Happens sometime at the beginning of Season 5. This idea popped into my mind, and I had to write it. Please, enjoy!


"At first I thought that the man died from asphyxiation, but the biopsy revealed that he choked to death on this little thing." Ducky held up a small medal, diamond in shape, and worn around the edges. "It was lodged in the trachea near the top of his lung which is quite unusual. I also found traces of faux fur in his lungs."

"The killer wore faux fur gloves?" Gibbs asked, his eyes trained on the little medal Ducky now dropped in an evidence cup with a sharp tink.

"Or used faux fur to block his airflow as they lodged the metal further into his body." Ducky sighed. "A painful, yet creative, way to die."

"Ya think?" Gibbs eyes hardened as he let his body droop slightly into a defeated stance. It was only eleven a.m. and he was already leadless and the killer fit every woman within a fifteen-mile radius of D.C. Not to mention the coffee shop down the road was short employees and the wait was longer than he could afford. This was going to be a long and trying case. He quickly turned to leave.

"Jethro, I'm not finished yet!" Ducky trailed after him, clutching the evidence jar. Gibbs beckoned him to follow with a quick gesture from his hand and strode to the elevator. He jabbed the elevator button twice for good measure and turned to Ducky.


"Well, I can confirm it was a woman by pysco-analyzing the killer's profile. The killer most likely drugged the victim so they could gain the upper hand easier--" The elevator door pinged open and Gibbs stepped inside, followed closely by Ducky. "--no reason to do that unless the killer lacked physical strength over that of the victim's--" The doors crept closed and the off-balanced feeling of ascending distracted Gibbs from Ducky's ramblings. He flicked the elevator off button, startling Ducky into silence.

"What on Earth are you doing Jethro--?"

Gibbs cut him off. "What do we need to look for, Duck, before another one of my agents is shot at?" Anger flicked over steel blue eyes, with perhaps a touch of worry.

"A woman, perhaps in her mid-thirties who dresses like she's wealthy, but is far from it," Ducky looked at Gibbs, slightly annoyed he had been treated so roughly.

Gibbs nodded, satisfied, and flicked the elevator switch to 'on'. Nothing happened. He flicked it again, and yet again, the elevator refused to respond. Gibbs swore and hit the metal side with a dull thunk.

"I think, perhaps, we are stuck," Ducky stated, eying around the metal box.

"Ya think?" Gibbs glared at Ducky and growled.

"Well it's certainly not my fault," Ducky returned with a strong stare.

Gibbs just gave the side another good kick.

"This isn't interrogation, Jethro. That won't work." Ducky gave a short sigh and leaned against the wall. He picked up the emergency phone and shifted irritably. Of course, the phone had to be out of order...

"If you had just gotten to the point, this wouldn't have happened," Gibbs' voice rang through the silence of the metal box bathed with irritation and impatience.

"Perhaps," Ducky responded, "If you didn't always abuse this thing, we'd be moving."

"This isn't one of my exes."

"This isn't one of your agents either," Ducky smiled slyly. "Or your personal office."

Gibbs groaned. Yup, this was definitely going to be a long day.