Chapter Text
Chapter One
The first few weeks after Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs resigned from NCIS were strange, almost surreal. His former Senior Field Agent, Anthony DiNozzo, had been formally promoted to Team Leader. Tony had mixed emotions about the whole thing. On one hand, he was extremely grateful and pleased that Gibbs had handed the team over to him, even if it was rather sudden. He suspected the senior agent had handed him the gun and badge in order to make a quick, clean exit. Whether that was the case or not, Tony was determined to live up to Gibbs' expectations.
At first, Tony wasn't sure what was bothering him. He had learned a lot from the former Marine, but he hadn't exactly come to the team as a wet-behind-the-ears probie. The responsibility was overwhelming at first, but it wasn't as if he felt he didn't have what it took to lead the team. They had finally established a comfortable rhythm, working together smoothly without looking around for Gibbs' approval or input. Still, something didn't feel right. Finally Tony realized that he just plain missed Gibbs.
Tony snorted, if Gibbs knew that he'd pop him on the head. But it was true. The team was a team in every sense of the word. They all worked well together and Gibbs was the rudder to the ship, the father-figure, the wise leader. Tony felt as if he had just gotten in sync with his mentor, knowing what he wanted almost before he wanted it. While Gibbs wasn't generous with praise, he made sure his agents knew when he approved of them, when he was pleased with their work, just as he let them know when they screwed up. A steely glare could freeze a subordinate's heart, a small smile and "good job" could make the same agent swell with pride.
Now that Tony was leading the team he had to blaze a new trail. He had already gotten flack for acting like Gibbs, so he wanted to establish his own leadership style. There was no way he could be as forbidding as Gibbs, but that wasn't his style anyway. At first his two teammates, Special Agent Timothy McGee and Officer Ziva David, didn't treat him any differently. They were used to him being the boisterous, fun-loving, almost childish second-in-command. As they worked cases with Tony in the lead they quickly realized what Gibbs had known all along: that Tony was an excellent investigator, with instincts and logic that rivaled Gibbs himself.
Tony also proved himself to be a good leader, listening to his agents' ideas and thoughts, encouraging them to push themselves and praising them on a job well done. He also teased the heck out of them, letting them know that even though he was in charge, he was still one of them. They all missed Gibbs, and no one believed that he was gone for good. At least they wouldn't admit it out loud if they thought he was. Gibbs was like an old warhorse, he wouldn't be able to stay away.
Tony didn't know what would happen when Gibbs came back. He kind of liked the role as Team Leader, but he missed working with Gibbs. He would love to be able to pick the man's brain for information and advice. Plus he missed the head slaps and the sound of his name being yelled across the squad room.
Sighing, Tony turned his mind back to more pressing matters. Their Medical Examiner, Doctor Donald Mallard, had been showing signs of needing a break. Ducky's mother was growing more unstable by the day and he had to hire a full-time nurse to help with her care. There was no way he would ever put the fragile woman in a nursing home, not while there was a breath in his body. Even with the additional help, the devoted son was unable to get a full night's rest. His assistant, Jimmy Palmer, had gained a great deal of experience and confidence at the older man's side and was itching to take charge of an autopsy on his own. Ducky had promised him the next case.
Unfortunately, the next case was their first big one since Gibbs' departure. It turned out to be extremely complicated and Tony began to question the wisdom of allowing the less-experienced Palmer to handle the autopsy on his own.
"Probie," he said loudly, "what have we got on the Walker case?"
McGee had long since given up hope that Tony would stop calling him Probie and had come to accept the nickname for what it was, a twisted term of endearment. He had learned that that was the way Tony showed his approval, even affection, for someone. Tony couldn't stand one of the other team leaders so he called him Special Agent Fullerton during meetings and Special Agent Full of Himself in private, when he was alone with his team. You knew you were in trouble with Tony when he addressed you by title and name. There had already been one heated discussion with "Officer David" that morning. Ziva had strong opinions on their current case and didn't hesitate to argue with Tony.
McGee walked over to Tony's desk, checking his PDA for his notes. "Not much to go on, Boss," he said. "Massive amounts of blood found at the scene; multiple sets of prints, none identified as of yet; evidence of a struggle, and one body, Lieutenant JG Stephen Walker."
Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Have we got a cause of death yet?"
McGee hesitated. "Um, not yet, Tony. Palmer's still working with the body."
"Well," Tony said, exasperation evident in his voice, "does he at least have an idea?"
"I don't know, I haven't seen him recently."
"For crying out loud." Tony rose from his desk and headed to the elevator. "Come on, McGee," he called over his shoulder.
~0~0~0~0~
Autopsy was usually a cold, sterile environment, at least physically. Doctor Mallard always kept a running commentary going as he performed his duties, even when his only audience was the corpse he was working on, his smooth, cultured voice making the room feel warmer somehow.
Ducky wasn't expected in until early afternoon. He had to escort his mother to a doctor's appointment and he wanted to discuss her treatment with her physician. Jimmy Palmer was alone in the room, carefully examining the organs of the recently deceased man. He found the room too quiet without his mentor and had a CD playing in the background.
The doors swooshed open and DiNozzo and McGee strode into the room. "Got a COD for me, Palmer?" Tony said loudly, startling the young man.
"Well, I can tell you that he definitely bled to death," replied Jimmy, turning to face the two agents. "I don't know what the murder weapon was, though, at least not exactly."
"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Tony moved to stand on the other side of the autopsy table, across from Jimmy.
"The wound is very large and jagged." Jimmy pointed to the area in question. "There were traces of a substance on the edges. I took samples and sent them up to Abby. Actually, I took them up to Abby myself, since I'm the ME's assistant and don't have an assistant of my own."
Tony waved his hand in a 'get on with it' motion.
"Whatever the weapon was, it punctured the anterior superior pancreaticoduodenal artery. He bled out within minutes."
"There was so much blood at the scene it was hard to tell what the weapon was," said McGee.
"Yeah, well, now that we know the general shape, we should go over everything again, see if anything matches, plus see what Abby comes up with."
"Tony," Jimmy said hesitantly, "the Director has been down here asking me about the case. She seems quite insistent that I report my findings to her."
"I'll let her know," replied Tony. At Jimmy's questioning look, he continued, "The victim is the son of a Rear Admiral. She's got the brass breathing down her neck on this one. I'll smooth her ruffled feathers."
McGee snickered. "Don't let her hear you say that," he said, "she'll eat you alive."
"Madame Director and I get along just fine," Tony replied confidently. "I let her think she's the boss and she lets me do my thing."
"I am the boss," a gravelly female voice said firmly.
Tony winced, then pasted a smile on his face and turned around. "Director Sheppard, I didn't hear you come in."
"I learned to sneak up on people from Gibbs," she replied.
"I'll have to remember that," Tony said.
"You are right though, Agent DiNozzo," Sheppard said. "I've got people breathing down my neck about this case. How's the investigation going?"
"We've only been on the case for a day, Ma'am," Tony replied, looking annoyed. "I just got the cause of death from Palmer and Sciuto is working on the evidence from the scene."
Jen Sheppard sighed. "Okay, DiNozzo, keep me apprised of the situation."
"Of course, Director."
The Director eyed DiNozzo speculatively. "Tony," she said, her voice putting the younger man on guard, "perhaps you can give the Admiral an update on the case. You've got a way of disarming people, maybe you can get the man to back off a little, give us some breathing space to work on his son's murder."
"I appreciate the thought," replied Tony, pleased with the compliment, "but I don't know if my charm will work on a Rear Admiral. Now, if it were a female officer..."
"Make it work," Sheppard cut him off. "Be ready to report your findings to Admiral Walker at 1400 hours, in my office."
"Yes, Ma'am."
The Director turned and left Autopsy, leaving Tony, McGee and Jimmy to stare after her.
"I don't remember Director Morrow making Gibbs put on a dog-and-pony show for victim's relatives," muttered Tony, "I don't have time to put together a report for someone outside the investigation. I should be investigating."
McGee nodded in agreement.
Giving himself a good shake, Tony turned to the third man in the room. "Good job, Jimmy," he said jovially. "See if you can help Abby identify the murder weapon."
Jimmy beamed at Tony. "Thanks, Tony; I'll get right on that."