McGee had gone straight from the director's office to Abby's lab. He needed time to think, to process and that wasn't something he could do at his desk with…the others. He didn't quite know what to call them at the moment. Technically, they weren't his teammates, Gibbs wasn't his boss but… He definitely needed the quirky logic of Abby's lab. Plus someone needed to tell Abby what was happening and he couldn't see any of the others able to do it.

When the doors opened, he stepped out and stood between the elevator and the lab. Like the highly sensitive person she was, Abby had taken news of Jenny Shepard's death almost as hard as she'd taken Kate's death. Had the director been killed earlier in her stint the reaction would have been odd since Abby had not accepted the woman as the boss until recently. Tim sighed and stepped towards the automatic doors. There were far too many changes currently happening in their little world. He was confused and upset by the reassignment but also a bit challenged. The new director was far more tech-savvy then McGee had ever thought and he considered the reassignment to be an acknowledgement of his skills. Two sides were at war within him – excitement over the new assignment and sadness at the loss of teammates who he also considered friends, and writing inspiration but he wouldn't admit to that out loud. Abby – she would see the new developments as nothing but a loss. McGee knew he didn't want to see her reaction but couldn't put it off any longer.

The lab was quiet – never a good sign. Even after they lost Kate there had been music. Though 'music' wasn't exactly what he'd call the sad near-funeral dirge that had played for days. Then again there were days when McGee could barely handle Abby's normal music. So maybe silence was better in this case. Not seeing the dark-haired forensic scientist was definitely not better though.

"Abby?"

"I'm right here, McGee."

Tim turned in the direction of her too-subdued voice and stared. Abby's hair was still down and she had not changed from the subdued clothing she had worn to the memorial service. She had not even bothered to don her customary, long, white lab coat. He glanced quickly around at the many computer monitors. Phew – at least she had turned them all on, although none seemed to be running any of the multiple searches and forensic programs that were usually running whenever he down here with her. Neither was there a picture of the director all over each monitor the way there had been when Gibbs had resigned. Although important, those facts didn't change how hard it would be to tell Abby about the upcoming changes to the team.

****

Gibbs, Ziva and Tony headed back to the bullpen area of the office towards their own section. Gibbs tossed the files he'd received from Vance onto his desk, sat down and stared, trying to look anywhere but at the flat screen that was, again, projecting ZNN's story about the townhouse fire. Ziva opened a drawer to her desk and withdrew a large bag to begin packing. Tony stopped at his desk but didn't sit down. He wasn't sure what to think or do. Did he start packing? Did he wait to see if Gibbs was going to stop their transfers?

Gibbs… Tony couldn't bring himself to turn and look at him. They'd had scant time together since before the trip to California and no time alone at all since Jenny's death. One of the hardest things he'd ever done was to tell Gibbs about Jenny's death. When her phone had rung and he'd seen those five letters on the caller id, he'd wanted so badly to not answer it or hand it off to Ziva. But he was Gibbs' senior field agent; it was his job. His duty really because of what they meant to each other. Telling Gibbs Jenny was dead was arguably one of the hardest things he'd ever done. It ranked right up there with knowing Gibbs was aware of Jeanne but still going to her each night. He pushed thoughts of the woman from his mind. It had taken him months to accept Gibbs' knowledge of his relationship with her. After the whole debacle was over, it had been weeks before things had seemed to be returning to normal between the two men.

Now he didn't know what would happen. He'd managed to look at Gibbs a couple of times in LA. Gibbs had said little that wasn't case-related but Tony shuddered at the grief he saw and continued to see etched on the older man's face. They needed time to talk but hadn't yet found even a spare minute to be alone – even now days after the death. Tony looked down at the papers on his desk, knowing without reading that they were his orders and travel arrangements to get him to the USS Ronald Reagan along with a minimal amount of information regarding the ship, crew and its current deployment.

He fingered the papers seeing but not really comprehending the dates. He knew he didn't have much time to pack both his desk and apartment. He didn't want to go, didn't want any of them to, but couldn't see a way around it. He glanced up as he heard a drawer shut. Ziva was done already? He stared at the Israeli who seemed always in control of herself as she approached the front of his desk.

"Well Tony, it appears that this is goodbye."

He shook his head. "Something will change, Ziva. The Boss isn't going to let this be."

"You may be right but at least, for now, I do not believe that he is in the position nor has the will to fight any of this. He is…all mashed up inside."

For once, Tony didn't bother to correct her.

"Anyway, I have much to do if I am to return to Tel Aviv and…" She moved over to the side of the desk and put out her hand. "It has been…interesting, Tony."

He took the hand in his, remembering how the smallness of it had surprised him when they met. Now its strength was what got his attention. He pulled her close into a familial hug.

"Ziva," They pulled away. "Whenever I watch Moses, I'll think of you."

"Ah, yes, and whenever I see a Bond movie…"

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. McGee and Abby walking into the office area stopping the exchange between the two. Abby looked around and realized that what McGee had said was happening. She threw her arms around the other woman.

"I'm sorry I didn't like you in the beginning, and that I was mean to you when Gibbs left and…"

Ziva extracted herself from the bear hug. "It is all right, Abby. I will miss you as well." Then she turned. "Tim, good luck."

"Ziva."

"Leaving already, my dear?"

The small group turned to see Ducky and a not too surprisingly silent Gibbs standing there.

"I have much to do, Doctor." She walked over and gave the older gentleman a careful hug, which he returned. "I will miss your stories, Ducky."

"I will look forward to hearing yours on your return, Ziva."

She moved her attention to the man who had been her boss for three years. "Gibbs."

Reaching over he took the bag from her shoulder and motioned her ahead of him. Ziva moved past McGee's still pale face, Tony's closed off expression and Abby's tears towards the elevator. Neither person said a word as they stepped into the waiting car and watched the doors close. Ziva watched as Gibbs' fingers reached over and engaged the emergency stop switch.

"Ziva…" He stopped as he realized he really didn't know what to say to her. A somewhat foreign experience as he was used to always being the one who they counted on. Ziva was the one who had called him to protect her when he had been in Mexico, the one who had initially helped restore his memory after he woke from the coma. Now he just didn't know what to say to make everything all better for her.

"Gibbs, I do not know where I will be after Tel Aviv, but I know I will always remember you and I will never forget all you have taught me."

She leaned forward hesitantly giving the normally stern man a brief hug before turning and flipping the elevator switch. Just before the doors slid soundlessly open, she turned to him again. "Shalom, Gibbs."

As she turned to exit the car, she heard his whispered reply. "Shalom, Ziva, for now."

***

Tim, Tony and Ducky remained still and somewhat quiet once Gibbs and Ziva had left the area. Neither of the two younger men had any desire to begin packing up their desks even though, logically, Tony knew that he should at least look at the paperwork he'd gotten to see when he needed to leave. He knew he had at least one long flight ahead of him and probably more depending on the connections and exactly how far out the ship was. The USS Reagan had sailed on the 19th for it's newest task in the western waters. Tony doubted that he would know exactly where he was headed until he was almost ready to reach the ship. McGee was silently thankful that he would not have far to go for his new duties. Although for some odd reason, he was no longer as excited about the prospect of spending the majority of his time developing and running computer searches and programs to trap the modern criminal.

Abby was a myriad of emotions that came pouring out in one long, staccato outburst. "Wait! She's just leaving…and you two are standing there like…like." She threw her hands in the air, pacing aimlessly as she spoke. "Well, I don't what like. Mops, maybe? What? Are you two going to pack too? Just leave me…us? Without a fight? Without doing something to stop this? We can't just let this happen. No! We must mobilize and…and fight the establishment! Yeah! That's it! That's what we need to do!"

So worked up was she that Abby never saw Gibbs return to the area until she whirled around in mid-tirade and nearly ran him over. "Umpf! Gibbs! Good, you're back! Now we can get something done! You'll get us organized and come up with a plan and…."

Her voice trailed off as Gibbs quietly put two fingers to her lips, silencing the younger woman. Gibbs looked over at the two younger men but didn't speak to them and he didn't meet either of their eyes. Tony, he could hardly even look at. At the moment it was just too much. There had never been anything calm about DiNozzo – not from the moment Gibbs had met him in Baltimore. It had seemed as if an odd sort of kinetic energy enveloped the man, movement – a twitch or something – personified his personality. Except for now. He'd been too quiet since Jen had died, offering a few observations with almost none of his normal quirkiness. Since being called up to the director's office, his body had been virtually still. Gibbs thought he knew at least some of what was going on in that stubborn man but hadn't had the time to figure it all out at first and now he found he did not have the emotional energy he needed to deal with the man who had started out as his agent, became a friend as well and then so much more.

Tony, for his part, did not want to examine Gibbs' expression too closely. Since the older man's arrival in California, he had felt convicted of not being able to save the director. Even though Gibbs had never said the words and had in fact absolved him in Abby's lab, Tony had felt it almost radiating from him. Now as then there was a grief etched in the boss' expression and eyes that made Tony's insides just want to shut down.

Gibbs turned again. "Need to talk to you, Duck – downstairs."

"Certainly, Jethro."

Gibbs grabbed a small stack off his desk and headed off with the medical examiner. McGee, sure of what he probably should be doing but not really wanting to do it, slowly moved over to his desk area. He glanced down at top of his desk, mentally listing the items he thought he'd want to pack up to either take home or with him to his new work area. Tony let out a sigh that seemed to deflate him. The senior field agent had noticed what he was certain the other two had not. The pile Gibbs had grabbed off his desk before heading after Ducky had been the files Director Vance had given him. The files containing information on his new team. Tony wasn't sure what hurt more: Gibbs' silence, his apparent inability to talk to him or his seeming acceptance of the new assignments.

The silence hurt him personally because, since the morning after the night they ended up in bed together, after they agreed that both wanted something more permanent than just a one night stand, they had each promised the other that they would talk about what they were feeling or thinking. It was something that was hard for them both at first then got easier but became difficult again after Gibbs returned from Mexico. Now it was as if Gibbs had closed himself off from Tony and that was nothing more than further proof of his own guilt over Jenny's death. The silent acceptance puzzled Tony on more than the professional level since it was so unlike the man and the agent. Gibbs had respected Tom Morrow but still had not hesitated to pursue a discussion with the former director if he thought Morrow did not have the team's best interests in mind.

Abby stood in the middle whirling back and forth to stare at the two men. The Goth scientist wasn't sure if she wanted to scream or cry. Her world had been tilted on its axis on the verge of spinning wildly out of control and the three men who, in varying degrees, had always meant comfort, stability and even love to her, were all acting like pod people!

"I don't believe this! You guys aren't going to fight this are you?" Her strong irate tone had given way to an almost little girl type voice that Abby rarely used. That it had surfaced now was further proof of her own pain over the recent events.

Tony winced inwardly. The one thing he could never stand was a hurt-sounding Abby. To him, Abby was always the bouncy, slightly annoying but much loved baby sister. The one he could pick on but heaven help anyone else who irritated, or worse, hurt her. With his own emotional state so frazzled and on edge, he couldn't deal with her words or emotions at the moment. The surroundings seemingly closing in on him, he looked down at the sheaf of papers. He'd read them later but for now, he needed to know how much time he had. Fortunately the travel dates were on the top summary sheet. The date stood out in bold print but it took his brain several seconds to process the information. Day after tomorrow he flew out of DC bound for San Diego. He had a little over a day and a half to get everything in his life in order.

"Tony, you aren't leaving, too! I won't let you leave! I'll…I'll handcuff us together until Gibbs knows what to do! Yep, that's it – just until the bossman…"

Abby quieted when Tony walked over to her and pressed his finger to her bottom lip. She stared at him; her large, dark eyes nearly overflowing with unshed tears. Tony moved his hand to cup Abby's neck and drew her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. The two stayed like that for several seconds before he drew away. Abby silently watched as Tony stepped behind his desk to pick up his back up before turning and heading for the elevators without another word. She glanced over at his work area, relieved to see that all of his personal 'stuff' was still there.

****

Bypassing the clinical area of autopsy, the two older men went into the small side office. Gibbs dropped into a chair in front of the desk, letting the folders in his hand fall harmlessly to the floor. Ducky busied himself with several items in his drawer that he found were too necessary at times to not keep on hand. Surreptitiously he eyed his friend. The last couple of days had been hard on all of them but few understood how hard they were on the senior agent. Straightening up, he placed two glasses on top of the desk – each glass containing a small measure of dark amber liquid, too small in Ducky's opinion but then they did need to be mindful of where they were and what was expected of them. Sighing, he sat down heavily in his desk chair, feeling every bit his actual age.

He picked up the glass and swirled the dark liquid, sniffing it as he remembered doing this exact same thing just a short few days ago. He'd waited in the office for Gibbs, Tony and Ziva to return from California. Telling Abby and McGee about Jenny's death had been as rough as hearing Gibbs tell him over the phone. He remembered leaning against the counter and staring at the body bag that had been delivered not long ago. He'd poured himself two glasses and drunk them both before he'd been able to unzip the bag and view her remains. As expected, Gibbs had found his way to autopsy shortly after arriving. Ducky knew he'd be forever thankful that he hadn't started on the required autopsy so that Jennifer's body was still encased in the bag when he'd arrived. Ducky hadn't allowed Gibbs to open the bag then and had repeated the gesture when he'd returned later, steering the senior agent into his office and insisting that they drink a toast to the late director. Gibbs hadn't talked then and Ducky had to wonder if the man really wanted to do so this time or had simply needed an escape from the turmoil in the bullpen.

Gibbs glanced at the glass, not too surprised to find the liquor. "Again, Duck?"

"Drink it or not. The choice is yours, Jethro. Bear in mind though that you've been dealt another shock today by the new director. It might just help ease you through this." Ducky took a sip from his glass before continuing. "Can I ask what was in the folders you brought down here but don't seem to be in a hurry to read?"

"Not going to read them." Gibbs stared into the glass, wanting to drink it but knowing that he needed to maintain a clear head for the time being. Finally he quickly tossed the drink back, clearing his throat a little over the burn before speaking again. "Didn't want DiNozzo to worry about why I was headed down here."

Gibbs winced internally as he realized what he'd said but avoided looking at the medical examiner not wanting to be more obvious than he'd already been. Ducky glanced away, sensing the other man's sudden hesitancy.

"Yes, it would seem with what's happening that the kids will be a bit more unsettled than they sometimes are. So what exactly is in those files?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "My new team."

"Ahhhh. I was under the impression that perhaps something would be done…"

"Yeah, I know. They all expect me to fix everything for them."

"Well, I do believe you seem to be a superhero. At least to Abigail, that is."

"Yeah, not exactly any phone booths near by now are there?" A brief, wry grin flitted across Gibbs' face before it morphed into a grimace. "Not sure there's much I can do about this, Duck."

"Maybe you should be more concerned with fixing other things now rather than keeping the standard quo."

Gibbs looked up, unsure of where the doctor was headed with the statement. He knew he could think of at least a couple of different directions depending on the person. Did Ducky know of something that Gibbs had worked hard to keep from everyone?

"Abigail is taking this whole reassignment very hard and you know as well as I, that this is only the beginning of her reaction. I half expect to hear that dark dirge music playing, much the way she did with poor Caitlyn. McGee needs to know that this is not the result of anything he did, the poor lad. Ziva –I trust you have taken care of that already when the two of you were in the elevator together. And Anthony needs to understand that this really is a promotion. I mean if you look at the agency roster and organizational charts, one can plainly see that…"

"Duck! I know."

He didn't know or at least wasn't willing to admit to Gibbs that he knew. Jethro knew it could be either. Dr. Mallard played at being an aging medical examiner who was prone to babbling stories of his past adventures whenever he was asked for details but Gibbs had known for years that the man was no one's fool and that there was more to him than most anyone thought. Gibbs had thought a lot over the last year about telling Ducky of the exact nature of his relationship with his senior field agent. He knew Ducky wouldn't condemn them and would understand. There was just this seeming need that Tony had to keep everything as quiet as possible and make sure no one could suspect anything. Gibbs honored that need without argument because he understood it in general even though he didn't agree with it where close friends like Abby and Ducky were concerned.

"Yes, of course, you do, Jethro. But sometimes it still needs to be pointed out verbally and you and I both know how lacking you are in that department."

Gibbs glared but didn't reply and got a small, rather smug grin from the unrepentant coroner.

TBC….