Spoilers: None, pre-series
Disclaimer: NCIS - not mine. Obviously, since I'm writing fanfiction instead of real episodes :P
Warnings: Contains mention of rape, violence
Summary: A forensics convention and a night out gone terribly wrong leads to a chance meeting between Tony, Abby and Gibbs. Set preseason 1: my version of how Tony comes to NCIS.
A/N: I'm back! Just a few things to begin with. Firstly, I've got several chapters already written so I'll try to update regularly. I promise this won't be as long or ridiculous as 'Tony Hurts His Knee' . The other thing is this is set about 2 years before Season 1. I know Vivian Blackadder was a character in the JAG-NCIS episodes, but I haven't seen these so for all intents and purposes, she doesn't exist.
One last thing – there are some pretty awful themes in the first few chapters especially. I hope this doesn't put you off, it's in no way graphic.
As always, concrit and reviews are very, very welcome but please don't flame me!
I really hope you enjoy!
The bartender looked up in recognition as a tall, lean man slid onto the barstool in front of him. "Tony! Man, its been a while, thought you'd forgotten us."
Tony smiled, resting both elbows on the bar. "You, Pete? Never. Work's been more than a little crazy lately. I don't think I've gotten more than 3 hours sleep a night for the past few weeks." He wiped a hand over his face
Pete shook his head, noticing the lines of fatigue tracing Tony's eyes and mouth. "Jesus, kid. You should be home, sleeping right now. But hey – I'm glad you're here. Let me get you a beer, on the house."
"Make it a ginger beer, would you?"
Pete glanced up, hand reaching for a glass. "You're on duty?"
Tony nodded, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it into messy spikes.
"Oh, the rapist case, right?" Pete said, setting the glass on the bar, his face darkening considerably. "Saw you on TV a couple times this week. What's that name they've given the guy?"
"The Friday Rapist," Tony said with a wry smile. "The creativity of the modern media never ceases to amaze me. A psycho who rapes a different girl every Friday. Genius." He frowned, drinking from the glass. "The press is all over this, it's ridiculous. I mean, I've spent the better part of this week conducting press conferences and doing interviews. Never mind letting me catch the bastard, let's just talk about how terrible he is."
Pete reached over, patting him lightly on the forearm. "That blows. But, ah, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here if you're on duty?"
"It's Friday." Tony said simply.
"Yeah… wait, you think the rapist might strike here?"
Tony shrugged. "Six victims so far. All attacked in different clubs, different suburbs. The only consistent description we've gotten so far is he dresses in black. Doesn't exactly narrow the search down," Tony said, gazing around the rapidly-filling nightclub. "He chooses a girl, rapes her, beats her to within an inch of her life and splits, same thing every week."
Pete placed both hands on the edge of the bar, watching the mass of bodies moving to the music on the dance floor. "Jesus, he could be right here."
Tony nodded somberly. "We've got teams in place at night clubs across the city. Trouble is, we don't know what we're looking for."
Tony tilted his head toward the dance floor. "Dan's here." Pete recognized Dan Becker, the blonde-haired man who was Tony's partner, sitting at a table in the middle of the club. "So you notice anything unusual tonight?"
"Nothing stands out to me," Pete said, grabbing Tony's glass and topping it up. "Apparently there was some forensic convention in town that just finished. Lots of nerdy looking people wandering through, looking to get smashed before they have to go back to work on Monday."
"Geeks gone wild," Tony said with a grin. To the left of the bar, a group, obviously from the convention, were doing lines of shots. He smiled as a black-haired female, looking slightly out of place amongst the weedy, glasses-wearing scientists, downed her third shot, slamming down the glass in triumph. "They're gonna need the weekend just to recover from the hangover."
Pete gave his hand another friendly pat, moving down the bar to serve some other people. Tony swung around on the stool so that his back was resting against the bar and he had a wide view of the club. All around him, people were dancing, chatting, drinking, having fun.
Somewhere out there in Baltimore, the Friday Rapist was watching, choosing his next victim. Someone's night was about to end.
Today's my birthday so, you know, isn't that a good enough reason to leave a review? Haha.