Chapter Text
Tony walked into the bullpen, swinging his bag and whistling. He smiled at Ziva as he sat down at his desk. “Good morning, Ziva.”
“Good morning, Tony.” Ziva replied curtly.
That’s when Tony noticed that McGee wasn’t there. “Hey, where’s McGoo?”
Ziva glanced over at McGee’s desk. “I don’t know, he hasn’t come in today yet.”
“Perhaps the probie finally got himself laid,” Tony mused, rubbing his hands together.
Ziva sighed. “Must your mind always go to sex?”
“Come on, you know probie needs to get himself some action,” Tony replied cheerfully. “I wonder what she looks like.”
“Maybe you should be wondering about your paperwork, DiNozzo.” Gibbs said, walking into the bullpen, signature coffee in his hand.
Tony scrambled from where he’d been relaxing, sitting up straight and pulling some papers in front of him. “Of course, boss, just about to start.”
Ziva snickered. Tony glared at her before he actually started to work.
A half hour later, Gibbs looked up from where he’d been doing his paperwork. “Where’s McGee?”
“Haven’t seen him all day, boss.” Tony replied, happy for the chance to stop working, if only temporarily.
Gibbs frowned. “Has he called in sick?”
Tony and Ziva simultaneously checked their phones. “No,” Ziva said, while Tony shook his head.
Gibbs’ frown deepened. “Email?” he asked.
Both agents checked their email. “No, nothing.” Tony said.
If possible, Gibbs’ frown deepened even more. “David, DiNozzo, go check out his apartment.”
“Gut feeling, boss?” Tony asked.
Gibbs’ nod was all they needed to leave the bullpen.
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The first sign that something was wrong was hearing Jethro the dog bark from two flights down. Tony frowned down at Ziva, and continued climbing the stairs, a bit faster this time.
When they got to McGee’s door, Ziva held her hand out to stop Tony. “Look,” she hissed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“The door is open. McGee never leaves his front door open.”
“Maybe he was in a hurry last night,” He suggested, but he put his hand on his gun anyway.
Ziva slowly opened the door, glancing around before stopping. “Tony, look!” She hissed, moving aside to let him look.
The first thing Tony noticed was that the TV was still on, which was strange, as McGee didn’t like to have the TV on as background noise. The second thing Tony noticed was the body on the floor.
The body was crumpled, definitely unconscious. The man had brown hair that went slightly past his shoulders. He was definitely tall and lanky. He was wearing what looked to be a pair of pajamas. A pile of blood pooled near his head.
Tony drew his gun. “You clear the area, I’ll check the body.”
Ziva nodded, her gun already out. At the silent count of three, the two burst into the room, Tony beelining for the body on the floor.
He put his hand to the man’s neck, taking his pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt a pulse. Next, he assessed the man’s wounds. He’d been hit in the head with a blunt object.
Ziva came back into the main room. “Place is clear, no one here besides him,” she nodded to the man, “and Jethro the dog. He’s been put in his kennel.”
Tony frowned. Despite McGee’s initial conflict with the dog, he loved Jethro and never kenneled him unless he was at work. “Call 9-1-1, the man’s alive, he’ll need an ambulance. Also, call Gibbs. Something definitely is going on here.”
As Ziva made the calls, Tony looked around. He saw a bloody statue on the floor, most likely the man had been hit in the head with it. A messenger bag that definitely wasn’t McGee’s was hanging off one of McGee’s bar stools. Tony stood up and rummaged through it.
“Ziva, I found identification.” He called to Ziva, who was just getting off the phone with Gibbs. He looked down at the I.D. and frowned. It was an FBI badge. “Dr. Spencer Reid with the BAU. Huh.”
Before they could process that information, the medics arrived. Tony and Ziva watched as the medics put the man―Dr. Reid, Tony reminded himself―on a stretcher and carried him away. Just as the medics left, Gibbs arrived.
“What’s going on?!” He demanded, turning to his agents for information.
“When we got here, the door was cracked open, the TV on, Jethro in the kennel, and the man of the floor. No one else was here. The man is still alive, and according to this,” Tony held out the badge. “He’s an FBI agent. A Dr. Spencer Reid. With the BAU, whatever that is.”
“Behavioral Analysis Unit. Any sign of McGee?”
“No, boss. Dr. Reid was the only one here.”
They stood there for a moment, silent. Gibbs sighed. “Treat this as you would any other crime scene. Something went down here and I’m determined to find out what.”
“Uh, boss, Ziva and I will need the truck―”
“Then get it. Make it quick. I need to make a phone call.”
As Tony and Ziva left, Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number he had wished to never dial again.
“Agent Gibbs, it’s so nice to hear from you again.” Erin Strauss said.
Gibbs cut straight to the point. “One of you agents was attacked in the home of one of my agents.”
He could practically hear Strauss straightening in her seat. “Who?” She asked, tone all business like.
“Dr. Spencer Reid.”
He heard Strauss curse under her breath. “He’s one of our best. His team isn’t going to be happy to hear that.”
“Can you hold them off long enough for us the interview him when he wakes?”
“I can do my best.”
Gibbs hung up the phone and glanced around. Something had happened to one of his agents, and he wasn’t going to rest until he finds out who did it.