Son of the Scalpel
by channelD
written for: the NFA And Baby Makes Three challenge. The aim is to create a story involving two characters and a baby.
rating: K plus
genre: light drama/fluff
pairing: Ziva and Jimmy (Zimmy?)
other characters: the team, and just about everyone else
setting: Washington DC, May
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disclaimer: I still own nothing of NCIS.
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Chapter One: Saturday afternoon at the Ice Cream Shop
Jimmy Palmer lifted the crying baby out of the stroller, and expertly put it to his shoulder. "Aw, there, there, Ike," he said soothingly. They were stopped outside the ice cream parlor, and the crowd out on the streets around DuPont Circle on this fine spring day flowed around them, with little complaint.
"Will he be quiet enough if we take him inside, do you think?" Ziva asked, dubiously. Her mouth watered for ice cream, but she didn't want to be part of a scene.
" 'Dear'," Gibbs said into his mike from the van parked nearby. "Remember to call Palmer 'dear' now and then. You must love him; you married him, after all." He grinned, and so did Tony, sitting next to him. Tim, in the back of the van, only rolled his eyes.
"It is not a real marriage," Ziva murmured. "We are under cover."
"You got a baby out of it somehow," Tony said into his mike. "And you can spare me the details of that…Unless they're really juicy details, in which case you can put them on Facebook—ow!" He recoiled at the Gibbs slap.
"It is not my baby," Ziva persisted, as the threesome entered the shop.
Jimmy scanned the flavor charts. "Oh, good; they have sugar-free chocolate chip mint. I'll take a double scoop of that in a cup," he said.
"Look for the suspect," Gibbs directed.
Ziva's gaze swept the room. Of course Palmer would be absorbed in the ice cream. He wasn't an agent. He shouldn't be in on this. Oh, if things had only been different…
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Four days before…
"It will be an unusual op," said Jenny. "Not out-of-sensibility unusual, but unusual for us."
"I thought the FBI usually did the weird crap," said Gibbs, amused despite himself. "We need two agents to go undercover to get the goods on a baby-smuggling ring because of a dead Marine and his wife? Jen, if you called me up here to volunteer my team, well, I can't think of any group less likely to fulfill this without squabbling and breaking cover. You remember how David and DiNozzo did the one time they were sent undercover as a couple." He laughed.
"I just want one of your team. Ziva. With her skills, she's our best agent of either sex to protect a baby."
Gibbs sobered with lightning speed. "A baby? You're using a real live baby in this op??"
"The role of the baby has already been cast. Shane Oliver MacInnis, age 9 months, already a trooper, having appeared in two baby-themed TV commercials. He's the son of agents Marcie and Dan MacInnis, of the Pentagon field office. They understand the risks and trust us." She handed him a photo of a pink-cheeked, happy baby. "Yes, there is a slight risk, but we'll do everything we can to minimize even that. A baby is vital to this op; our couple has to pose as parents unable to have another child of their own and seeking to adopt while bypassing the legal red tape. Most of the time, whenever possible, we'll use a dummy in place of Shane."
"So who's going to play the baby's father?"
"Now, there's an issue. The father has to have—or be able to pretend very well to have—a certain background. Medical in nature. Dr. Alex Rast, who, with his wife, really was looking for such an adoption, until they became frightened and went underground; eventually surfacing long enough to talk to us about it. The Rasts had known the Marine couple who were murdered. The Rasts always used code names in the dealing, so none of the people in the adoption ring knew his real name, or what he looked like. They only know that he was willing to provide some medical knowledge in exchange for keeping their transaction costs down."
"Do we have anyone with those skills?"
"There's an agent in Norfolk who was a former male nurse, but he's down with a broken leg. So we're going to have to be inventive."
"Inventive? How?" asked Gibbs. "You can't give agents a fast track to medical knowledge."
Again Jenny smiled. Gibbs was starting to become wary of those smiles. "That's why we're going to approach the problem from the other direction," she said, and buzzed her intercom. "Send him in, please, Cynthia."
A moment later a nonplussed Jimmy Palmer entered the room.
"Oh, no, Jen," said Gibbs.
- - - - -
Back to Saturday…
The meeting with the so-far-nameless representative of the baby smuggling ring should go off without a hitch. Another good agent, Yancey, would be there acting as undercover backup.
Any doubts the team might have had about Jimmy's acting abilities had long faded. He seemed like a natural father. "There's so much we don't know about our Autopsy gremlin," said Tony.
"If you're asking 'do I think he has a secret family stashed away somewhere', the answer's no." said Tim. "I know he's had some pediatrics training in medical school; maybe that's it."
Ziva relayed the action on the radio to them. "Palmer's bringing the ice cream now," she murmured. "I am sitting at a table with Baby Ike. I see Agent Yancey about 20 feet away. He sees us."
"What kind of ice cream?" Tony asked, and had to endure a Gibbs slap for that.
"Never mind that," he said into his mike. "What do you see?"
"Here you go, sweetheart," they heard Jimmy say to Ziva. "And I brought an extra spoon in case Ike wants to try some. Do you want some, my little man?"
They heard the baby gurgle, followed by a string of soft na-na-na-na-na-na babbling. "Would you like a little sherbet, Ike?" said Ziva. Cooing noises, followed by Jimmy saying proudly, "That's my boy."
"Do you see the suspects, Ziva?" Gibbs demanded on the phone line.
"Yes, I think he just entered the shop. I am wearing the red scarf, as was pre-arranged; he should approach us soon."
"We should have rigged a camera," Tim lamented, and looked like he was going to continue his criticisms, but held himself back.
"We shouldn't have let Palmer be part of this operation," Tony said more harshly. "He is not, nor will he ever be, an agent. He's our weak link."
"Yancey has a camera, and Palmer will do fine," Gibbs said, trying to sound like he believed that.
"He's coming this way," they heard Jimmy say softly to them. "About 6'3", 180 lbs…"
"You are Base and Ball?"
Tim increased the volume to pick up the voice better.
"I'm Base," said Jimmy. "And this is our son, Bat Boy."
"How clever. I am Creydel."
In the van, Tim hurriedly tapped at the computer. "No match under that name…"
"How's he spelling it?" Tony mused. "K-r-a-y-d-e-l? C-r-e-i-d-l-e?"
"Trying all homophonic possibilities…Duh!"
"What is it, McGee?"
"Sometimes the obvious answer is the one. We're talking about babies? The system found documents on a suspected smuggler known only as 'Cradle'. C-r-a-d-l-e-. It says, hmmm… he's turned up mostly on the West Coast, but was believed to be extending his operation. No picture of him…"
Gibbs spoke again into his mike, on another channel. "Yancy. Get a picture of him." Then he leaned back to listen to Tim again.
"…believed to be a significant ringleader…never arrested; well of course not. There'd be a picture if he had been. No fingerprints, no description. Just like a shadow. There are doubts that he even exists. He makes his money from the people he delivers the babies to, but there are hints of another, even darker, business he has."
"What is it?" asked Gibbs.
Tony, who'd been continuing to listen to the conversation in the ice cream shop, interrupted him with a nudge.
"I need a sign of your good faith," said Cradle.
"We have money," Ziva said in the low tone all three had been using. "Hand me the diaper bag…dear," she added, remembering Gibbs' command.
"Not money. Not yet," said Cradle. "Doctor…Base, I need your services. Come with me. Ms. Ball, you can return home and wait for a phone call."
Tony's and Tim's sigs were in their hands. "Should we move in, boss?" Tony asked grimly.
Gibbs, too, was concerned. "Not just yet. Let's see if they can talk their way out of this."
It all depended on Ziva. She was trained; Jimmy was not. They could only hope that he would stay quiet and let her save him.