A/N - No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. I have, however, been quite sick and my computer managed to fry itself. It's under warranty and going in for repairs soon, but I did lose everything that I had. Most of it was backed up, except for the most current chapters that I was working on. While the computer was having problems, all I bothered to reload on it were the stories for the Christmas exchanges, since they had such a hard and fast deadline. I'm going to post those, starting now. This one is nine chapters, I'll post one a day. As soon as the repairs are done and I get my laptop back, I'll start rewriting the last chapter of Puppet Master. I might start even sooner if I can come up with a full sized keyboard for my netbook. Uploading files is one thing, writing on that tiny little keyboard is quite another.

A Bite of the Past

Tony tapped his foot impatiently as he fiddled with an already finished report, trying to look busy while he waited for an IM from Palmer. The three of them had decided that Palmer would be the contact point, as Gibbs would be too aware of any phone calls DiNozzo received, but the wait was killing him. Finally he had to ask and pulled the IM program to the top of his screen.

Any word yet?

He quickly muted the sound so Gibbs wouldn't hear the distinctive ding when a returning message arrived. It was just in time, as Palmer answered quickly, apparently also anxious.

Not yet, I promise I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything.

Sighing, Tony returned to pretending to work on his report, thinking back to exactly how he'd gotten talked into covering for McGee in the first place.

Monday

The slamming of the phone startled the occupants of the squad room. Two head popped up from where they'd been studying a printout. "Ziva, you and I are going to re-interview the neighbor." Gibbs stood, pulling on his coat. "DiNozzo, you keep on the phone records by yourself. McGee can help you when he gets finished with Taylor's computer."

Ziva frowned at the request. "Gibbs, we have interviewed her three times already. What more information do you expect to get from her?" It was Tony that answered, with a grin.

"The good widow Johnson is on a manhunt of her own, Ziva. You're going along to protect the boss's virtue."

Gibbs gave a shrug as he bit back a smile. "Just keep her on track, Ziva."

As she stood, Ziva leaned over to whisper in Tony's ear. "Mrs. Johnson is at least ninety-five. She wouldn't know what to do with him if she caught him." The raised eyebrow and pointed look told them that Gibbs had heard exactly what she said.

Tony had their corner of the squad room all to himself for less than a minute before McGee's desk phone rang. Grinning, he caught it before it could go to voice mail. "Agent McGee's desk."

~Is Agent McGee available?~

"Not at the moment, may I take a message?" Tony grinned even wider. Whoever she was, she sounded pretty. As a DiNozzo, he considered himself an expert on the subject.

~I'm just confirming his check in time for Thursday and we will see him then.~

DiNozzo's grin widened yet again. McGee had been very secretive about his vacation plans, and this little nugget of information could not be ignored. He wrote down the phone number from the display on McGee's phone before moving to his own desk to check the reverse directory. Since McGee was taking the two weeks before Christmas, he was assuming that the young man was going to spend some time snuggled up with a snow-bunny at a ski lodge somewhere and he wanted to know which one.

Tony was still staring at his findings when the elevator chimed and the doors opened to reveal McGee. Closing out the window, DiNozzo was up and across the room before McGee was completely out of the elevator, pushing him back in and slamming his hand on the button. The elevator had barely started to move before Tony flipped the emergency stop.

"Tony, what?"

"So, tell me, McGoo, since when did Bethesda become a destination resort?"

"How did you...?"

"Doesn't matter how I found out." Tony was pacing in the small metal box. "What matters is that you lied to us about it."

McGee dropped his chin to his chest for a moment before straightening up. "I didn't lie, Tony. My scheduled vacation starts at the end of the workday on Wednesday."

"And you'd rather use your vacation than your medical leave?"

"Well, I'd hoped to have some privacy."

Tony glanced up and down McGee, thinking about what medical condition would elicit such a desire for privacy in another man. "God, Probie, you didn't find a lump, did you?"

"What? No." Sighing, McGee gave in, knowing that Tony wasn't going to let it go. "The scar tissue in my arm is putting pressure on the nerves." He rubbed his left arm as he felt the phantom teeth once again bite down on his flesh. DiNozzo saw the movement and pieced together the memories.

"From the dog? After all this time, it's causing you problems now?"

"It's always caused me problems, Tony, but it wasn't too bad until a couple of months ago when that suspect freaked out in interrogation and grabbed my arm. Now it's not an option, I need to have the surgery to keep the use of my hand."

"Why didn't you say something then?" Tony remembered the case, Gormley, a muscle-bound Marine had been accused of stealing ammo from the rife range at Quantico. His addiction to drugs had become evident only a few minutes into the interview when he'd thrown a chair at Gibbs and dragged McGee across the table. Tony winced as the memories became clear. "You did complain about your arm and we just blew it off. Abby got mad about you still blaming Jethro and Gibbs sent you down to Ducky to stop her from ranting about it."

"Yeah, and Ducky had Jimmy drive me to the hospital." McGee reached past Tony and turned the elevator back on while he continued to explain. "It tore up the internal scarring that had never healed right and now it's a lot worse."

Sometimes Tony remembered too much from his degree in Phys Ed. "So now there's a lump of scar tissue that's putting pressure on the main nerve that goes down into your hand?" Tim silently nodded. "Man, there's a good chance of damaging the nerve if the doctor doesn't know what he's doing."

The doors opened and Tim stepped around the Senior Agent to return to his desk. "Yeah, I know, Tony." The other man wasn't willing to let it go quite yet.

"What if we get a big case this week and Gibbs cancels your vacation?"

Tim looked around, but their teammates were still not back. "Vance knows. He's bringing in a TAD to cover for me while I'm out, and longer if necessary."

Tony leaned over McGee's desk, hissing. "You went to Vance and not Gibbs? Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm practical, rule number eighteen."

"Better to ask forgiveness than permission? Do you honestly think Gibbs would object to you having a necessary operation? Try this one on for size: rule fifteen: always work as a team." Waiting for an answer, he perched on the corner of McGee's desk.

"Well, yeah, but there's... Abby."

"Abby? You don't want our Mistress of the Dark taking care of you? Just because she's attached to the dog that attacked you... what is going to happen to the dog while you're laid up, anyway?"

"Jethro is happily romping in a two acre yard with his new owner, and has been for months."

"Wow, does Abby know?"

Tim was hitting the keys a little harder than necessary. "I'm still alive."

"Wait a minute, how does she not know?"

Still upset by the answer he'd been given and not knowing how to fix the problem, Tony shook his head and returned to pretending that he was studiously working on the file up on his computer.

Gibbs frowned as he watched DiNozzo. McGee had been on vacation for just a few hours and already the other man was distracted. Things had been tense in the squad room the last few days, but Gibbs had chalked it up to DiNozzo being jealous of McGee getting vacation time. December was a popular time and most requests had been denied. Gibbs, himself, had been a little put out that McGee was granted the time off. As a single man with no children and no passion for skiing, he'd had no reason to take the coveted vacation slot.

Tony scrolled through the pages, not even seeing them, as he thought about Abby. He loved her like a sister, but right now he would like to shake some sense into her. After his conversation with McGee, he'd found himself tasked with driving her to the courthouse to testify the next day. Her part of the trial had only lasted an hour, but the noontime traffic on the way back had given them plenty of time to talk.

Tuesday

"So, Abby, you spending a lot of time with Timmy and Jethro?"

She looked surprised at the question. "You know how busy we are, Tony. Besides, Spike doesn't like dogs very much."

"Spike?"

"My boyfriend." When Tony didn't seem to recognize the name, she rolled her eyes and told more about him. "He's the lead singer for Dead Zombies."

He couldn't let that one slide. "By definition, aren't all zombies dead?" Tony had just enough time to tighten the muscles in his arm before she punched him.

"Tony!"

"Sorry, Abs, I was just surprised that you'd date a guy that didn't like dogs." When she just shrugged, he kept going. "So how long have you been dating... Spike?"

"What are you all of a sudden, my father?" Another eye roll, "we've been dating for six weeks and no, you're not going to start running a background check on him."

"Do I need to?" Tony quieted as he squeezed the sedan past a truck to turn onto a lesser used side street. "No, I was just wondering why you weren't hanging around with McGee and the dog. I thought you practically had joint custody of the mutt."

If he was showing his disappointment, she wasn't picking up on it. "I don't need to be with them to take care of Jethro. I tell McGee what he needs and what to buy for him. After all, I picked out the doggie day care for him and I send McGee lists of toys and things he needs. It's McGee's responsibility to take care of him, not mine."

Tony thought about reminding her that it was a responsibility that she'd forced on him, but decided it would only make trouble for the other man.

Finding himself at the last page of the file without having read a single word, Tony scrolled back up to try again but an IM from Palmer stopped him.

In recovery, too early to tell if successful.

The wave of relief was quickly flattened by a countering wave of anger at the thought of his Probie waking up alone in the hospital. He stood, shoving his chair back with more force than necessary. Gibbs looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

"Problem, DiNozzo?"

"Just need to stretch my legs, Boss."

"Go." Gibbs waved him towards the door. With any luck, he'd be in a better mood when he got back. Tony didn't look a gift horse in the mouth as he headed straight for Autopsy.

Down in Autopsy, Ducky was also becoming annoyed. "Mr. Palmer, if you were so worried about your friend, perhaps you should have taken the day off."

"Sorry, Dr. Mallard, I just wanted to make sure his surgery went all right. I'll wait and take my day off when he's released from the hospital." He saw DiNozzo hovering just outside the doorway. "Do you mind if I..."

Ducky glanced up from the paperwork he was slogging through and saw Palmer edging towards the doorway. He gave a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fine, Mr. Palmer, take your break, but I expect some work out of you when you return." The Medical Examiner shook his head as his assistant scrambled out of the room.

Tony herded Palmer down the hallway to the back stairs, not slowing down until they were on the other side of the heavy fire door. "What do you mean they don't know if it worked? How could they not know?"

"The nerve block is still in place, it's designed to last while he heals." Palmer had researched extensively until he was comfortable understanding the differences between the different types of nerve blocks since he couldn't ask Ducky too many questions without raising suspicions. "They don't want him moving his arm too soon, even in his sleep."

"Yeah, I know. I just wish that one of us was down there with him." Tony stopped pacing and leaned against the wall. "Heck, I hate the fact that he feels like he had to sneak around to do this."

Palmer leaned against the opposite wall. "Do you have any idea how to fix it?"

"You mean make Abby grow up, convince Gibbs to stop playing favorites and give McGee the ability to stand up to them both? Haven't a clue." He slumped further against the wall, Jimmy again mirroring his action.

"Me either. He just seemed so depressed this morning when I drove him to Bethesda." Palmer's phone rang, stopping anything else he would have said. He looked at the display in surprise. "It's McGee." In his haste to answer the call, Jimmy almost dropped the phone. "McGee? Hey, man, I didn't expect you to be up to calling for a few hours... wait... slow down... who was killed? What did you see?"

Tony didn't wait for Palmer to explain, instead he took the phone. "McGee, talk to me."

~I saw her do it, Tony, but I couldn't stop her.~

"Who, Tim, who did you see?" Tony fought back his rising panic. McGee sounded lost and terrified. Before there was any answer, he could hear the sounds of a scuffle and then McGee's faint voice.

~Tony, help me!~

McGee's voice faded as if he was moving away from the phone before a different voice spoke. It was female and Tony was sure he'd never heard her before.

~He's going back to sleep and when he wakes up he won't remember this silly nightmare, nothing to worry about.~

The call was disconnected before Tony could question her. Instead, he turned to Palmer. "What could they have given him that would cause that kind of hallucination?"

Jimmy was shaking his head as he thought. "Nothing, at least not in a normal dosage. He's in trouble, isn't he? What do we do?"

"An agent reported a possible murder, that's good enough for me."