Title: Cleaning Up
Author: Kodiak bear
Cat: Gen
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,970
Characters: Tony, Gibbs, Abby and Ducky
Summary: Just some aftermath from Missing, episode 1x21.
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 1x21.

AN: About the body count – I know that Atlas made five and that wasn't counting Cowen, but Atlas had told the reporter that, "Two of my buddies have gone missing and I think I'm next." So I think the others happened at another duty station so only two bodies mentioned for this crime scene.

Cleaning Up

Gibbs might've been smiling now, but he sure as hell hadn't been twelve hours ago. He kept an eye on Tony, watched as his agent dumped McGee from his seat and reclaimed his desk with a disgruntled expression. The very wet-behind-the-ears computer specialist moved post-haste and even gave DiNozzo a mildly freaked-out once over. Gibbs knew McGee was taking in the filthy clothes, roughed-up state of the other agent. That was good. Gibbs had plans for McGee; there was a lot of potential in the kid, but he was as green as they came. Every little bit of wariness for the job might someday save his life.

Kind of like Tony today. A belt knife. Way to go, DiNozzo. After Kate had secured Vanessa – and that'd been one Gibbs hadn't seen coming – Tony had retrieved the small silver knife from where he'd dropped it and displayed it proudly. "Rule number 9, Boss." Then he'd tucked it back in his belt.

Atlas had rasped, "Thought you said --"

"Gunny, you sure could use a bath…" Tony had interrupted whatever Atlas had been about to say, kneeling next to the ragged marine. "…and a steak," Tony continued, "beer and…"

Whatever Tony had rambled on with after that, Gibbs had tuned him out. He'd left Kate watching over Atlas and Tony while he hauled Vanessa from the sewer and coordinated the EMTs. There was a lot of paperwork to do but the one form he wouldn't be filling out was the one on his mind. No deaths, not for Atlas and not for Tony.

Sacco.

He'd be filling one out for that guy, the one he'd had pegged for guilty. The one he'd thought had taken his agent. Huh. He'd been on this job for a long time and he wasn't surprised by being surprised. Least not that much. People had an uncanny ability to live with too many lies, and mostly you never knew until it was too late. An agent that lived long enough to earn longevity was eighty percent intuitive and twenty percent lucky…or maybe it was more like sixty-forty, seventy-thirty, point being, you learned to listen to your gut and then scramble like hell when it didn't speak loud enough to be heard the first time.

"—dear boy, you'll get your shower, but first a stop at autopsy and Abby needs your clothes. Procedures, Anthony, you know how it goes. I doubt Jethro would want your kidnapping charges dropped from the prosecution's case because of mishandling evidence."

Gibbs stopped typing – he was vaguely sure the computer had locked up anyway – and realized Ducky was hovering over Tony's desk, arms folded. "Tony," he barked, "Go with Ducky."

"Boss…"

Tony almost looked like he'd started to doze in his chair, tired and droopy. Gibbs frowned. It was still early but then again, DiNozzo had been drugged, dragged, and locked in a filthy sewer.

"Yes, Boss," Tony capitulated. It was the look. Always worked on Tony. Better than it'd ever worked on any other agent he'd taken on – maybe that's why he kept Tony around.

He watched, same as he always did, as Tony followed Ducky to the elevator. Then he went back to his report. Damn. Definitely locked up. Gibbs fought down the urge to shove the monitor off his desk. Son of a bitch. "McGee!"

oOo

Hours later, he walked into Abby's lab. Gibbs noted the feet sticking out from under a desk. He paused and looked under, tilting his head sideways. Abby's red futon was laid out, Tony, curled up on top of it, mostly hidden under one of Abby's white lab coats, a peek of scrub tops and bottoms showing. Ducky must've loaned him a pair but why the hell wasn't his agent at home in bed?

"Isn't he cute when he's sleeping?" Abby whispered over his shoulder.

"That's just 'cause he's quiet," Gibbs deadpanned. "Thought I told Ducky to send him home?"

"You did," Abby chirped. She stepped around Gibbs and headed towards her computer, rapidly typing keys until a chemical formula appeared on the large plasma screen, "but I think Tony might be a little creeped out by the whole 'locked up with dead bodies' thing. Anyway, you might be interested to know that his blood tests showed the same mix of ephedrine, dihydrocodeine and caffeine."

"I already knew he was drugged, Abbs." Gibbs had been on the phone with Tony when the drug had overpowered him. He'd heard plenty of scary things before, but maybe he was getting too old for this job, because he'd felt something icy and tight in his stomach when Tony had slurred, "I'm not feeling so well…" and it'd been followed by an even fuzzier "…Ithink I screwed up, Boss," then the sound of the phone hitting the pavement.

Gibbs wasn't stupid, in the span of seconds he'd replayed the conversation in Abby's lab about Bron, about how Atlas had probably been taken. He'd kept shouting in the phone, hoping someone would be near, that he'd get Tony back on the phone…something, but all he'd heard was the sound of keys rattling – falling, he'd realized, when he'd arrived at the scene and found them on the ground by the car-- he'd already started moving towards the elevator at that point and he'd shouted one more time at Tony, hoping like hell DiNozzo had been coherent enough to get the last. "We're coming for you!"Gibbs hated feeling powerless, and he'd never felt it more than he had when the sound of Tony collapsing had come through the cell phone – well, with one exception and that was something he ruthlessly shoved far back, far into his distant memory. He'd known there was no way he was going to get to Tony in time. Whoever had drugged Tony was going to take him. The ice in his gut had been replaced with burning that'd had nothing to do with stealing too much of DiNozzo's cold pizza earlier that morning. He'd lost too much in his life and he'd be damned if he was going to lose anymore.

She smiled impishly. "Yes, but did you know that Tony's last drink was ginger ale?"

"You examined his stomach contents?" The hell? "Did DiNozzo puke in autopsy?"

"No," she drawled, "I asked him."

Abby looked very satisfied. Gibbs glared.

She then looked thoughtfully at her screen. "He didn't even have a beer for what could've been his last meal. That kind of sucks, Gibbs."

"I'm going to the crime scene." He still had a few details to work out for his reports and seeing the chemicals in Tony's bloodwork, talking about his potentially last meal -- do you blame a guy for wanting to go do something that would work towards putting that psycho-killer behind bars for a long, long time?

"I wanna come!" She was already reaching for her bag when Gibbs stalled her with a look. Abby stilled, a rarity. "Please, Gibbs? We almost lost him…I just…I need to know what it was like for Tony." She shrugged, black pigtails scrunching with the movement. She sensed Gibbs' unspoken "no" and pressed on, "How can I help him if I don't know?"

Gibbs shook his head and strode toward the glass door. "I'll take pictures," he pointed at the protruding feet, "stay with DiNozzo; he needs you more here. Tony, listen to Abby."

A subdued but not-even remotely guilty, "Yes, Boss," followed him into the corridor. Tony always ran to Abby when he needed comfort. Ever since that one case, not long after Gibbs' had hired him. It'd finally broken the ice between the two and there'd never been any going back. Gibbs grinned all the way into the elevator. Abby babied Tony, which was good, freed Gibbs to be an ass when he had to be – and even those times when he didn't and just wanted to. Everyone needed someone to turn to for a little bit of loving and sometimes Gibbs was convinced Tony needed more than the average puppy.

OoO

He followed the string-line to the cellar. Gibbs had checked in with the MP on watch, seen a couple of the junior agents scouring the tunnels for more evidence under Kate's watchful eye – at least two other marines had died down here – the riveted door was closed, crime scene tape across in a large X. A swatch of burlap covered the small slit in the middle of the door, a heavy cross bar kept it bolted on the outside.

Tony had explained how he'd freed them. He'd used his belt knife, unscrewed the chain from the wall, then used it to lever up that same metal bar that Gibbs was staring at right now. Hours ago, this had all unfolded, and he hadn't been here to make a damn bit of difference.

"DiNozzo, you done good," he murmured, slipping on gloves and fingering the bolt before lifting it carefully. He swung it open, hearing the rusty protest, before stepping carefully through the tape barrier.

The smell was overpowering. Ducky had already removed the other decayed bodies, but the stench would probably never leave this damp room. Water dripped and pooled. Dead bee carcasses littered the floor, along with other sewer detritus. Pictures had been taken, a few put in evidence jars, but the rest of the bees were left behind. With survivors, the case against Vanessa was practically airtight. That and he and Kate had overheard her entire conversation with Tony before she'd realized they were there. Back when she'd thought she'd be able to kill Tony and Atlas, maybe a little differently than what she'd planned – or maybe she'd intended to put them back in the cell and let them starve…Gibbs didn't know, wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he'd interrogate her tomorrow. Maybe tonight if he couldn't sleep.

Considering that he was standing in what could've been his agent's tomb, Gibbs ruefully considered it was going to be a long night. That's okay. There was a reason for all that coffee and taste was only part of the equation.

OoO

"I really liked Cowboy. He wasn't supposed to die."

"You drugged him, hauled him into that sewer, and left him to die – what else do you suppose was going to happen!"

"He saw me with Sacco! I had to take him… I had to! Don't you understand? Eight years, eight awful years, and I was almost free. I was almost free…"

Gibbs hit stop on the video. Full confession. Better than he'd hoped for and better for everyone involved. No long, drawn out trial. Vanessa had plea bargained…she'd go to the psyche ward, maybe get parole in ten to twenty, twenty if he had his way. And all it'd taken him was one night, less than twelve hours, less time than Tony had been missing.

"Scotch, Jethro?" Gibbs followed the proffered glass tumbler, up the arm, to the familiar face. Ducky, sans his white coat, still wearing his blue, candy-can striped bow-tie, smiled. "I figured I'd find you here still."

"Apparently I'm not the only one." He took the glass and studied Duck as he pulled Kate's chair over and settled down. Gibbs raised an eyebrow, casting a knowing look at the half-full bottle of Glenmorangie. "Thought you only prescribed the good stuff when the case ended badly?"

Ducky raised his tumbler and said wryly, "Or when one of our own has a close call, I think. I know young Anthony gave us all quite a scare today."

"Yesterday, Duck."

Gentle blue eyes crinkled. "Quite right, quite right. Regardless, all's well that ends well, they say, hmmm?"

Gibbs cocked his head, smiling. "So they say, Duck. So they say."

That was one he could drink to.

THE END