Chapter 4- Close Call

A few thin rays of yellow sunlight defiantly streamed from an otherwise unbroken cloud cover that stretched over DC, muting the light that reached the NCIS squad room. Among papers rustling, drawers closing, and telephones ringing, the elevator dinged and admitted a chipper McGee, who strode into the middle of a typical morning bickering session between Tony and Ziva. He also tripped over a backpack lying forlornly on the carpet between the two desks. After narrowly avoiding a faceplant he aimed a glare at Tony, all chipperness gone.

"See Ziva?" Tony said, not looking at either of them. "now McGonkers is gonna move the backpack cause that's what nice little boys do."

"Don't you dare touch that bag," Ziva hissed at McGee, who'd bent to pick up the bag in question. He froze, as was the proper response when told not to do something by Ziva, he'd learned. "Leave it," she continued.

McGee gave both of them a weird look but left the backpack, slowly walking to his desk and sitting. He settled in with his coffee to watch the argument unfold.

"Fine," Tony said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head. "But you're taking the fall when Gibbs trips over it."

McGee continued to customarily huff over his coffee in the following silence, earning a look from the senior field agent.

"Knock it off, Probie. You sound like you're in labor over there."

"Your backpack, your problem. Gibbs is more likely to take my word over yours anyway." Ziva spoke, ignoring Tony's comment to McGee.

"Oh, well we'll just see about that, Ziva."

"See about what, exactly?" McGee asked.

"Tony is too lazy to pick up his own backpack and is convinced someone else will take care of it, because that is, apparently, what people do. I disagree."

"And you're also wrong, besides, Gibbs won't care." Tony interrupted.

Before Ziva could retort the aforementioned grey-haired investigator strode into the squad room. Well, he strode until he tripped over DiNozzo's backpack, barely keeping his balance and a hold on his coffee cup.

"DiNozzo," he barked, continuing to his desk. "what is your bag doing on the floor?"

"Social experiment boss. Ziva failed."

"Get it and gas up the truck. We have a missing Marine." The boss ordered, retrieving his own equipment. "Let's go."

Ziva and McGee collected their things and headed towards the elevator, a small smile on both their faces.

-Nia-

A small thud woke me from my slumber and I sat up quickly, my unruly hair forming a messy halo around my head. It was a car door. I launched myself off the couch, scattering loose feathers that floated slowly back to the floor. Stopping with my back against the wall by the window, I glanced sideways through to the street. A big truck was parked in front of the apartment building, with three men and a woman in black windbreakers milling about it. I watched as they closed up the vehicle and headed toward the entrance. With the older one it was harder to tell, but the blonde one I was sure about. Everything about him screamed cop. Then a brown haired one walked into my field of vision. It was the guy from the gas station, Tony DiNozzo. Interesting. He too, had law enforcement written all over him, though less overtly than his coworker. But the woman was different. Obviously, she was with the Feds, but the way she carried herself reminded me of my training back at the school. She was an assassin; Mossad, by the looks of it. So what was a Mossad assassin doing with these guys. I filed this away to puzzle over later and took a closer look at the truck. The letters NCIS were blazoned across the side in big bold letters. Navy cops. I probably had only a few minutes before they made it up here.

Biting back a swear word, I whirled into action, silently flitting around the apartment, cleaning up any traces of myself. I took care of hair and feathers first. A pair of gloves I found in the closet helped me leave no prints as I put my collections in a ziplock bag. The floor, the couch, the blankets, the shower drain. I changed back into my jeans, t-shirt, and jacket and wrapped the plastic bag, and Marines t-shirt into the blankets and stuffed the bundle in my backpack. In record time I wiped the entire apartment clean of prints, including the mittens and replaced them in the closet. I was closing the bedroom window behind me as the navy cops were let in the door. I briefly had eye contact with the grey-haired one, but had already scaled the brick wall and was safely across the roof before he'd crossed the room. The window opened and I heard the investigator give orders to his subordinates. By the time they reached the roof, I'd be in the air, and long gone.

Flimsy crime scene tape wiggled across the door frame as the special agents processed the scene. McGee stood outside the apartment with the Marine's brother and roommate. Inside the apartment, Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva scoured the rooms but couldn't find any prints whatsoever.

"Someone was here," Ziva said.

"My money's on the chick outside the window," Tony piped up, stowing the print kit.

The interviews weren't very forthcoming either, as far as anyone knew, Glenn didn't have any enemies, and those who were interviewed where at a loss for what happened.

"The last the brother saw him was yesterday afternoon, for lunch. No one's seen him since. Apparently, he was headed downtown, but no one knows exactly where," McGee reported, as Gibbs peered at the window he'd seen the young lady through. He scribbled down a description on his notepad and waved Ziva over.

"Make sure you get this," he ordered, pointing at a strange warping in the corner. Ziva obediently snapped a few photos from several angles. DiNozzo walked into the bedroom, stowing his own notepad.

"Nothing in the bathroom either," he started. "even the drains were clean."

Gibbs stopped pawing through dresser drawers and paused. Tony noticed.

"What's up, Boss?" he asked as Gibbs brushed past him out of the bedroom.

"The brother still here?" the former sniper called.

Mark paused as he heard his name called down the hallway. He turned to see one of the investigators start toward him.

"Do you or your brother clean your drains regularly?"

Mark frowned at the odd question. "Not really, unless they're backed up or something."

"Had either of you done so recently?"

"No, not that I know of."

Gibbs thanked the young man and re-entered the apartment.

-Nia-

Dang it.

I'd gotten sloppy and they'd seen me. Back at the school I would've been beaten for a screw up like that. Assuming they were thorough, the cops would probably find the clean drains, though that could easily be written off as general cleanliness. The warping on the window would be less explainable, assuming they could puzzle out how that came to be.

I smiled to the sidewalk I trudging along, being careful not to bump into anyone else walking the street. That had happened once, back when I was freshly escaped. I'd tripped into just a random passerby and they'd somehow felt my wings through my jacket. But I had disappeared into the crowd before they could raise a scene. I couldn't imagine what they thought they were-what were the odds that some unremarkable-looking girl walking down the street had wings sprouting out of her back? Crazy.

The science fiction nature of my existence was my disguise.

I wondered if the NCIS people would take the window with them. It was the only lead I'd left them with. Of course, they wouldn't find anything on it. Even so, I redoubled my pace, trying with all might to look like a normal young lady taking a morning stroll around downtown DC.

Gibbs went back to the bedroom while his team wrapped up at the scene. He stared at the window as if the girl he saw out of it would appear. Dark hair, dark eyes, tan skin,slight build. She looked smart. On a hunch, he opened it and carefully climbed out onto the rickety fire escape, his gray hair blowing in the breeze. Grey light from the clouds bathed the alleyway below as he turned and crouched in front of the warped corner of the window.

"McGee!" He called.

The summoned agent stuck his head out the window. "Yeah, boss?"

"Get the landlord. I want this window."

Hi beloved readers! If you care to review, guess what happens next. I'm curious to know what you're thinking, cause I was cryptic on purpose. Any feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoyed it.

-Jutuvestija