon, then," Jenny said, and Gibbs closed the phone and put it away.

McGee had come back while he talked to the director. "Anything?"

"They've noticed that Jeanne has been coming a lot lately, but nobody noticed anything to do with Tony. They know him, he was there tonight, and he left. That's it."

"We got everything?" Gibbs asked.

"I have sampled every stain I could find," Ziva said, and she looked it. That fancy dress would never be the same. "How is Tony?"

"Not sure. You two take the evidence back to Abby. I'll call you from the hospital."

"But Boss –" McGee exclaimed.

"Get going." Gibbs left them and went to his car.