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axicallian · 5 days ago

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updated, not finished but abt 30 min into the episode

Human Database [NCIS x Male Reader]- Yankee White 1/2

M/n watched as Tony tried again to the reach their boss over the phone. While he packed his stuff to travel to the crime scene he heard his coworker explain the situation.

"Navy Commander carrying the football on Air Force just carked in the air," He explained into the telephone. A pause before he continued speaking, "Wichita, Kansas, the President's transferring to the back-up bird. M/n booked us on a 1500 United flight on Reagan and that it stops in Dallas, Texas before heading to Wichita." Another pause before he sighs while putting on his jacket, "He booked it not me. If we had our own jet.. Alright," Tony hung up the phone.

"'That's the best you could do?'" M/n guessed with a small smile, as Tony let out a chuckle.

"Word for word," He confirmed, throwing the keys to M/n.

"Nice! I get to drive!" He cheered, gathering his stuff, ready to bolt to the car.

'Attention, passengers. This is a gate change announcement..' sounded throughout the airport, mixing with the messy ambience.

"FBI, CIA, DEA, ATF, even NYPD have private jets," Tony complained, heaving several bags off the escalator.

"Look, 36 cents a mile. You wanna drive?" Gibbs stated simply.

"It's humiliating," He argued, setting his bags down in front of the TSA officer.

"It'd be less humiliating if you had less shit.." M/n grumbled under his breath.

"This isn't all mine. Most of it's for the crime scene," Tony retorted.

"Then why do I only have one bag," the (H/C)nette prodded, sticking his tongue out.

"We're LEOs," Gibbs spoke over his two childish coworkers to the security officer.

"I'm a Capricorn," The officer replied dumbly.

"Are you stupid? LEO is short for law enforcement officer, idiot," M/n said bluntly.

"You new at this Dennis?" Gibbs asked condescendingly while Tony displayed his ID.

"First week," the man confirmed, feeling little to no shame. He read the group's identifications, "'NCIS'? Never heard of it."

"That's embarrassing," M/n commented leaning toward Tony.

"NCIS anything like CSI?" The TSA officer asked genuinely.

"Only if you're dyslexic," Tony replied, struggling to lift his suitcase.

"Or stupid," M/n added while helping his coworker with his bag.

"Okay. You can go ahead and go around the metal detector, but your bags have got to go through the scanner." The officer gestured, ignoring the rude comments.

"Wait a minute, you're letting us take weapons aboard but you want to scan our bags?" Gibbs clarified.

"Well, you've got permits for the weapons but you don't for the bags," Dennis replied simply.

"We really need our own jet," Tony repeated with an 'I-told-you-so' look while he heaved the suitcases up to send through the scanner.

"I second that," M/n groaned, lifting the heaviest bag to the conveyor belt.

Ducky, the Medical Examiner called from the other side of the security checkpoint, "Dennis! Those bags are mine."

"Why didn't you tell me you were schlepping for the Doc?" The TSA officer asked, "He's got a bag permit," he stated obviously.

"Move it, men," Dr. Mallard commanded while Tony and M/n smiled to each other and followed quickly after the older man. "We don't want to miss our flight," Ducky commented, smirking.

The jet was sat on the wet pavement which reflected the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles that surrounded it. An accented voice could be heard from inside the plane, "Uh, I don't give a damn which one of you is boss. You ain't moving this body until the M.E. says you can."

"You talking about me, Elmo?" Ducky asked, entering the plane with Tony, M/n, and Gibbs on his heels.

"Ducky! How'd you like those steaks I air-expressed you?" The owner of the accented voice, Elmo greeted.

"Ah, delicious!" The Doctor replied, removing his jacket and tossing it to Gibbs. He got down onto the floor to start performing an examination while M/n and Tony worked around him, marking the crime scene and helping Ducky.

"Uh, Agent Fornell here is FBI. Agent Todd, Secret Service. Ducky, they've been fighting over this body like two hounds over a t-bone," Elmo introduced the other people who stood watching the dead body which looked like a young man. His skin was now jaundiced and foam stuck to the corner of his mouth.

"Well, it's our t-bone for the moment," Ducky commented humorously.

"All these LEOs are contaminating the potential crime scene," Gibbs informed.

"Oh yes, my assistant's right. Everyone who boarded in Wichita will have to evacuate the plane," The old M.E. confirmed.

"I'm not going anywhere," One of the people in the crowd argued, a balding man who had been introduced as Agent Fornell.

"I flew in on it," The pretty brunette, Agent Todd argued.

"Very well, you two can stay. But everyone else must deplane," Ducky asserted.

"Alright, you heard the M. E. , let's move it boys," Elmo motioned the audience out. "Ducky, what do you think?"

Dr. Mallard examined the deceased body's chest and skin for abrasions or wounds, "No outward sign of trauma," He noted.

"He was stricken after having lunch with the President," Agent Todd explained.

"Yeah, how is the President?" Tony asked, look up from the scene.

"He's fine. His physician cleared him to fly on to L.A." The Secret Service Agent reassured.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked hoping to get more details. Fornell, Gibbs, and Todd stared at each other awkwardly before the brunette started explaining.

"When the Commander returned from lunch, he had an equilibrium problem and his grip was too weak to hold his briefcase," She recalled with detail. The way she spoke caught M/n's attention, sophisticated and professional.

"Did he gradually become ill, or was it sudden?" Ducky interrogated as he stood to face her.

"Sudden. He started to convulse and collapsed. The President's physician believed that the Commander had a stroke," She replied.

"Kinda young for a brain fart," Tony noted, causing M/n to stop taking notes and hold back a giggle from the use of the word 'fart'.

"Looks like a natural death to me, Elmo. They can leave with the body as long as they sign releases," Ducky evaluated.

"Why the hell didn't you say that?" Agent Fornell asked Elmo abrasively.

"Couldn't. Like I said, it's the M.E.'s decision. Release forms are in my car, "The man replied.

"Let's go. We can work out jurisdiction for Washington on the flight to Dallas," Fornell said to Agent Todd. She nods but casts several odd glances at the group around the body before exiting the plane.

"Ah, Ducky... about those soft-shell crabs?" Elmo asked the M.E.

"Ah, you'll have them by the weekend," He replied.

"Ten-four, partner," Elmo agreed before leaving.

Ducky let out an exhale and everyone stared at each other. "Tony, go on. Show the pilot your credentials, get us the hell out of here," Gibbs commanded. Tony nodded and started heading in the wrong direction until M/n grabbed him by the shoulders. He physically turning him around and said, "Wrong way, cockpit's on the top deck."

"I knew that," Tony blatantly lied.

"Enjoy playing my boss?" Gibbs asked after watching Tony's idiocy.

"I did, rather," Ducky nodded.

"You don't actually think he died of natural causes, do you? Only 9% of stroke victims are under the age of 40 and they have a higher chance to survive," M/n regurgitated an article he read once.

"I don't think I have enough information to tell, my dear boy," Dr. Mallard replied. "He could have been born with an aneurysm. They're timebombs in the body. I remember this young promising basso-perfundo in London. He was only 27 when he keeled over, in the middle on an Notaro aria—"

"Who the hell are you people?" Agent Todd stormed back into the plane.

M/n's hand was steady on his gun as soon as he saw Todd's hand on her gun. He was, however, quite proud of her for being so observant.

"You're no M.E. assistant," She declared to Gibbs. "and there's no soft-shell crab within a thousand miles," She states to Ducky.

"Sorry," Ducky shrugged.

"NCIS," Gibbs answered, showing his badge for proof, "We flew down here from Washington to take over the investigation."

"First the FBI tries to muscle in, and now NCIS," She frustratedly mentioned.

"Yeah, well, I do believe this is a dead naval officer," M/n stated simply.

"Who died on Air Force One, after having lunch with the President it's my job to protect," Todd argued.

"Okay, we can share jurisdiction. You can be on my team," Gibbs compromised.

"Your team? Why should you head the investigation?" She continued to argue, not satisfied with the suggestion.

"You've never worked a crime scene, have you, Agent Todd? So why should you run the investigation?" M/n snidely asked.

"I am a Secret Service agent," She stated, avoiding the question.

Gibbs only smirked and turned away from Agent Todd.

"Well don't dismiss me like that! Okay, I earned my jock-strap," She demanded.

"Yeah, does it ever give you that empty feeling?" Gibbs asked turning back and facing her.

"What?" Agent Todd asked dumbly.

"Your jock-strap," He answered, staring condescendingly at her.

"No. Like some species of frogs, I grow what I need," She retorted with a smile while M/n was left slack-jawed at the interaction.

"Gibbs!" Tony called, coming down the stairs and seeing Agent Todd, "Pilot won't take off until the Secret Service chick gives us the.. thumbs up."

"I think that just made it my team," Agent Todd bragged.

"No. It means we'll just have to hijack Air Force One," Gibbs countered, "M/n, escort Agent Todd off this aircraft and close the hatch," he commanded as he turned around, heading for the cockpit. Tony and M/n shared a glance as Todd chased Gibbs up the stairs.

"You're not serious. Wait!" She quickly gave in, seeing as he had no intention of following her orders, "Okay, okay! Your team, but only because I don't want to delay us further by having to shoot you." Agent Todd offered the older man a hand as a sign of obedience and comradery. He gripped the brunette's hand with his own gloved one, casting a smile small toward her.

"Damnit, Agent Todd, let's get this show on the road!" Agent Fornell demanded, ready to board the plane. M/n and Tony heard his incessant yelling and quickly intercepted him.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. We, uh, overbooked the flight," Tony quipped while closing the hatch.

"Hope you'll fly with us again on NCIS Air!" M/n giggled, interpreting a flight attendant.

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was barely audible through the thick metal of the plane.

As the plane pulled away from the ladder the FBI agents were left standing confused at the top. The two chaotic NCIS agent waved at them from inside, wearing cheshire grins.

Ducky, leaned down over the body, gently pushed a metal tool into the victim's abdomen, examining the result.

"Are you starting the autopsy?" Agent Todd asked in surprise as she leaned in one of the airplane seats.

"Goodness, no. I'm just taking his liver temperature to corroborate the time of death," He answered as the chaos duo, M/n and Tony walk into the room.

She stood up, checking her PDA, "The President's physician declared him dead at 20:32 Zulu."

"It never hurts to double check," The doctor says, reading the beeping thermometer.

"You're in the way of the crime scene sketching," M/n said bluntly from Agent Todd's right.

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Sketches? You've taken a dozen photos."

Tony picked up a magazine next to him with a woman in a bikini on it, "Tell me her measurements."

"You're pathetic," She simply answered.

"No, I'm serious," He retorted. M/n finished Tony's thought in a snarky voice, "Can you tell if she's 5'4" in a 35-C, or 5'7" in a 36-D?"

Tony responded, the two agents of chaos going back and forth, pissing off Agent Todd, "You can't, not from a photo. That's why we do sketches, take measurements." He physically nudged her aside sassily as the duo giggled to themselves like high school girls.

"I've got 19:50 Zulu, that's nearly an hour earlier," Ducky states, concern lacing his voice.

"Well, then you miscalculated," Agent Todd stated.

"Nuh-uh. The doc doesn't miscalculate," M/n argued, shaking his head.

Gibbs, jogging down the skinny plane steps and hearing the conversation he interrupted he asked, "What's the problem?"

"There's apparently a discrepancy between my time of death and the President's physician's," Ducky explained, rising to his feet.

"And she think Ducky's wrong," M/n accused, Todd looking back at him slightly offended.

"Log yours," Gibbs ordered, causing M/n and Tony to grin at Agent Todd who only rolled her eyes in response. "Enough sketches, M/n, Tony. Agent Todd's gonna give you both a floor plan," the older man walked off after giving the command.

Agent Todd rushed to follow him, "Oh, no, she won't," she argued.

"Although your photo analysis isn't brilliant, M/n, isn't 36-D a bit of wishful thinking?" Ducky asked, examining the magazine.

"Probably," M/n shrugged.

"Definitely wishful thinking. 36-Ds are like.." Tony put his hands in front of his chest as if measuring breasts, "..big."

"What can you tell me about Commander Trapp?" Gibbs asked while speed-walking down the plane.

"I can't give them Air Force One floor plans, they're top secret," Todd argued while trying to catch up.

"Come on, I saw this in a Harrison Ford movie."

"Well that's Hollywood speculation, you're asking for the real thing," the brunette frustratedly tried to reason while having to keep speed with Gibbs' long strides.

"Isn't the President's head down here someplace?" the man changed the subject as he snooped around the plane.

"No," she answered with frustration.

"Now this was in the movie!" he exclaimed, walking into a conference room and putting his hands on the leather chair at the head of the table, "Yeah! Harrison was sitting right here."

"I can't risk those plans getting out on the Internet," Agent Todd stated, redirecting the conversation to the original topic.

"NCIS does not leak," Gibbs promised, "These plans get out, you can shoot L/n."

"As much as I would love to shoot him, I think I'm obligated to shoot you," she disagreed.

"What about Commander Trapp?" he inquired once again.

"Only met him this morning. He just received his Yankee White clearance and was Major Kerry's backup. The major has the flu," Todd explained

"We'll have to get a Navy doc to verify that," Gibbs popped his head out into the corridor to see that he was back where they started.

"He's got it," she says sarcastically, waving her hands irritably, "But go ahead, and-and waste a doctor's time double-checking like you're Ducky."

Gibbs stops and motions to a cabinet with a keypad, "This is where the terrorists got their weapons in the movie."

"Oh, that is as ridiculous as the President's 'escape capsule'," she sighed as he pressed random buttons on the keypad.

"Anybody switch planes with the President?" he continued to interrogate the Secret Service Agent.

"The President was put on a separate plane. Everyone else boarded the backup excepts three stewards who were put in the press cabin," Todd answered as they approached said press cabin.

"What'd you keep them for?" he opened the curtains and waved at the stewards, "Make coffee?"

"I may not know the finer points of investigating like sticking needles in liver or measuring swimsuit models, but I do know enough to hold the stewards who prepared and served the President's lunch," Agent Todd explained, "You want to question––?"

"No, they're not going anywhere. We've got a crime scene to investigate," Gibbs interrupted, walking back toward the dead body, "Rule number one, never let suspects stay together."

"Well I didn't consider them suspects."

"Why'd you hold them?" he asks while extracting latex gloves from his jacket and handing them to Agent Todd, "Put these on."

"My fingerprints are all over this aircraft," she said, finding it unreasonable to wear gloves now.

"Rule number two, always wear gloves at a crime scene."

The duo stopped in front of the body and Ducky who explained his findings, "I believe I know why there's a discrepancy in the time of death. Now since the Commander had lunch with the President, I'm sure the President's physician rushed to evaluate his condition. He also called Trapp's time of death."

Agent Todd crouched down to assess with the doctor, "Yes, once he was sure the President wasn't in medical danger, he returned and.. he was gone nearly an hour," she recalled, realizing her mistake in accusing the Ducky of miscalculating.

"Yes. I'm sure the autopsy will show that Commander Trapp expired almost immediately,"

"I owe you an apology, Doctor," she declared with sincerity.

"Oh, please, it's Ducky to my associates. I'm just relieved we straightened it out. It's inconsistencies like this to lead to conspiracy theories," He reassured. "It reminds me of a case once in New Orleans. A jealous husband shot his wife off a Mardi Gras float, right out of the clock at the corner of Bourbon Street," Ducky recalled, beginning a story Gibbs knew they didn't have time to listen to.

"Ah, doc, give it a rest. She's got work to do," Gibbs cut the medical examiner off.

"I'll tell you the rest later!" the doctor promised.

"Rule number three, don't believe what you're told. Double-check," he ordered as she followed him to the president's office.

"Should I write these rules in my Palm Pilot, or crochet them on pillows?" Todd asked sarcastically.

When they entered the room they were greeted with the chaos duo, both squished on the president's chair with M/n was sat cross-legged in Tony's lap while the latter twirled the telephone cable around his finger.

"Oh no, I draw the line at them sitting in the President's chair," she declared angrily.

"He's not using it, he'll never know," M/n shrugged.

"Gibbs!" she demanded.

"If you're finished taking pictures, start bagging and tagging," Gibbs commanded.

"Just waiting for you, boss," Tony replied, the duo getting up and grabbing bags to collect the evidence.

"Bagging and tagging what?" Todd asked.

"Well, to start with," he waved his hand at the plated food sitting on the desk, "everything. President was sitting there?" he pointed to the chair M/n and Tony were previously sitting in.

"Pretty good bet, since it is his desk," she answered sassily.

Tony offered an evidence bag to Gibbs who took it and began explaining how to properly 'bag and tag', "Okay, to maintain the chain of custody, take the item – in this case, Commander Trapp's lunch – place it in the evidence bag," he placed the entire plate in the bag, sealed it, and wrote the necessary data, "Seal it, record all pertinent information, initial across the seal."

During the explanation Agent Todd looked pale and distracted, to which M/n took notice to. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, ready for her to spill her guts.. gross.

When Gibbs turned to her saying, "Okay, why don't you try it?" she looks at him nervously before covering her mouth and bolting our of the room with Gibbs hot on her tail, yelling "Oh, wait a minute! Hey, wait! Wait a minute! Whoa! Stop!" Tony jogged after and M/n meandered to keep a safe distance. He could handle blood and whatever but not vomit. He cringed as he watched her spew clear liquid from her mouth into the evidence bag Gibbs was shoving in her face.

"Can I rinse now that you've got your evidence?" she spat irritably

"I don't even blame her, I'd be mad if someone collected my vomit too," M/n commented to Tony.

"Log it. Go find Ducky," the older man ordered as he handed the bag of fluid to DiNozzo while M/n made dramatic, disgusted faces in the background.

"You think she's got whatever killed the commander?" Tony suggested to which Gibbs only shrugged.

"Low temperature. I think it's a stomach virus," Ducky diagnosed, holding the thermometer in front of his face.

"I know it is," Agent Todd, lying across a sofa with a hand on her forehead, replied, "Did you use that thermometer on cadavers?"

"Would you rather I use the liver probe?" the medical examiner joked.

"Why you so sure it was the flu?" Gibbs asked curiously.

Todd sighed before explaining, "It's the same symptoms Major Kerry had."

"Did you work together recently?" Ducky wondered.

"No."

"Well if you didn't work with him, then how—"

"They doinked, doc," M/n stated simply as he walked into the area with a cup of chamomile tea for the sick agent's stomach.

"Did you think I was a virgin?" Agent Todd jested.

"I'd hoped not," Ducky replied, rising from his sat position.

The secret service agent sat up as M/n placed the lukewarm tea at the table near the couch arm. She half-heartedly rolled her eyes at his mischievous yet caring smile. She looks up at Gibbs, "You gonna lecture me about sleeping with people you work with?" she wondered.

The older man scoffed, "no, have you seen M/n and Tony? I ain't stopping them."

"They've slept together?" she inquired.

"Not yet," Gibbs replies with a smug grin.

A voice rang out from the plane intercoms, "Agent Todd, Agent Baer's on a secure line for you."

"Want me to take that call for you?" Gibbs offered.

"I'd have to be dead," she retorted as she heaved her heavy body off the comfortable couch and made her way to the cockpit. The older man's eyes stayed where the sick agent had left; he let a small smile slip onto his face then followed by a light chuckle.

Tony and M/n were back in the president's office, DiNozzo with his ass in the comfortable seat again and the other agent sat on the desk. The two faced one of the stewards that Agent Todd had kept on the plane.

"And how long you been on Air Force One?" Tony inquired, clipboard in hand.

"Five years, sir," the plane employee replied "two with president Clinton, three with president Bush."

He gave a slight look to M/n who gave a small nod, indicating he believed it to be truthful. Gibbs marched into the room and headed straight for the presidential toilet, not caring to give the interrogating duo a glance.

"Well, thank you very much, Chief Steward," Tony dismissed the steward.

"Yes, sir," he gives a small bow before excusing himself and leaving the room.

No longer having to look professional for the interrogation, M/n hopped off the wood desk and swung his legs over the chair arms and plopped into Tony's lap.

"What's you get?" Gibbs questioned from the bathroom.

"Food security is incredibly tight to avoid tampering with the president's food," M/n replied.

"Incognito purchases, randomly selected stores, nobody knows they're buying for Air Force One," Tony elaborated.

Ducky walked in quietly M/n giving a mischievous look before handing the equally mischievous older man the evidence camera.

"Steward usually prepare all the food but today the president had ribs and coleslaw..," Tony paused so he and M/n could pose while Ducky snapped a picture.

"..flown in from aa smokehouse in San Antonio," he continued as two duo and the doctor switched spots so the medical examiner could pose in the president's chair, "so they only reheated 'em and served 'em."

"Anybody else have ribs?" Gibbs inquired.

"Gibbs, if the ribs were poisoned, the president would've been affected," M/n stated.

"Maybe he's used to Papa Joe's Barbeque," he joked, toilet loudly flushing before he opens the door, "if you lot are through taking pictures of each other maybe we can move the body aft." The three looked disappointed before following their boss out the door.

Agent Todd walked down the stair irritably, having been just told off and yelled at by her boss. She stops in her tracks and turns to Gibbs who sat nearby, "Where's the body?"

"I don't know," He replied with exaggerated eyebrows and just as much surprise in his voice.

She gave him an unconvinced look before smiling and giggling at his dramatic performance. The older man let out a small chuckle.

"You move it to the off-ramp for a fast getaway?" Todd suggested with a smirk on her lips.

Gibbs looked around and drank his coffee with no reply but she could imply the answer. Agent Todd threw her jacket over her shoulders saying, "It won't work, Gibbs."

She sighed and slumped down into an airplane seat, "I've been ordered to turn the body over to the FBI at Andrews," she elaborated.

"You could stall them until we get off," Gibbs responded.

"No, I can't. I won't defy a direct order," Todd decided sternly but her voice softened, "I'm sorry, Gibbs."

He shakes his head, "Never say you're sorry." A gentle pause before he joked, "Ah, you don't have to crochet that one."

Kate Todd only smiles in response but it slowly fades. These people, though can be annoying, treated her far better than her current coworkers. Even the chaos duo showed care for her and now she felt as if she was betraying them.

The captain's voice on the intercom cuts though the silence, "Folks, please fasten your seatbelts, we're beginning our descent into Andrews at this time."

Both passengers buckled their seatbelts according to the captain's orders.

The plane landed on the runway where numerous black cars of the different agencies were scatter on the pavement. Gibbs bided farewell to Agent Todd while M/n gave her a big smile and a loud 'goodbye!' from his vehicle.

A black SUV sped down the highway with Agent Fornell and the designated driver inside. The driver glanced at Fornell before asking, "Why'd you let NCIS have the evidence they bagged on the plane?"

the FBI agent replied with a smirk, "Since we have the body we control the investigation. If a few ribs and coleslaw saves some face, what's it hurt? If the food was poisoned the President would-" he was interrupted by a cellphone ring. Fornell gave the driver a look but he said, "Not mine, sir."

Agent Fornell checked his own phone, "Not mine, either." He suspiciously turned to the backseat where the body from the plane was supposed to be and where the ringing was eminating from.

Tony, from inside the body bag, answered the call, "Hello?"

Gibbs spoke through the phone, "We're in the clear, you can get out of the body bag."

The driver abruptly slammed on his breaks in surprise forcing the cars behind them to stop aswell, honking angrily. At the dramatic reaction DiNozzo whispered, "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm not sure I want to."

"Fine. You and M/n still have to search Commander Trapp's apartment tonight," Gibbs reminded.

Tony whined, "Oh, Gibbs, come on! It's 1:00am."

"L/n is trailing you to pick up the body bag when the FBI tosses it," the older man informed.

"That's funny, Gibbs, real funny. Especially since-" Tony's sentence was cut off by a rustle followed my a yelp.

Gibbs hung up and mused from the comfort of his own vehicle, "I guess they found him."

Gibbs sauntered into the medical examiner's room where the Commander's cold, dead body laid on the equally cold metal table. Gerald, the ME assistant, turned to the older man mid-exit with the captain's clothes in tow, "I found Abby, she's on the way in," he reported.

"Yeah, did you wake her up?" Gibbs inquired.

"No, I called her on her cell. Sounded like one phat party," he commented with a deep, smooth voice.

Gibbs and Ducky quirked their brows at each other curiously while Gerald walks into the elevator.

"Find anything Ducky?" Gibbs redirected the conversation.

"Nope, and I won't for hours," Dr. Mallard answered before lifting the stiff arm to examine it with a magnifying glass, "I've just begun examining the body for needle marks."

"You think somebody stuck him?"

"I don't know."

"Anything on the uniform?" Gibbs peered at the flesh alongside the doctor.

"Not that I could see. I've sent it up to Abby."

"What's this?" Gibbs observed a mark on the skin.

"A mole," Ducky replied bluntly, he sighed, "Gibbs, go home. Get some sleep. I would if I could, this is gonna take all night. What's left of it."

Gibbs wandered away, snatching a roll of blue paper towels that he lays at the head of one of the several metal examination tables. He laid himself on the table, blue roll under his head and let out a satisfied groan and deep sigh. He turned on his side, facing away from the medical examiner, "Ducky, why would Abby go to a 'fat' party?"

"Jethro," Ducky smiled and turned off the overhead lights, leaving only the lamp over the Commander's body, "get some sleep."

In Abby's forensic lab the gothic girl is running UV light over Commander Trapp's uniform to spot any unusual substances. The door let out a loud beep before hissing open.

"Abby!" M/n called, running up with pattering footsteps. The two embrace each other excitedly, Abby exclaiming in reply, "M/n!"

Tony walked in after the energetic agent hauling a box of sealing items labeled 'evidence.' "Find anything on his uniform?" he wondered.

"Not yet," she answered after untangling from M/n.

"Well, I have a theory of how he was poisoned," Tony set the box down on the counter and revealed the contents of many bags. "This guy had enough vitamins, herbs, and organic food to open his own health market. If he was poisoned, I think you'll find it laced into one of these."

"So what are you gonna do while I'm finding poison in a health snack?" Abby asked as she began unpacking the bags.

"Wait," M/n answered with a smile.

"There's a futon, by the cabinet over there," she offered.

"Bless you," Tony sighed with a tired smile.

"What are you, my priest?" Abby giggled.

"Curse you?" Tony corrected.

M/n dragged the futon out to the floor, a small blanket resting on top. He gently flopped down on the mattress and Tony walked over and joined him. The two snoozed gently in each other's embrace, tired from the long night.

The next day the agents, including Todd and Fornell were gathered at the NCIS agents' desks with a screen lit up in the middle. The image was a scan of the victim's brain with a small area highlighted in red. Dr Mallard pointed out the spot, noting, "My neural pathology exam indicates that our victim succumbed to a cerebral embolism. Here, in the parietal lobe. I also found a number of clots, most of them centred in the renal artery."

"Is that unusual?" Kate wondered

Oh, not at all," Ducky answered, "In most cases of arterial thrombosis, clots will develop over a period of minutes or hours, spread to the rest of the body."

"But what caused them to develop in a healthy young aviator?" Gibbs inquired.

"Abby?" the M.E. prompted the gothic girl's explanation.

"Well I did a fibrinogen test," she turned the screen to the results of said test, "The procoagulant numbers were high, but they weren't off the charts."

"Any drugs that might induce the clotting?" Agent Fornell wondered.

"Well yeah, but none of those popped up," Abby answered, "I only iso'ed the epinephrine that was injected when he got jolted and juiced on the plane."

"No vitamins? Herbals?" Tony asked.

"All store bought, none of those will kill you, genius," M/n quipped, leaning on the former's desk.

"Yeah, the guy probably whizzed green but it won't cottage cheese your blood," Abby agreed

"Did you test the food that he ingested on Air Force One?" Agent Todd inquired.

"Everything that was bagged and tagged. Ribs, coleslaw, barby sauce... it was all negative for toxins," The forensic scientist replied, "I mean, that stuff will kill ya, but it'll take, like, thirty years. Do you dudes in the Secret Service ever think about throwing yourselves in front of the President's diet?" she joked, making Kate crack a small smile and Gibbs let out a quiet laugh.

"So, you're both saying he wasn't murdered?" Fornell clarified.

"However freakish and tragic, it apparently was a natural death," Ducky confirmed.

"I want my people to check your result," The FBI agent demanded.

"Of course. You and Agent Todd will be receiving copies of all our tests," The M.E. affirmed.

"Does it for me," Fornell conceded before asking Tony, "How's your butt?"

"It's really nice actually, his pants undermine the volume," M/n replied with a sly grin, next to Tony who had an equal grin.

Fornell gave a disgusted face and turned away and left. Kate quirked a brow, surely it was a joke and even if it wasn't surely it wasn't that big of a deal. She slowly turned to leave but Gibbs began tapping on the top of his computer screen with a pack of gum. She rolled her eyes and walked over to him.

"Kate, when's the President returning?" Gibbs wondered as she plucked a stick of gum from the pack.

"Uh, tomorrow. Noon. I'm flying back tonight to rejoin the detail," she answered.

"Mind if I tag along?" The older man asked. Agent Todd thought about it before he added sweetly, "Please?"

"Wow, you got a please outta him," M/n commented from behind her.

"You can," the brunette replied, "Your Sig Sauer can't. We have a rule: no weapons on Air Force One unless they're Secret Service." She watched him put away his weapon and stuck the gum in her mouth. Gibbs swung his coat over his arm and pulled it on before following Kate, whispering to his agents on his way out, "keep looking."

"Wow, he's not gonna tell us 'please'," Abby sighed.

[WIP]

Taglist: @eternal-ems

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