Spoilers: General for both series, up to the end of 2007.
Characters: Tony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs, Victor Henricksen, Sam Winchester
Disclaimer: Own nothing, not being paid.
Word count: 921
A/N: Written from prompts from kellifer_fic and lunardreamed back in 2007. Going through my files on my computer, I found this. I'd hoped to make it into a longer story, but that's not happening. Not betaed, so feel free to point out any mistakes.
Summary: NCIS encounter one of the Winchesters at a crime scene without realising it.
"Was anyone hurt?"
Tony looked up from his notepad at the sound of the voice. It belonged to a young man with ridiculously floppy hair, an inch or so on him in height and a terrible fashion sense. Flannel shirts and layers was so early 90s Hicksville. The young man's face was open and guileless, and while his question had seemed perfectly innocent, it held the undertones of morbid curiosity that Tony had been hearing all morning. People always wanted to know about other people's pain. Ironically, they hated the attention when they were the one in pain.
Tony gave his standard answer. "No. Luckily, Mrs Munez' neighbours pulled her out in time."
Of course, there would now be the standard reaction: sympathy, relief that she was okay, anger at the fact that she could have been hurt. But, what Tony saw instead, just for a split second, was pure panic. It was quickly covered up with what was expected, but there was a moment when the man looked like he'd just hit someone with his car.
"Some-someone set the house on fire with her in it?" There was just the right level of incredulous naivety in his voice.
Tony immediately felt justified and internally readied himself for anything to happen. He hadn't said that it looked like it was arson. "And just how do you know that someone set the house on fire, Mr...?"
"Weston, Luke Weston." There was no stammer, no trip over the name, and, if this guy had something to do with the fire, there's no way he'd give his real name or be that natural giving a false one. "Mr Louis mentioned something about that you thought it was deliberate. Jeez, that's just horrible, the poor woman."
Tony's suspicions had eased with the mention of the neighbour's name, but he wasn't quite ready to let this drop. "So, did you see anything suspicious, Mr Weston?"
Weston shook his head. "I'm visiting my sister." He indicated the direction with his head. "Only arrived this morning, so no, unfortunately I didn't see anything. I wish I could help." He gave a sad smile and turned away, walking down the street away from Tony.
There was still something about the man that bothered Tony, but unlike Gibbs, he didn't believe that your gut instinct was always 100 percent right.
The shout came from behind him and Tony automatically turned around and started jogging. "Yeah, Boss?"
He could always do some checking in to Luke Weston later, anyway. Whatever had Gibbs' tightie-whities tied in such a knot was more important right now. A day and a half later when FBI Agent Henricksen turned up and showed them pictures of Dean and Sam Winchester, Tony could have kicked himself.
"Can I help you?"
The tall African American man in front of Gibbs' desk scowled enough that Gibbs was sure that he'd picked up the annoyance in the words.
"Agent Henricksen, FBI." The agent showed his badge. "You in charge of the Munez case?"
Gibbs leaned back in his chair and took a moment to assess Henricksen. The suit was spotless, he was expensively dressed and there was that spark of obsession in his eye that all good (and a lot of bad) cops have. The agent's words were brusque, indicating that he didn't care a lot about politeness. Gibbs didn't particularly care about it either, but he got a feeling that their reasons differed.
"Yes," he finally said, standing up. "Agent Gibbs. And the FBI's interest?"
Henricksen pulled two booking photographs out of his jacket pocket. Gibbs immediately recognised one of the two men as someone that Tony had talked to.
"You see either of these men?"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs called.
Gibbs gestured to Tony. "Get over here."
When Tony appeared beside Gibbs' shoulder, Gibbs pointed to the photo. "Recognise him?"
"Oh, yeah," Tony nodded. "Luke Weston, visiting his sister. Didn't see anything."
"What about him?" Henricksen asked, pointing to the other photo.
Tony shook his head. "No, didn't see him."
"You do realise you just let two of the FBI's most wanted go?" Henricksen spat out. He pointed at each picture in turn. "Dean and Sam Winchester, wanted for murder, torture, bank robbery, grave desecration. You name it, they've done it."
"Regicide?" Tony commented. He continued on at Henricksen's glare. "So, you think that these Winchesters burned down Mrs Munez's house."
"I know that they did."
That spark of obsession in Henricksen's eyes had increased in brightness tenfold and Gibbs got the feeling that he was quite possibly a little blinkered when it came to anything to do with these two men.
"I want your case notes, your evidence and to interview anybody who was at that scene."
"Anything else?" Tony replied, faux sweetly. "The keys to the city, perhaps?"
"NCIS has jurisdiction," Gibbs said mildly. "The house that burned down was a Naval officer's."
"I don't give a rat's ass about jurisdiction-"
"I do. If we find any evidence linking the fire to the Winchesters, I'll call you. Until then, I'm sure you can find your own way out."
Gibbs stared at Henricksen, not letting him out-intimidate him. Eventually, a small, cold smile settled on Henricksen's face.
"Fine. I'll be back, Agent Gibbs."
The agent smartly turned around and walked to the elevator, slapping the button hard. As if in response, the doors immediately opened and he was swallowed up.
"Up on the screen, Boss. Dean and Sam Winchester, born 1979 and 1983..."