McGee paled as the police officers approached him. He looked past them at the cab driver, who was angrily glaring at him. “I-I really was coming back,” he tried to assure the man as he jumped down from the fountain’s ledge.

“He says he does not have money!” the driver accused.

“It’s alright, Mr. Lightaller,” one of the officers assured him.

“He claimed that this man has his wallet!” Lightaller added, swinging his pointing finger toward Tommy, who continued to rowdily sing his song.

Tim nodded and turned his hopeful eyes on his companion, only to have his jaw drop incredulously as Tommy only shook his head and gave an innocent shrug as he continued his performance.

Tim let out a small nervous chuckle as the police officers stepped closer. It was true, Tommy probably hadn’t taken his wallet--though he hadn’t actually *checked* now that he thought about it. Still, he’d expected his “partner” to back him up! Even if he was just acting the part!

“B-but you can pay for the cab, right?” Tim prompted as one of the officers--Officer Clark according to his name badge--clamped a hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened as Tommy only silently stared back at him, a small smirk adorning his lips. Sensing there was no help to be found from the actor, McGee tried to turn his attention back to the cab driver to offer to drive home and get the money.

“Could you come down off there, please,” the second officer, Jamison, began addressing Tommy, trying to put an end to the spectacle he was creating.

“Do you have any ID, sir?” Clark asked and McGee felt the blood draining from his face as he shook his head slowly.  “Do you want to press charges?”the officer asked Lightaller, who nodded. Clark pulled out his pair of handcuffs.  

“I can explain,” McGee tried to assure, but didn’t resist as the officer placed him in the cuffs, informing him of his rights. “You don’t understand, I left my wallet at home, but I was in a hurry because he had my car and--"

“We’ll straighten it all out back at the precinct,” Clark sardonically assured him. “You got time to come down and file a report?” he queried the cab driver, who nodded. “It’s right across from the Federal Building,” he informed the driver as he started prodding McGee to move toward the waiting police car.

“Wait!” Tommy finally protested, and Tim relaxed. His partner had probably just been trying to make him sweat. It was such a “Tommy” thing to do. Why had he made that character so obnoxious? Still, in true Tommy fashion, he was about to come through.

Except that he didn’t. Instead he walked up and sharply poked Officer Clark. “You can’t take him.”

“And why is that, Sir?” the officer asked testily, glaring down at Tommy’s hand, which was still pressing against his shoulder.

“Because you’ll miss my rrrousing rendition of ‘Officer Krupke’!”

McGee groaned as once again his partner broke into song. The officers were also completely unamused. “Sir, I need you to stop singing,” Jamison addressed Tommy, his voice a forced calm.

“Oh. I’m sorry, would you prefer ‘A policeman's lot is not a happy one’?” Tommy sneered as glanced at McGee and gave him a conspiratorial wink.

“Sir if you don’t stop this, I will arrest you for being a public nuisance.”

The threat only served as a dare, and the wide grin that spread across Tommy’s face made that abundantly obvious.  “Oh, please,” Tommy scoffed. “It’d never stick. My singing is hardly causing substantial harm to anyone. Am I right?” he called out to one of the nearby gawkers. “Now if you were going for Public Disturbance, you might actually have a case.” He pretended to consider, his hands mimicking a scale as he weighed his options for a moment before commenting, “And that’s only a misdemeanor…” He sucked in his breath, but no sooner had he bleated out his first note, Jamison spun him around and slapped cuffs onto his wrists.

McGee paled as he saw the officer remove a gun from a holster under Tommy’s--his--suit jacket. His sig, he realized with horror. “Officer--"

“You keep quiet,” Jamison hissed in his ear.

“B-but, you don’t understand. The gun is--"

“Quiet!”

McGee scowled as he and Tommy were escorted to the waiting police car. He was seriously going to throttle Tommy for this the first chance he got. He knew he shouldn’t be angry, that the man clearly had mental problems, but still! Now he was going to have to call someone to come bail him out, and it would probably have to be Gibbs. Gibbs was the only man he knew who could probably come down to the precinct and not only get him released, but probably keep the charges from actually being processed. Otherwise he’d have a record! Him! A RECORD! And it was totally obvious that Tommy was enjoying the whole thing!

Once they were secured in the back of the car, however, Tommy’s mood abruptly changed and he sobered. “Thank you officers. I couldn’t say anything back there because we needed your escort to get out of there,” he began to explain the situation to the men in the front, who warily exchanged glances. “I’m Special Agent Tommy DeLuca of NCIS--"

Tim’s eyes bulged as he gaped at Tommy. “You can’t lie to the police!” he hissed.

“Oh-ho!” Clark crowed. “You impersonating a Fed, Elvis?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Tommy.

“Of course not, but thank you. Thank you very much, for thinking I could pull that off,” Tommy replied, impersonating The King. “I don’t think I could, though. I mean…my hair is all wrong. And I’d need to add a little padding…well, maybe if I went with a younger Elvis. And oooh! The sequined capes would really--"

“Shut up!” Jamison barked, glaring daggers into the back seat.

“Seriously, though, I’m Special Agen--" Tommy grunted as McGee elbowed him hard in the gut. His brow furrowed as he glanced questioningly at McGee. “What?”

McGee only closed his eyes as he slouched down in the seat a little bit. This was a nightmare…

“Mr. Lightaller,” Tommy called out as he spotted the man waiting for them at the precinct. “Thank you for your patience. As soon as these fine officers release my hands I’d be happy to pay for Agent McGee’s cab fare.”

McGee scowled slightly. “You couldn’t have just done that earlier?” he grumbled.

“Well if you hadn’t called attention to me and gotten those goons on our tail…”

“They probably thought you were stalking Director David. You were stalking Director David!”

Tommy let out a small chuckle as he glanced pointedly at their arresting officers. McGee blanched slightly. “I assure you, I am not a stalker. I’m Special Agent Tommy DeLuca,” he repeated his introduction. “If you want to check, my security badge is in my pocket here. As is my wallet if you would like to give Mr. Lightaller…” he looked to the cabbie. “How much does my partner owe you?”

“$37.80. And that is not charging for all the time I have wasted,” Lightaller grumpily informed him.

“We’ll make it $150 for fare and time lost. That’d save you the additional time filing a complaint, too. Fair?” Tommy reasoned with him and glancing to the officers to see if they were open to the arrangement. Lightaller’s eyes lit as he nodded.

Mc Gee winced as Jamison moved in to retrieve the wallet and badge. How the hell was he going to explain this? He couldn’t believe that Tommy was giving them a false name. A name of one of McGee’s characters; this was all going to come back on him. Again.

“Officer!” he called out. “C-can I talk to you just a moment. In private?”

Jamison scowled slightly but after exchanging glances with Clark, he nodded and led Tim into an interview room. “What?”

“You can’t listen to him,” McGee quietly tried to get the officer’s attention. “He’s…well…he’s a little crazy.” Tim flushed as the officer looked at him pointedly, eyes flicking down once again to his bare feet and silk pajamas. “I-I know this looks bad, but you have to believe me. Agent Tommy DeLuca doesn’t exist.”

Jamison let out an annoyed huff. “Your friend doesn’t exist?”

Tim shook his head. “No, he doesn’t.” At Jamison’s look, he realized how that sounded. “I mean, of course he exists. He just isn’t Agent Tommy DeLuca.”

“Then who is he?”

Tim chewed his lip for a moment, knowing the answer wasn’t going to make the officer happy. “I don’t know--"

“But you know he isn’t Tommy DeLuca.”

“Right.”

“Because…”

“Tommy DeLuca doesn’t exist! I mean he exists, but he’s a fictional character. I created him!”

The officer gaped at him for a moment before getting back up and storming back into the bullpen to check on McGee’s story. Tim brow furrowed as he caught sight of the badge that the officer pulled from Tommy’s pocket. It looked surprisingly authentic.

“You don’t have a drivers’ license?” Jamison asked as he flipped open Tommy’s wallet.

Tommy rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Was undercover, got burned, had to ditch it,” he explained.

Jamison nodded, taking him seriously. Tim’s jaw dropped slightly as he started to protest, but he snapped his mouth shut as Tommy continued. Maybe he should just give the other man enough rope to actually hang himself. Then he’d be their problem.

“Picture’s on the badge there. You can call the security office and verify if you’d like. Wally will vouch for me.”

Tim cocked his head to the side. Wally?  Who the hell was Wally?

“We’ll do that,” Jamison assured him as he plunked down into his chair to look the number up on his computer. “Why don’t you take a seat while you wait for us to confirm.”

“Sure, but why don’t you give Mr. Lightaller his fare so he can be on his way. Oh wait…you can’t touch the money in case some of it should go missing and you get accused of a 2921…bribery,” he clarified at the confused looks he received.

Tim wondered inanely if that was actually the correct code, but Jamison nodded seriously, anyway. He hoped that the officers didn’t think that this was Tommy’s way of offering a bribe. Then again maybe that’s exactly what Tommy was doing, he realized with horror.

His fears were calmed a moment later when Tommy glanced pointedly over at him and made a suggestion. “So, since Mr. Lightaller has kindly decided not to press charges against my partner here, perhaps you could release his cuffs and let him pay the man.”

Clark nodded amiably, and a few moments later Tim felt the cuffs being removed from his wrists. He rubbed them absently, wincing at the slight chafing. He took Tommy’s wallet from the officer to retrieve the money to pay off Lightaller. His eyes widened as he noticed how much cash Tommy was carrying around with him. He quickly counted out the offered amount and handed it to the waiting cabbie, who snatched it glaring at him for a few moments before turning and smiling at Tommy.

McGee rolled his eyes but knew that he probably should say something. “I am sorry about that. I was going to come back as soon as…”

“Not another word out of you!” Jamison barked at him. “I don’t know what your game is--"

“It’s all good now,” Tommy assured, smoothing over the situation as he nodded to Lightaller, who nodded his agreement.

“Thank you, Agent DeLuca.”

McGee’s jaw clenched as the cabbie gave him one last glare before turning to leave the precinct.

“Looks like you’re off the hook, kid,” Clark informed McGee before turning back to Tommy. “There’s still the matter of your Public Disturbance” Clark sounded far more amused than angry this time. Teasing, Tim recognized incredulously. They were actually buying Tommy’s bull! But still, sooner or later they were going to figure out that they’d been had, and they’d be able to trace everything back to him and he’d probably end up getting--

“Yes, this is Officer Shawn Jamison from the 129th Precinct, could you connect me with Wally in Security, please,” he heard Jamison introducing himself to someone on the phone. And now was when it was all going to fall apart, McGee predicted. He knew he should be upset about that, but he actually felt a little bit relieved. After all, the police would have Tommy in custody and really, McGee hadn’t lied to them at all. He’d even tried to warn them! ”Hello, this is Officer Jamison from the 129th Precinct. I’ve got a guy here claiming to be Special Agent DeLuca…” McGee caught himself actually starting to smugly grin until he saw Jamison nod.

What?

“Yeah, Tommy; that’s right…So he does work there? He said you’d be able to vouch for him.” Jamison chuckled a little at the response. “Just to be sure think you could describe him for me?”

Tim gaped incredulously as the officer nodded, apparently agreeing with whatever description he was being given. What the hell was going on? Was he going crazy? Or was it everyone else that was insane?

“All right. Thanks for your help, Wallace…yeah…be sure to give him hell when he gets back to the office. He put on a hell of a show out there. Had me convinced he was a nut job.”

“Looks like you’re free to go, too, DeLuca,” Clark good-naturedly offered as he unlocked Tommy’s cuffs, chuckling and shaking his head. “Had me fooled, too.”

Tim’s blood began to boil just a little bit. This was…so wrong! He felt his jaw throbbing slightly as he tried to stop himself from blurting it all out, that Tommy DeLuca was a fictional character and most definitely was not, no matter how well the man was portraying him, the same Tommy they were all…fawning over!

“Sorry, but you understand--since you don’t have your license or registration with you, I’m not able to release your weapon. We’ll lock it down here, until you bring that down to reclaim it.”

“Not a problem. Hey, think you could get Wally to ask Abby to come pick us up?” Tommy asked Jamison, who nodded and relayed the request to ‘Wally’.

Abby? How the hell did this guy know Abby?!?

And then it hit him.

It was Abby who was behind this whole thing. He’d been totally played! He began to laugh. At first just a stifled little chuckle, but soon it grew into actual giggling, and finally doubled over in a fit of hysterics. Oh, Abby. She was *so* going to pay for this. She must have known Tommy and thought he’d be great for the role in the movie and then set this whole ridiculous “audition” into motion. She’d obviously gotten him the NCIS badge, and probably set up the whole thing with whoever Wally from security was and…Oh, he was going to kill her when she got here to pick them up. At least now he knew Tommy wasn’t really crazy. He was just one of Abby’s weird friends who was willing to go the extra mile to play this prank off for her.

“What’s wrong with your partner?” he heard Clark asking Tommy. He could actually feel tears of laughter forming in his eyes as he saw Tommy making a ‘crazy’ motion with his hand. But the officers both nodded their agreement with the assessment. And how exactly was Tim supposed to convince them otherwise as he stood before them laughing hysterically, almost crying, wearing silk pajamas in public, and claiming that the man they had conclusively identified didn’t exist?

“He’s been under a lot of stress lately,” Tommy explained on his behalf. “You okay there, McGee?”

“I’m…fine. Just great,” Tim managed to choke out as he started getting himself back under control. He knew he should probably explain what was really going on to the officers, but then that might delay them getting out of there. It was best at this point to just play along until Abby came to pick them off.

And then he’d kill her.

Or…perhaps it was his turn to mess with her a little bit. He grinned as he began formulating his revenge.

Ellen DiNozzo was annoyed. Truth be told, she was beyond annoyed. She’d flown out here. Some sort of screw-up had left her stranded at the airport when the agent that was supposed to meet her got somehow otherwise detained. Sacks made arrangements to have a rental waiting for her, but it would have been so much easier if she’d had someone with her to navigate. When she’d finally found her way to the Federal Building, she’d had to answer question after question about Tony that she could easily have just answered over the phone. She could also have faxed a recent picture of her husband to them instead of bringing it all the way out here. Well, she could have if she’d actually had a recent photo of him. She’d actually had to bring one of his school yearbooks. The picture in it was almost a year old, and not really all that great a picture but it was the most recent she could find. She probably should have brought the previous year’s since at least he hadn’t had that hideous beard in that one. Thank God he’d shaved since then…

But she was here. She wouldn’t resent it so much if it at least seemed like she was serving some sort of purpose being here other than to lock heads with the so-called Agent-in-Charge Sacks.

“My husband isn’t a criminal mastermind,” she insisted for the umpteenth time, speaking through grit teeth. “He isn’t the type who would go off and do something like what you seem to think. He’s…Tony. He’s boring. He’s…Mr. Honest-and-Honorable. Did you know he actually wanted to be a cop? He went through the…” she flapped her hand dismissively, “school thing and everything.”

“But he didn’t become an officer?” Sacks prodded.

“No. Could you imagine? Being married to a…” she trailed off as she remembered who she was speaking with. She smiled weakly. “Anyway. He’s not the mastermind sort. He’s a gym teacher,” she added mockingly, proving her point. “Not exactly ‘mastermind’ material, you know?”

Sacks raised an eyebrow at her demeanor. She didn’t really seem all that concerned considering that she disagreed with his personal assessment that Tony DiNozzo had disappeared on his own. She certainly didn’t seem to be grieving at the thought that he had fallen victim to some sort of foul play. In fact she seemed far more irritated than worried.

“Shouldn’t we be out there looking for him or something?”

“And where should we look, Mrs. DiNozzo?”

Ellen glared at Sacks. “If I knew that I would have just told you that and gone to work today. I’m missing an important meeting,” she lamented. It wasn’t until she saw the disapproving look on Sacks’ face that she realized just how callous she sounded. How indifferent she hadn’t even realized she’d felt. Suddenly she wished she could take those last few words back. She wasn’t unfeeling, she really wasn’t. She loved Tony…or at least she used to.

She looked away from Sacks, feeling guilty under the weight of his stare.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love Tony, she began to rationalize her feelings. She did. She adored him. Or…at least she used to, she amended as she really considered it. They hadn’t been happy for a long time, true, but all marriages went through patches like that. Didn’t they? Where things got stale and unexciting. And Tony used to be so exciting. Back before he blew his chance at a football career with that injury. Before he made the stupid decision to waste time with that Police school thing when he could have been getting his masters or maybe pursued a different--more useful--degree of some sort.

“Sorry…I just…I can’t believe this is happening. I didn’t even want him to come to this stupid book thing. And then the way he hung up on me yesterday…”

“You were fighting?”

Ellen nodded reluctantly. “I didn’t want him coming here without me, but I couldn’t take time off from work,” she explained feeling even more guilt-ridden as she considered how hard Tony had tried to convince her to come with him. And Lymon probably would have let her take a few days before they really had to buckle down on the Dempsey account.

When Sacks’ phone began to ring, he gave her an apologetic smile. “If you could excuse me for just a moment…? There’s a lounge just down the hall on your right.”

Relieved to have an excuse to be alone for a few minutes, Ellen nodded and rose from her chair, following his directions to the lounge.

What if Tony really didn’t ever come home? she wondered bleakly.

And why should he? She hardly gave him reason. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d talked without fighting about something or other. Usually about how hard she was working while all he did was get to play games all day with the kids at school and then come home and do pointless things like writing stories and reading those stupid books of his. Over the last couple years she’d really seen the light go out of him… he’d become more withdrawn from her.  The smile that had been meant only for her had disappeared. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seem him so full of life, of absolute joy. And he’d wanted to share it with her.

But what was she supposed to do in DC while he hung out with that writer guy…the one who had seemingly brought Tony far more joy than she had these last couple years? That stupid contest…winning had made him so happy. She could barely remember the last time he’d been so animated and excited about anything.

She was a little surprised as she felt her eyes starting to tear up when she recalled how Sacks told her they’d found Tony’s bloodied clothing. She hadn’t really thought about the implication before. What if Tony was dead? The last time she’d really talked to him she’d selfishly given him an ultimate and told him not to come back.  What if that was the last real conversation they ever had?

If she was honest about it, Ellen had to admit she probably had drawn away first. At least she did it because of work, she justified. They could hardly live off a teacher’s salary. Sure he’d been upset and wanted to spend more time with her, but hadn’t she done it all for him?

Or had she just used work as an excuse to drive him away?

Once again she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn’t meant to drive him away, but it was obvious that she had. He’d tried, she recognized miserably. Once upon a time he’d always greeted her with a bright smile and looked at her with...total devotion. He always used to look at her with the same look he’d had the night he’d tried to convince her to join him. But somewhere along the way she’d blown it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d…god, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d said anything positive to him. Or about him. No wonder he so rarely even bothered to try anymore.

He really had been a good husband. He would have done anything for her. He’d given up his childish dreams of being some sort of super-cop for her. He’d always taken care of her, even when she sometimes forgot to appreciate it. She worked long hours so it was usually up to him to keep the house clean and make dinner and…and she’d never even thanked him.  And now he was probably gone.

“Tony, I’m sorry,” she whispered, willing to give anything to just be able to say it to his face…

She sighed heavily as she wiped the few stray tears from her eyes as she moved to look out the window. She almost laughed when she looked down to the street and saw the hearse. Could there be any more obvious an omen? Tony was really gone.

Swallowing a sob, Ellen rested her head against the window pane watching as a young woman dressed got out of the hearse and went bounding up to two men who awaited her just outside the police precinct. Ellen watched as the young woman hugged first one, who looked like he was wearing pajamas…and then the other…the other who looked just like…her eyes widened. “Tony.” That couldn’t be. He was missing. Missing people didn’t just hang around right outside police stations! She stared a few moments longer, trying to decide if he was real or if she was just hallucinating him. It was real. That was unmistakably her husband. “Tony!” she cried out and began knocking on the glass. “TONY!”

It was him! He was right there! But he clearly didn’t hear her. How could he? She was across the street, up a floor, and behind a thick window. She turned and raced for the stairwell.

She reached the street just in time to see the hearse pulling away from the curb, her husband--alive and seemingly well--inside.

“Tony!” she tried in vain to get his attention as she chased after the hearse. By the time she’d gone only half a block, she knew it was futile. There was no way she would catch up, and if Tony could actually hear her, he certainly didn’t seem to be acknowledging it.

How inept were the police here, anyway? And the FBI? The man they were looking for was right across the damn street and they couldn’t find him? She let out a hysterical laugh as she slowed to a stop, watching helplessly as the hearse turned the corner almost two blocks ahead.

She looked back at the Federal Building bitterly. For a moment she considered going back to tell Sacks, but then thought better of it. He was useless. If he’d wanted to find Tony, he would’ve been out looking and he would have found him right there, across the street! Besides, once she told him what she now knew--that her Tony was alive, well, and had willingly gone off with another woman--a woman who drove a hearse and dressed like a…a…dead hooker! And Tony had hugged her! Was that what he wanted now? A fricking dead hooker chick?

Once Sacks found out that Tony had gone willingly, it would no longer be his case. It was just another case of a man leaving his wife for…Ugh!

She turned furiously toward the police precinct.

“I need to report a crime,” she informed the officer at the receiving desk.

“Yes, Ma’am. How can I help you?”

For a few moments Ellen couldn’t even speak. She was so upset she was actually shaking.

“Are you okay?”

Ellen nodded, though she truly wasn’t. But she knew exactly how she was going to make it all better. Hell hath no fury and all. She took a deep calming breath and took a moment to collect herself. It shouldn’t be too hard to track down a woman driving a hearse.

“There was a woman outside just now…” she began telling her ‘harrowing’ story.