“…And lycopersicon esculentum,” Piggy concludes the report of his findings.

“Gesundheit,” an unfamiliar voice calls out from behind me. I whirl around and gape at the invader lurking just inside the door. Piggy squeals as he quickly ducks behind me. Bravery is clearly not one of his virtues. Given, the man in the doorway is at least half a foot taller than Pig, though I’d venture their weights are pretty similar.

“Hm. Perhaps I should have said ‘Bless you’?” the guy offers an alternative, flashing a grin as he steps a little farther into the room and I get a better look at him. Tall, boyishly handsome, perfect hair, perfect teeth…Ugh! I know his type: absurdly good looking--and something about him just screams that he knows it--but he looks like he’s all trying to impress people by wearing some ridiculously expensive looking suit and what I’m betting are Italian leather shoes. Talk about a total sleazoid! Just where does he think he is?

Actually, I don’t care where he thinks he is. What matters is he’s in my lab. What is he doing in my lab? He’s wearing a visitor’s badge, but nobody, and I mean nobody, comes into the lab without an escort. I don’t care if he’s the Director’s nephew or…or whoever he is, he’s not supposed to be here!

I glance around for a weapon of some sort. Snatching up the fire extinguisher, I point it at him, ready to fire.

The man’s hands fly up as if in surrender, but he looks far more amused than frightened. Okay, so fire extinguishers aren’t that scary, and he probably knows that the carbon dioxide foamy stuff isn’t harmful, but still!

I narrow my eyes as I take a step toward him, silently threatening to release my wrath upon him if he doesn’t get out. Obviously, it won’t cause any permanent damage, but it’ll probably make a really awesome splotch on the overpriced suit.

His mouth falls open slightly as if he’s going to protest, but he doesn’t. Still, he looks far closer to laughing than he does to leaving. In fact, infuriatingly, he lets out a small chuckle. My hand starts to tighten on the trigger.

“Hi. I’m Detective DiNozzo,” the guy introduces himself, his smarmy look not faltering. He slowly reaches down and opens his jacket enough to show me the badge fastened to his belt. I step threateningly toward him again, extinguisher still at the ready.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he adds, though he doesn’t look even the remotest bit repentant. “I’m guessing that nobody told you that I’m meeting Agents Fiora, Gibbs, and Thomas here.”

No. Nobody told me anything like that, I’m pretty sure I’d remember something like ‘Hey, Abs, some strange guy is going to randomly wander into the lab today’. The guy might know the right names to say, but how did he get down here without an escort?

As if he can hear my silent question, he answers. “ Mickey…” he motions behind him, though I don’t see any sign of the guard in question, “showed me down here.” He seems to be on the level, and he had to have had someone with him to get to our floor, but I still don’t quite trust him. What if he’s done something to Mickey? My God, the man could be like lying in a pool of blood in the elevators or stairway or something!

I spare a glance at Piggy, hoping that by now he’s pulling the alarm or something, but he’s actually cowering behind the desk. “Piggy, call Gibbs!” I hear him scurry as I return my full glare to the man in front of me. We stare at each other in silence as Piggy makes the call.

“They’re on their way down,” Piggy announces. “Said they’ve been expecting him.”

Yeah, okay, so maybe they were, but did anyone bother to tell me? Noooo.

“I know I’m hot and all…” the supposed detective prattles arrogantly. I raise an eyebrow as I scrutinize him, relaxing slightly as I notice that his piercingly green eyes are dancing with amusement. He motions to the extinguisher, “…but I think maybe you can put that away now.”

I hesitantly lower the extinguisher a little bit, but still don’t trust him enough to actually set it down. It’ll probably be a better weapon swinging it at him than spraying him with it anyway. So you better not make a move, Buster…

“Abby!” Fi admonishes me as she appears in the doorway. I glance at her long enough to see her motion for me to put the fire extinguisher away. “Abby, this is Tony,” Fi introduces him in a somewhat hushed whisper. I barely stop myself from wincing as I connect the name to a conversation we had earlier in the day. This is the guy she was telling me about? The guy she was meeting for lunch? Oh…no. I would have sworn she’d have better taste than this! I really need to get her to go out clubbing with me some time, introduce her around. The last thing she needs is to hook up with some…overgrown frat boy!

I force myself to smile, though, as I put down my non-weapon. “Sorry about that, I’m just not used to random people wandering into my lab,” I apologize crisply, probably sounding just about as sincere as he was when he apologized earlier.

“It’s alright,” he replies easily, ignoring the tone of my voice. “I sure wouldn’t ever run into you in a dark alley, though,” he adds, teasing. Oh come on. Tell me he is not flirting with me, right now. And in front of Fi, no less. Did I already call him a sleazoid? If not, I’m calling him one now.

“You think I’d be hanging out in alleys?” I shoot back, shutting him up. At least I think that’s what shut him up, but it could also have been the arrival of Gibbs and Baker.

“What’ve you got for us, Abs?” Gibbs asks.

“I don’t know, what’ve you got for me?” I ask, looking pointedly at the cup in his hand. I grin as he hands it to me. Caf-Pow! Yay! I take it eagerly and take a long sip while Piggy picks up his notebook and begins listing the substances he identified. I can’t help but grin as I watch Gibbs, Fi, and Baker’s faces glaze over just a bit.

“Lycowhatsit, now?” Detective DiNozzo asks, evidently pretending to be interested.

“Well, Detective,” I start to reply.

“You can call me Tony,” he interrupts me. I’m sure he probably thinks that grin he flashes is charming. And it probably works on a lot of girls. Oh, but I can’t believe that Fi is one of them. Sad, sad, sad!

“Well, Detective,” I repeat, smirking a little when his smile falters ever so slightly. “The substance on the plate, as Piggy was saying, is pasta sauce.”

“Well then why didn’t Pig just say it was pasta sauce?” Baker mutters under his breath.

“Come on, what’s the fun in that?” I ask cheekily. At Gibbs’ warning look, I continue with the analysis. “The good news is there’s no trace of any drugs or anything like that. Well, at least I think that’s good news. I mean, it could be bad because at least if there were signs of drugs you might have a lead to work with, but I’m glad that nobody actually got drugged. At least not by the pasta sauce…” When Gibbs clears his throat, sounding rather strained, I realize that I’ve let myself get carried away in thought again. Oops! Back to, “There weren’t any full prints on either plate,” I continue reporting our findings. “But I did find a couple partials. I’m running them now, but it’ll take a while.”

“Define ‘a while’,” Gibbs requests dryly.

“Well, we already did match one of the partials to Lauren Howe because we just did a comparison between her known print and these. The other one, though, we’re running through AFIS.” I point toward the computer screen as it’s scanning the database. “AFIS is the Automated Fingerprint Identification System,” I explain to Tony.

“I think I might possibly be familiar,” he replies sardonically.

“How long, Abby?” Gibbs asks.

“It depends. We don’t know if the person is even in the system. And with only a partial…” I can see Gibbs’ impatience growing and get directly to the answer, even though I know it won’t make him any happier. “Probably won’t have anything until at least tomorrow morning. And that’s even if this person is in the system.”

“So what you’re saying is, we’re at a stand-still,” Baker announces, earning himself a Gibbs-Glare Special.

“Have you tried comparing the partial to any of the ones found at other scenes?” Tony asks. “The record numbers should be in my notes there…”

Hm. Interesting. It won’t give us a name, but it might place someone at more than one scene…I quickly bring up a new screen and type in the new search parameters and wait as Gibbs looks on, over my shoulder.

“No match,” I announce, disappointed as the message flashes on my screen. “Good thought, though,” I compliment the detective before I notice that he’s not behind me anymore. I look around for him and my eyes widen as I notice him looking at Lieutenant Mass Spectrometer (hmm, he’s due for a promotion soon), his hand reaching toward it. Hey! “Don’t touch that!” I snap, launching myself across the room toward him.

He looks up, startled as I slap his hand before it can reach its destination. For just a moment I swear he looks just like my little 4 year old nephew when he’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And then he just beams innocently at me. “What is this thing?”

“It’s a mass spectrometer. It identifies molecules. And it’s really expensive,” I inform him tersely.

“Okay. No touching. I got you.”

I start to turn back to the others but stop again as out of the corner of my eye I see Tony starting to lean in toward my microscope. Okay, that’s it.

“The full database search isn’t going to complete until morning, so the lab is now closing. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” I abruptly announce, looking pointedly at Fi and nodding toward Tony, hoping she’ll take the HINT and get him out of here.

“So, we’re at a standstill,” Baker confirms his earlier assessment as he glances at his watch. “You know, Sir, it’s after 5…” I flinch a little bit as Baker calls Gibbs ‘Sir’. After all this time, you’d think he’d know better! Especially when he’s asking for something he knows Gibbs isn’t going to go for!

“We should check out the club,” Fi cuts his wheedling to go home short.

“Club?” I ask, perking up a little. I could go for a little bit of clubbing.

“Club Fiasco,” Fi informs me. “It’s where our Lance Corporal was last seen.” “We’ll get Friday night’s receipts and ask around, see if anyone saw anything.” She turns to Gibbs, seeking his permission. When he nods, she looks longingly over at Tony, who is…

“Hey! Don’t touch that!” I cry out, as I spot him hovering over the degausser. He looks up guiltily, then flashes me another of his “charming” grins. Ugh! He is just like a little kid! What does Fi see in him? I don’t get it! But…she does like him, and apparently she’s too shy to ask him to go with her to the club.

“We should all go,” I suggest for her. “Get the info and then maybe have a little fun.”

Tony’s grin widens and he looks over at Baker. “Yeah, I’ll give my partner a call, have him meet us there for a little reconnaissance mission.” Baker groans, but Fi laughs a little bit. There’s got to be a story behind that somewhere…

“So, we’re going?”

Tony glances at each of us and I can see him weighing the decision, looking suddenly a little bit nervous. Probably worried about going on a second date with the same person, I bet; I know his type. I wonder if it counts as a second date if it’s still the same day. Or if the first one was crashed by someone’s boss and partner. I’ll have to ask Fi how that went. I wish I could have seen the look on his face! Maybe this should count as their first date. If Fi has any sense, maybe it’ll be their last, too. I swear, if he hurts her I’ll…I don’t know what, but he’ll be sorry. And nobody will ever be able to trace it back to me.

“Yeah, we’re going,” he decides aloud. “I just have to make a quick stop at home, but I’ll meet you there.”

“How about you, Gibbs?” I cheerfully ask, though I know he’ll never agree to it. I give him an extra disappointed look when he just shakes his head, but it only makes him smile. I turn to my assistant. “You coming, Piggy?”

Piggy looks really surprised by the invitation. He nervously adjusts his glasses and sweeps the long strand of hair out of his face. I try not to stare at the oily spot that stays behind but it really is kind of gross. I sort of hope that he’ll say no to the invite, but it just didn’t seem right not to ask. “Sure. Where is this place?”

I start to explain, but stop as Tony reaches for Pig’s notebook and pen. Yeah, that’s probably a better idea. I’m a little surprised that he’s actually helping Pig. His type usually just tries to pretend that guys like Piggy don’t exist, but Tony quickly sketches out a little map, marking the exit number and street names. I wonder how often he must go there to just know that stuff.

“Think I should ask Ducky?” I suggest, knowing full well that he won’t come, but feeling like we should at least make the invite.

“Ducky?” Tony asks.

“Our medical examiner. You’re going to love him,” I explain.

“So…Piggy and Ducky,” he mulls over the names while I make the call down to autopsy. “Does that make you Doggy?” he asks Baker and gets a rude gesture in reply. “Perhaps Assy…” Tony amends, grinning at Baker’s borderline murderous look. He quickly turns back to Fi. “Helloooo, Kitty!”

As I expected, Ducky declines the invite to join us. “I would love to, Abigail, and I thank you for thinking of me, but I’m afraid it’s Mother’s bridge night. I don’t trust her lot to not make off with our silver,” he begs off, and I’m fairly certain that he’s not kidding. I’ve got to meet Mrs. Mallard some day…

I almost suggest to Fi that we drive down to Baltimore together so that I can grill her about the sort-of date, but decide against it. She’ll probably want to leave a lot earlier than I will. Besides, while I was hoping to go out and happen to have my club attire with me, I’m sure she’ll want to go home and change.

Except that she doesn’t. I groan as I see her entering the club an hour and a half later wearing her work outfit. Oh, Fi, that is so not club worthy! I wave her over. When she reaches me, I tug at her jacket, trying to get her to take the ugly thing off. That only helps so much, though; the skirt is still pretty frumpy, and the sweater’s nice and all, but a little out of place at a club like this.

“Want to borrow my collar?” I offer, trying to help her fit in.

“No. Thanks, though,” she replies, stopping me before I can get it unsnapped. I almost laugh at how uncomfortable she appears about the idea of wearing it. “Are the others here yet?” she asks, quickly changing the topic.

“You mean is Tony here yet?” I tease her just a little bit. “No, I haven’t seen him. Baker’s over there, though,” I point out where Baker is talking with a group of older guys. I think I might recognize one of the guys as Baker’s brother, so I’m guessing that they’re probably cops. They’re not in uniform but they really don’t look like they belong in a club like this; they look way too clean cut. Then again, so do Baker and Fi.

“We should probably go let him know we’re here…”

I smile at the reluctant tone in her voice. “Oh give him a few minutes,” I suggest, but she shakes her head.

“I’m going to go get him and then go talk to the owner, get the receipts, see if we can find anything. If you see Tony, tell him…”

“That you think he’s totally hot and you want to take him home?” I finish for her, even though I know that’s not what she was going to say. I smirk as she blushes a deeper shade of red. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him occupied for you,” I assure her. And keep his eyes from wandering to any of the other women here, I silently add.

I sit at the table for a couple minutes while Fi goes to talk to Baker, but I can only sit alone for so long, so I check to be sure there’s nothing that might get stolen from Fi’s jacket pockets, and then abandon it at the table. If someone takes the jacket itself, it’ll be doing her a favor, I decide as I head onto the dance floor to have a little fun.

It’s during the fourth song that I happen to spot Tony standing at the entrance. Unlike Fi and Baker, he’s taken the time to go home and dress more appropriately for clubbing. He still looks a bit too preppy for my tastes, but I have to say he looks much better in a black T, casual jacket, and jeans than he did in the old fogey suit. I see him scanning the crowd and I jump up a few times, waving to him. A wide grin spreads across his face as he sees me and he starts heading closer, dancing his way toward me.

“Hey, Abby!” he greets, yelling over the noise of the crowd as he falls into place beside me. His dance moves have a lot to be desired, but I credit him for at least trying. Not enough to be seen dancing with him, though. I grab his wrist and lead him back to our table. Unfortunately, nobody has touched Fi’s jacket, but at least it’s stopped someone else from taking our table.

I wave to Fi to make sure she sees that Tony’s arrived. She and Baker look like they’re just wrapping up talking with a guy I assume to be the club manager. She gives me a little wave and smiles radiantly at Tony, who practically glows as he waves back at her.

“Nice collar,” Tony comments as he plops into the chair next to mine.

“Well, of course it is,” I reply with a smirk. It’s mine after all. “Want to borrow it?” I test him. To my surprise, his eyes light up and he nods. I hesitate, not sure if I actually want to hand it over. He just doesn’t strike me as even remotely close to being into the Goth scene, and he’s probably just going to make fun of it. Guys like him always do. Except that there doesn’t look like there’s any malice in his expression. He’s probably testing me every bit as much as I’m testing him, I realize and call his bluff. I reach up and take off the collar, extending it toward him.

“What do you think: is it me?” he asks, tipping his chin up and turning to show me his profile, modeling the collar for me. “Does it turn you on?” he mockingly flirts in a low voice.

“Not even a little,” I reply, exaggerating my disinterest. He may not be my type, but I admit that he does look kind of hot. In fact, he’d look awesome if we spiked his hair just a little and maybe got him some guyliner. Ooh. Yeah, that’d rock. I’m sure his ego doesn’t need any stroking from me, though.

“Ah well, can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says with a faux wistful sigh. “Hey, about earlier…I kind of got the feeling that we started off on the wrong foot.”

“Now what could possibly have given you that idea?” I ask wryly. He only grins, though, taking my sarcasm in his stride as he plucks something from his belt and extends it toward me. A black rose. I look at him in confusion.

“Hey!” Baker snaps angrily as he reaches our table and sees what Tony’s handing to me. He reaches to grab it from Tony, who swiftly pulls it out of his reach.

“You didn’t want it when I offered, you can’t have it now,” Tony taunts lightly. I raise an eyebrow, wondering what the story there is. Neither one tells me, but the look of sheer embarrassment on Baker’s face says as much as I really need to know, anyway.

Tony looks back to me and once again presents the rose. “A black rose is a symbol of a new beginning, or starting over. Or starting a new adventure,” he explains, and I’m pleasantly surprised he knows that; most people always assume it’s some sort of death threat or something. Tony’s not that bad, I decide. As long as he stays out of my lab.

“Thanks!” I accept the rose and break off most of the stem so that I can tuck the bud it into my hair. Tony nods appreciatively before rising to his feet as he sees Fi approaching. I quickly scoot over to give her the chair next to his.

“Did you guys get what you needed?” I ask as she reaches us.

“The manager is getting Friday’s receipts together,” she replies. “It’ll probably be a little while, though.”

“Then we should totally dance,” I ‘suggest’ as I take her wrist and start tugging her toward the floor, motioning for Tony to come with us. I figure it’ll save them a bit of time since Fi will probably never ask him and most guys are too dense to figure out that a girl might want him to ask her.

We start dancing as a group, but after a short time I make my escape. Mission accomplished. I watch for a few moments to make sure they don’t just head back to the table or something lame before seeking out a partner or two of my own.

“Abby!” someone interrupts me a few songs later.

“Pig, you came!” I greet him as I turn around. I give him a quick hug and then tug on his arm, trying to get him to start moving with the music. It quickly becomes clear that he is a man with absolutely no rhythm. He looks incredibly uncomfortable every time anyone else gets too close, which is pretty much a constant.

Much as I’d rather dance, it doesn’t seem right to abandon Pig or make him stay on the floor when he’s clearly not having any fun. I look around to see if maybe Fi and Tony have gone back to the table yet, or if I can find someone else that Pig could hang around with. Nobody is back at our table, but after a few moments, I spot the pair talking to some of the guys Baker was talking with earlier. I don’t really feel like hanging out with the mod squad, but I lead Pig over to them anyway.

“Hey, Enzo! Long time no see!” one of the guys greets.

“Hey, Will,” Pig greets. For a moment I’m just glad that there are other people here that he knows, but then I realize he doesn’t look any more comfortable here than he did on the dance floor. Hm. Guess I probably shouldn’t leave them just yet, then.

“You two know each other?” I ask them, hoping to get a good conversation going so that I can duck out.

“Yeah, Enzo here used to work down in the lab. Baltimore PD,” Will informs me. I knew he’d given up a good job to work at NCIS. It just sucks that they’re talking about letting him go, but at least I know Gibbs’ll make sure that he doesn’t get fired. “Officer Will Grant,” the officer introduces himself to me.

“Oh, hey,” Tony notices our arrival. “Abby, Pig, these are some of the guys from the station.”

One of the officers burst out laughing as he looks at Piggy. “Pig? Oh that’s rich…”

Tony looks slightly startled, then a little bit guilty as Pig blanches. Tony’s not the one who should feel guilty; he didn’t know that was just my little nickname for my assistant. Besides, Tony’s not the jerk laughing at Piggy about it. I glare at the officer as I sling my arm around Piggy’s shoulders, challenging him to say something more. He pales a little bit himself and mutters something that probably is supposed to be an apology.

In an attempt to ease the awkwardness, Tony quickly begins to introduce us both to everyone at the table, including his partner, who I recognize as Baker’s brother, Pat. I appreciate Tony’s effort, but frankly, most of the officers’ names go in one ear and out the other. “And last, quite possibly least, this is Det. Bobby Gale.”

“Robert,” Detective Gale corrects sharply, otherwise ignoring Tony’s jab. “Hey, Enzo.”

Pig nods amicably at Gale, but still looks incredibly uneasy about being here. I sigh, realizing that I’m probably not going to be able to get back on the dance floor any time soon since I just wouldn’t feel right ditching him.

“Anyone need anything from the bar?” I ask and am quickly inundated with requests. “Come help me carry?” I ask Piggy, who looks relieved to have an excuse to get away from the group for a little while. I can’t help but wonder why he decided to come if he didn’t want to be around people. The more the merrier doesn’t seem to be a philosophy that agrees with him.

I’m a little surprised when we reach the bar to find that Tony has followed us. “Figured you could use a bit of my muscle to help out,” he says lightly as he flexes a little for show. I roll my eyes even though I can tell he isn’t being serious about it. At least I don’t think he is. I hope not, because frankly it’s not that impressive. Still, a couple extra hands would be good. “Sorry about that back there,” I hear him quietly saying to Piggy as I wave to get the bartender’s attention. Yeah, he really isn’t that bad.

“It’s okay, Detective.”

“Call me Tony.”

“Enzo…or Pig’s fine,” he adds. “I think I remember you from the station…”

For a moment, Tony looks slightly guilty and I’m guessing he doesn’t remember Pig, but he quickly recovers and asks if Pig assisted at all on some case or another that I quickly tune out. I smile as I hear Piggy relaxing a little bit as the two of them start chattering about ‘old times’ at the BPD. Maybe I’ll get a chance to dance some more, after all. While we wait for our drinks I scan the dance floor looking for a promising partner.

By the time we get the drinks back to the table, I think Piggy has completely forgotten I’m here--not that I mind at all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more animated than he is as he regales some story about another case he assisted on before he’d come to NCIS.

My work here is done, and with him occupied I don’t feel any guilt at all as I slip away into the crowd and don’t return until the DJ decides it’s time for some slow dancing. I do feel a little bit guilty, though, when I finally return to the table and discover that Piggy has been completely monopolizing Tony’s time. Oops. It appears that while I was gone, most of the party has dispersed, but Tony, Baker, Pat, Gale, and Pig still remain.

“This rounds on me!” Det. Thomas loudly announces as he gets up from the table.

“Nah, thanks, Pat, but I think I better not if I’m gonna drive,” Tony declines.

Pat nods good-naturedly. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Kid. Actually, if we’re still gonna get that pizza, we should probably just have a round of sodas then call it a night.” Tony nods. “Anyone else?”

“I think I’m just going to head out,” Baker informs the others. “I’m fine,” he adds as his brother looks at him pointedly. “Only had one, and it’s been half an hour. I’m not stupid.”

“Yeah, sure you’re not,” Pat mocks him, but nods. “See you later, bro,” he calls as Baker takes his leave.

“I should probably get going, too,” Gale announces as he gets to his feet.

“Me, too,” Piggy agrees, though he looks a little reluctant.

“I got our tab,” Tony announces as he pulls a few bills from his wallet and slaps them down on the table. “You get the pizza,” he adds, looking over at Pat as he shoves his wallet back into his pocket.

“No complaints here. Pretty sure I got the better deal. Anything for you, Doll?” Pat asks me as he notices me. Doll? I cock my eyebrow a bit, but smile anyway.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” I assure him.

“Damn straight you are,” he winks at me as he heads up to the bar.

Tony starts to rise to his feet as I reach the table, but is suddenly thrown off balance as Gale accidentally knocks into Piggy, who takes Tony down with him when he falls. I can’t help but laugh as they struggle to disentangle themselves.

“You sure you should be driving, Bobby?” Tony asks cheerfully as he helps Piggy to his feet.

“Robert,” Gale growls, ignoring the question, even though it’s a good one.

“You sure?” Tony pushes, all traces of humor suddenly absent from his voice. The detective just shakes his head and walks away. For a few moments Tony appears to be weighing his options before reluctantly turning his attention back to Pig, instead. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, your friend only had one drink and it’s been over an hour,” Pig assures him, smiling at Tony’s relieved expression. “Thanks for inviting me out tonight,” he says to both of us before he trails after Gale.

“So…have fun?” Tony asks, the lightness back in his voice. He pulls out the chair next to his for me.

“Yeah, great crowd tonight. Thanks for…” I motion toward Pig as he’s walking away.

Tony lets out a little chuckle. “He’s okay…for a brainiac.” I narrow my eyes, wondering if he’s lumping me into the ‘brainiac’ category. His grin widens and he cocks an eyebrow as if in challenge. I poke him, giving him the evil eye. “You’re an exception, cuz you’re a hot gothy brainiac,” he exempts me flirtatiously.

I pretend to swoon.

“Yeah, I have that effect on all the girls,” he gloats. “Women,” he quickly amends as I mock glare at him.

“So, how’d it go with Fi?” I eagerly awaiting the scoop on whether or not there’ll be a third date in their future. That is if either this afternoon or tonight can actually be counted as a date. Which really, they probably shouldn't count since they didn’t really end up getting any time alone at all. At least they did dance a little.

“She found someone a little more her speed,” he says, nodding briefly toward the dance floor. I blink as I turn and see that Fi’s there, slow dancing with Officer Grant.

“Oh.” I don’t really know what else to say as I watch them, feeling suddenly quite awkward.

“Knew I shouldn’t have introduced them.” I can’t quite tell if his smile is genuine or not.

“She’s too old for him anyway, right, Kid?” Pat teases as he sets a soda down in front of Tony and plops down next to us. “Hell, I bet she’s old enough to be one of your usual date’s mamas.” Either Pat is exaggerating, or Tony dates eight year olds. Ew. I think I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Coo coo ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson,” Tony replies with a grin and raises his glass as if toasting. “The Graduate,” he explains to me as Pat knocks his glass against Tony’s to complete the toast. “1967. Dustin Hoffman has an affair with his girlfriend’s mom, Anne Bancroft, aka Mrs. Robinson.” He wags his eyebrows a couple times for emphasis.

“Ugh,” I groan in mock disgust, which turns at least slightly real as I watch the both men guzzle down their entire sodas without even pausing to take a breath. Yikes.

“Well, it’s been nice meetin’ you, Doll,” Pat says to me as he slams the empty glass down on the table and rises to his feet. “See you later, Kid.” I catch him arching an eyebrow at Tony and nodding toward me before he heads out.

Tony shakes his head in amusement as sets his empty glass down on the table. “Don’t suppose you want to dance a bit more?” he asks. He’s nice and all, but I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. He’s still just not my type. Plus, even though it appears things aren’t going to work out between him and Fi, I don’t want to cause any awkwardness there. ”Just friends,” he assures me quietly when he notices my hesitation. “Okay, and maybe a little to make all the other guys jealous,” Tony adds mischievously.

“Ooh. Flattery will get you… well, maybe a dance or two,” I accept his offer and follow him back to the floor. I try to catch Fi’s attention to make sure it’s okay, but she’s far too wrapped up with Officer Grant to notice. At least I tried.

Dancing with Tony turns out to be really…comfortable. He’s a lot better than I expected him to be after witnessing his ‘moves’ earlier. And, faithful to his assurance that we dance just as friends, I never once have to stop him from having wandering hands.

“I should probably go,” I reluctantly admit when the music turns wild again a couple songs later. “Gibbs is going to want a report early in the morning.” I decide to let Tony assume that that means I intend to actually sleep before going in, but I’ll probably just head back to the lab for a few hours to run a few more tests.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he offers.

“Ooh, a gentleman,” I tease lightly.

“Hey, it’s for my own protection. Dark alley and all,” he scoffs. And that megawatt smile is back again.

“I should at least let Fi know I’m going.”

“I could use a bit of fresh air,” he declines to follow me, making me wonder if he’s really all that okay with being jilted after all. “I’ll wait right outside.”

It takes me a couple minutes to find Fi, and another minute to pry her attention away from Officer Grant long enough to talk to alert her, “I’m taking off. You okay to get home?” I ask. I figure even though we don’t really know him, it’s probably safe enough to leave her in the company of a police officer. Besides, Tony knows him and didn’t seem to worry about it. Then again, we don’t really know Tony, either...I frown, looking past her to the guy and sizing him up again, wary about breaking the cardinal rule of not leaving friends alone with strange guys.

Fi sees my look and laughs lightly. “I’ll be fine,” she promises me. “Don’t worry, I have backup.” And then she frowns. “What about you? Should we walk you out?”

“Nah, I got it covered.”

At least I thought I did, but when I get outside, I find no sign of Tony. Would he really offer to walk me to my car and then just leave? It’s possible, but I kind of doubt it. I frown as I scan the area, searching for him to no avail. “Great. Just great.” It’s a little bit chilly out, and I wonder if maybe he went back inside and I missed him somehow. Or maybe he stopped into the bathroom? Should I wait for him or just go on? I don’t really feel threatened walking to my car alone, but I don’t want to leave him hanging if he is still around.

I jump as I hear a loud clanging sound coming from the alley.

“Tony?” I cautiously move a little closer to the corner. I feel safe enough out here, but I don’t exactly feel like tempting fate. “I thought you didn’t want to meet me in a dark alley,” I call out as I pull out my cell phone, poised to dial Fi. She’s just inside and has backup. That’s far better than investigating alone. When I hear a muffled yelp and some scuffling, I immediately hit SEND. “Just so you know, the police are on their way!” I lie as I step just a little bit closer, listening for further sounds of struggle. I almost turn and flee as I hear someone running, but then I realize whoever it is sounds like they’re moving further down the alley rather than toward me.

“Abby, are you okay?” I hear Fi answering her phone but before I can answer I hear something else. Someone is still in the alley. Alternately coughing and gasping as they stagger closer.

“Trouble in the alley. Get out here,” I quickly explain as I decide to take a chance and peek around the corner, ready to run away if the situation warrants. My eyes widen, though, as I see Tony lurching toward me. I drop my phone and leap forward, moving to support him before he collapses. Before I reach him though, he steps back, raising his hands in a defensive gesture warning me to stay back, to not touch him.

“What happened?” I blurt out and wince at the stupidity of the question. Clearly he’s been attacked. His lip is split and his clothes are in complete disarray. He must have fought hard, because his face is unnaturally red and he’s clearly having trouble catching his breath.

I know he doesn’t want me to touch him, but when he pitches forward, dropping to his knees, I quickly move to his side. “Don’t,” he warns me again, his voice raspy. “Crime scene.” Such a cop! Worried about that at a time like this?

“I’ll make sure no one gets back here,” I assure him, reaching to help him up again.

“No.” He jerks away again, and I notice that he’s being really careful not to let his hands touch the ground even as he sways, clearly struggling to stay even partially upright. “Me.” I don’t understand until he adds. “Think I scratched one. Make sure they get scrapings.”

“Abby!” I hear Fi’s yelling my name.

“Over here! It’s Tony!” I call back to her. A few moments later she rounds the corner and see us.

“I’ll call for an ambulance,” Fi announces as she takes in Tony’s appearance.

“No, I’m fine,” he protests. “Just…need to catch my breath.”

“We should get the collar off,” I realize that it might be a little bit restricting.

“No, don’t touch,” he stops me again. “Fingerprints.” On the collar? My eyes widen as I notice that there’s chafing on his neck from where the collar must have been digging into his skin.

“Did you see him?” Fi asks.

“Them,” Tony corrects. “At least two. But no.” He sounds extremely frustrated with the admission. His breath is slowly returning to normal, but he still looks ready to drop over.

“I think you really need to go to Emergency.”

Again he shakes his head. “No. Just process me,” he insists. “Be gentle,” he adds with a little grin.

Fi hesitates for a moment. “I’ll call Ducky, have him meet you in autopsy,” she says to me.

“I’m not dead,” Tony objects. “Not planning on being so any time soon.”

“If you’re not going to the hospital, you’re at least being seen by Ducky,” she insists. “You take him in. I’ll get Baker and Gibbs here to see if we can find anything.”

“The bag,” Tony informs her and nods toward a dark object on the ground a few yards behind us. “Had it over my head. Might be some trace on it.” Oh my God! I fight the urge to hug him. I can’t believe someone attacked him like this!

“Any idea…” Fi starts to ask.

“Why?” he finishes, his grin fading again. He shakes his head. “Might’ve just been a random mugging,” he says, though he sounds doubtful. “Thought I heard someone call for help, got blindsided when I came around the corner. Damn it, I should have known better,” he chides himself.

“They take anything?”

Tony glances at me. “Check my pocket? I don’t want to…” he looks pointedly at his hands.

“Yeah, you’re just hoping I try to cop a feel,” I tease, even though my heart isn’t really in it. I slip my hand into his pocket, but don’t feel anything. “Nada.”

“My wallet,” he grumbles. “My keys. And cell.” He seems to be mulling something over before he speaks again. “I don’t think that’s what they were after, though,” he admits softly. He suddenly looks really uncomfortable. “I’m pretty sure they were trying to take me.”