AN: this will, eventually, be a Milsom Bay story but you don't need to have read those stories to follow this one.

I haven't really seen Ellie yet so I guess this takes place post Ziva and pre Bishop

"Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, how can I help you? Is that you, Mouse?" Special Agent Tony DiNozzo put the phone down with a suppressed sigh and programmed yet another number into his blocked list.

"DiNozzo!" barked Special Agent Jethro Gibbs.

Tony looked up and met Gibbs' icy glare, "Working on it, Boss," he said wearily.

"Work faster!" ordered Gibbs, "going for coffee," he announced.

Tony watched him go; somehow he didn't think the Boss would be bringing him back a chocolate muffin. He dropped his head into his hands.

"Don't like to say 'told you so'," said McGee from his desk.

"Yes, you do, McIveneverhadacrazygirlfriend," corrected Tony.

"Oh, so you admit she's a girlfriend," said Tim.

"No," said Tony through gritted teeth, "like I told you, I was just being nice."

"You know," continued Tim, "I would have thought you'd have learned your lesson from Brenda Bittner. I thought you'd sworn off one night stands after what happened."

"Thanks, Tim, for bringing up bad memories."

"What bad memories?" asked Abby arriving at McGee's desk, "what are we talking about?"

"Tony's girlfriend has called fifteen times this morning," said McGee.

"Fourteen," said Tony, "and Mouse isn't my girlfriend."

"You know, Tony," said Abby earnestly, "giving someone a nickname like that can make people think you care about them."

"It can?" said McGee in a puzzled voice.

"Sometimes," said Tony acidly, "and I didn't give her the nickname. That's how she introduced herself."

"Tony, you really should be careful," said Abby, "you should learn how to talk to women without flirting. Remember Brenda Bittner …"

"Thank you, Abby," said Tony trying to keep his temper, "but McPious there has already given me the lecture."

"And you should listen to Tim," said Abby, "because he's right."

"About what?" asked Palmer walking from the elevator with an autopsy report.

"Tony's girlfriend," said Tim.

"Ooh," nodded Jimmy, "still stalking, is she? It makes me glad I'm in a stable, committed relationship. I don't have to 'put myself out there' anymore."

Tony turned a wounded expression on Palmer; he was used to a bit more sympathy from the Autopsy Gremlin. Jimmy gulped as he realised that he hadn't been very empathetic, "I didn't mean, I d-d-didn't …"

"It's all right, Palmer," sighed Tony. "Hey, I'm going for coffee."

"You can't," said McGee, "Gibbs said you can't leave your desk while your phone keeps ringing."

"Well, you answer it for me, McGee," snapped Tony, "I'll only be gone a few minutes!"

"No," said Tim with a smug smile, "time you realised the consequences of your actions."

Abby and Jimmy grimaced at each other. Abby patted Tony on the head and then she and Jimmy beat a tactical retreat.

Tony put his head back in his hands and closed his eyes as he thought back to how this had all begun.

FLASHBACK

Tony reached out for a packet of sugar on the coffee shop counter but a small hand beat him to it.

"Sorry," said Tony and the owner of the small hand at the same time.

"After you," said Tony politely.

"Thank you," said the young woman in a voice barely above a whisper.

Tony took his own sugar and they both then reached out for a stirrer at the same time.

"After you this time," said the young woman.

Tony nodded, smiled, took the stirrer and left.

A couple of days later Tony was leaving the coffee shop when someone swept past him in a hurry. He just managed to avoid dropping his drink but the gasp behind him and the sound of liquid hitting the floor suggested someone else had not been so lucky. He turned back to see the young woman looking forlornly as a coffee puddle spread round her feet.

Later, Tony would regret buying her a new cup of coffee but her lost look had spoken to him and he had acted without thinking and at the time she had just given him a grateful smile. The next day she had insisted on buying him a coffee and had introduced herself as Mouse.

"Mouse?"

"It's a nickname. My real name is Maisie. Maisie Elkins."

"Tony. Tony DiNozzo. No nickname," he replied, "thanks for the coffee," he said, "see you around."

It took him a while but he realised that he did 'see her around' – a lot. At first he could put it down to their getting to the coffee shop at the same time but he was half an hour later one morning and she was there in the queue. As an experiment he got there earlier than usual the next day and found her waiting with a shy smile and little wave.

Tony didn't know what to do and that was doubly perplexing to him as he didn't usually have to overthink his dealings with the opposite sex but this was an unusual situation. Even without the bad memories of Brenda Bittner he would have trodden carefully with Mouse who he could tell was a vulnerable soul who he could easily hurt.

Fate, in the shape of Gibbs and a stakeout, intervened and he didn't get to the coffee shop for three days and he hoped this would fix things but when he went back on the fourth day, Mouse was waiting for him.

"Hi, Tony," she said softly.

"Mouse," he acknowledged.

"I'm glad you're back," she confided, "I was worried you might be doing something dangerous."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"The barista told me you're a federal agent," she said, "NCIS, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"But you're OK?"

"Fine. So what do you do, Mouse? You seem to spend a lot of time here."

"Oh, well, I'm taking some classes at Community College. I like to hang out here before class. And it's handy for someone … someone I have to meet sometimes."

Tony signalled his order to the barista, "that's good. What classes are you taking?"

"Graphic design. I like to draw. And I'm learning to make jewellery too."

"Good," said Tony, sighing with relief as he was handed his coffee. "Well, see you."

"Bye, Tony. I'm glad you're all right."

Tony thought about simply switching coffee shops but, while the DiNozzo version of the Gibbs' gut was churning, he couldn't quite justify it to himself. Mouse's explanation seemed reasonable. Besides, according to his co-workers, close acquaintance with him usually made people revise any foolish initial favourable impressions. No, he reasoned, he liked the coffee shop and Mouse would soon go off him. No need to change anything.

It was bad luck, Tony thought, that they were called out on a BOLO at a Metro station close by the Community College and even worse luck that Mouse was there as he ran after their suspect and brought him down with a flying tackle. He had never cursed looking dashing before but when he saw the hero worship in Mouse's eyes he had to squash a groan.

From there it went downhill. Mouse was still at the coffee shop every morning but now she sometimes lurked by the gates to the Navy Yard apparently hoping for a glimpse of Tony and it seemed she was monitoring police radios as she started turning up at crime scenes as well.

"Gibbs, Gibbs!" said Abby excitedly as the team entered her lab, "I think I've found a connection between yesterday's crime scene and that one last week."

"They're separate crimes, Abby," said Tony.

"That's what we thought," said Abby triumphantly, "but look!" She brought up pictures of crowds at each crime scene.

Tony hoped the link wasn't what he thought but Gibbs noticed immediately,

"Her!" he jabbed a finger at the screen, "she was at both places. What's that in her hand? Abby, go closer."

"It's a sketch pad," said Tony wearily, "she likes to sketch."

"You know her?" demanded Gibbs.

"Yeah. Well, sort of. She goes to the same coffee shop as me."

"And?"

"And she's got a bit of a crush on me," admitted Tony.

There was a joint sigh of mingled despair and resignation from his co-workers.

"Ton-ee," said Abby reproachfully, "I thought you were going to be more careful."

"I thought you'd learned from the Bittner affair," said McGee.

"I haven't done anything," protested Tony. "Boss, I promise I haven't done anything."

"McGee," ordered Gibbs, "do a background check on this woman. Make sure she's not connected."

"On it, Boss," said McGee, "oh, Tony. I'll need her details."

"DiNozzo," barked Gibbs.

"Yes, Boss."

"Fix this. Now."

"Yes, Boss."

And he had tried. The next day he had bought Mouse a coffee and explained that she mustn't turn up at crime scenes. That it could be dangerous for her and distracting for him. And she had flushed with embarrassment, her eyes had filled with tears but she had agreed that it was foolish and she wouldn't do it again.

"You should find someone your own age," said Tony, wincing at having to say the words, "I'm too old for you."

"I don't like men my age," said Mouse darkly, "they're immature."

Tony refrained from telling her that his co-workers rated him as immature and he also resisted the temptation to pat her hand reassuringly.

"You'll find one you like," he said hopefully.

"I thought I already had," Mouse said sadly.

"Got to go," said Tony. He left the coffee shop resolved to find somewhere else to buy his morning beverage.

Two peaceful days passed. Peaceful apart from some relentless teasing from the team. And then, on the third day, they were called out to a notification of a fight in progress in a DC park but when they got there they found, not fighting sailors, but Mouse sitting on a bench sketching a fountain.

On the fourth day an envelope arrived on Tony's desk. When he opened it he found a bundle of drawings of himself.

"Wow," said McGee, coming to look at the pictures, "your girlfriend is talented."

"She's not my girlfriend, McGee," said Tony through gritted teeth.

"Could have fooled me," said Tim.

On the fifth day Tony's car wouldn't start. When it was towed to the garage the mechanic discovered that water had been put in the gas tank.

On the sixth day the phone calls began to Tony's desk phone. Each time he answered it he heard Mouse say she wanted to see him or that she was missing him. After an increasingly short length of time he would put the phone down and programme the number into his phone. The problem was that she seemed to have acquired a huge number of phones as each call came in on a new number which he couldn't risk not answering.

As Tony's nerves frayed, Gibbs became more and more irritable.

END FLASHBACK

Gibbs swept back with his coffee and, to his surprise, a Jamaican mocha for Tony.

"Thanks, Boss," said Tony feeling absurdly grateful for this small act of kindness. The milk of human kindness had seemed in short supply in recent days.

"Get on to Legal," said Gibbs, "get a restraining order on Maisie Elkins."

"But, Boss," said Tony.

"It's for her own good," said Gibbs with surprising gentleness, "she can't go on like this."

"And neither can we," said Tim softly.

Tony glared at him but went, reluctantly, to find a lawyer.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs was relaxing in his basement with a bourbon and word-working magazine when he heard feet coming down the stairs.

"DiNozzo," he called out.

"Hi, Boss," said Tony, "how'd you know it was me?"

Gibbs just looked at him quizzically.

"Legal are working on the restraining order," sighed Tony, "should be ready after the weekend."

Gibbs shrugged, "it's the only way, DiNozzo. Tim was right, we can't work like this."

"I know, Boss. And I'm sorry it's got out of hand."

Gibbs shrugged again and offered the bottle to Tony.

Tony shook his head, "No thanks, Boss. I might go to the coffee shop again. I've got an idea."

"Let it go, Tony."

"I will, Boss," he turned to go but then looked back, "Boss. I promise you that I didn't sleep with Mouse or flirt with her or anything. I didn't lead her on."

Gibbs gazed at Tony,

"I believe you, Tony. Go on. Go home and get some rest. See you on Monday. You'll need to start work on the Dalrymple appeal."

"Night, Boss. Thanks."

NCISNCIS

"Where's Tony?" asked Tim as he entered the squad room on Monday morning. "His car's not in the garage."

"He sent me a text yesterday," said Gibbs, "asked for a couple days off."

"Hiding from his stalker, is he?" smirked Tim.

Gibbs took his glasses off, the better to glare at McGee, "you think this is funny, Agent McGee?"

"Er, no, Boss, of course not," said Tim.

"'Cos I seem to remember when your neighbour's kid started racking up bills on your credit card that DiNozzo sorted it out for you," said Gibbs.

"Yes, Boss. Sorry, Boss. I guess I got a bit carried away with …"

"With what?"

"Well, with Tony being the victim of a woman."

"Hmmph," said Gibbs eloquently.

"Yes, Boss," said McGee interpreting the grunt, "I'll try to be more sympathetic."

"You do that," said Gibbs, "and get on to Legal. See if they can file for the restraining order without DiNozzo being around."

McGee picked up the phone but paused as a middle-aged woman walked up to Gibbs' desk.

"What can we do for you, Sal?" asked Gibbs.

Sally Merton worked part-time as one of the Agency's psychiatrists. McGee crossed his fingers as he hoped it wasn't time for another evaluation and, if it was, that it wouldn't be with Dr Merton who it was impossible to bamboozle.

"Is Agent DiNozzo here?" she asked.

"He's got a couple days off," answered Gibbs.

"Oh," said Sally, "I guess he forgot."

"Forgot what?" asked Gibbs.

"We were supposed to meet this morning to discuss … something but he didn't turn up.

"When did he make the appointment? He texted me yesterday afternoon to ask for the time off."

"I saw him at the coffee shop on Friday night. We fixed it up then."

"He must have forgot," said Gibbs.

"Guess so. He knew it was important though. Never mind. I'll catch up with him when he gets back."

She turned to go but something made Gibbs call after her,

"What's this about, Sal?"

The doctor hesitated for a moment, "I suppose it's not really breaking a confidence. It's about Maisie."

"Maisie?" queried Gibbs.

"Mouse," offered McGee.

Sally's piercing eyes were turned on McGee, "I prefer to call her by her given name. I don't want to reinforce the stereotypes suggested by her nickname."

"Uh, sorry," stammered McGee, "I didn't mean to imply …"

Gibbs ignored this, "Why would DiNozzo want to talk to you about Mo-Maisie?"

"He'd seen the two of us talking at the coffee shop. He thought we might be friends."

"And are you?" asked Gibbs.

"In a manner of speaking. I'm more friends with her father, retired Chief Petty Officer Ted Elkins. We served together before we both left the Navy."

"I didn't know there was a Navy connection," said Tim.

"Ted asked me to help Maisie when she moved to DC after …"

"After what?" asked Gibbs.

"Maisie had a traumatic experience. She's getting better but I've been giving her some informal counselling, supporting her."

"So what did DiNozzo talk to you about?" asked Gibbs.

"He was concerned about how he should be dealing with Maisie."

A stifled laugh sounded from McGee's desk and Sally's eyes swivelled in his direction, "you wish to comment, Agent McGee?"

"No, of course not," said McGee as he tried to keep a straight face.

Sally sniffed eloquently, "He told me about the possibility of a restraining order and we agreed that we'd meet Maisie at the coffee shop this morning and talk to her one more time."

"Did you speak to the young woman this morning?" asked Gibbs.

"No, I didn't. She wasn't there either."

"Thought she was always there in the morning," said Gibbs.

"She is," said Sally thoughtfully, "she started going there because it was convenient for me when I was working at the Yard and then she got to like it." She ignored McGee's soft chuckle.

"Hmmm," said Gibbs, and he pulled out his cell and hit speed dial #1. No answer. "Went straight to voice mail."

"He's on vacation," pointed out Sally.

"McGee," said Gibbs.

"Boss?"

"You ever know Tony turn his cell off?"

"No, Boss."

"See if you can trace his cell."

"Boss?"

"I don't like it. DiNozzo didn't turn up at the coffee house. And Maisie's not there either."

"But he's on leave, Boss."

"McGee!"

"On it, Boss!"

NCISNCIS

Tony groaned as he woke up. He raised his hand to touch his forehead and jumped when something hit his head. He opened his eyes and saw that, instead of his watch, he was wearing a manacle attached to a chain screwed into the wall. He shook his head and tried to focus in the dim light. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he saw a figure sitting on a chair on the other side of the room.

"Mouse," he croaked, "what have you done?"