Chapter Text
Exhausted from all the talking he had been doing the whole day, Tony made his way toward the car where the two junior agents of his team were waiting. As he neared it, he could see that neither of them was paying much attention to their surroundings, both seemingly absorbed in their books and magazines. He frowned at the scene, but maybe they were simply pretending since he had told them that he was on his way back. Nevertheless, he took some photos on his phone and noticed that neither of them seemed to notice that either. He decided not to stop the recording as opened the back door and slid into the backseat.
"Hello," he said, his voice scratchy after talking for so many hours. Also, the air had been irritating in some places around the neighborhood.
"What happened to you?" McGee asked as he turned around in his seat. Tony had caught that he had jumped a little when he opened the door.
"Don't play dumb. You reveled in every minute of my suburban suffering," Tony replied, glaring at both of them.
"Actually, no, we've been not listening for the last couple of hours," McGee replied, going back to his magazine. Ziva hadn't even looked up from her book once and Tony got a sinking feeling in his gut.
"One can only stand your voice for so long. Did you talk to everyone?" the woman asked and the feeling grew, not just at her words, but also at the question. Had they been listening, they would have known that he had indeed talked to all of them. He swallowed heavily, before pasting on a smile. Maybe they were just pulling his chain. Maybe they were kidding. They wouldn't have turned off the radio while they were looking for terrorists, would they?
"All 43 residents, including the entire cast of American Beauty... in a nice bikini... and The Stepford Wives. Have we got anything to drink?"
McGee threw him a bottle of water which he gratefully accepted while Ziva put the car into gear and they made their way back to headquarters. While they were still en route, McGee returned to his magazine and Ziva was concentrating on driving, so Tony turned off his recording and took the receiver that was laying in the middle console. He pulled out his phone and then slid the USB port of the recorder into the corresponding port on his phone, glad that he had spent the extra money to have one. He opened an app on his phone that was of his own design. It would copy the contents of the receiver, without leaving a trace that any copying had happened. Tony then slid the receiver back into the place it had been in before, without the other two in the car any the wiser. Now he just had to wait and find out when he was at home or alone back at the office as to whether or not his two teammates had lied to him about turning off the coms.
When they reached the office, Tony went to hand the equipment back to Abby while Ziva and McGee made their way back up to the bullpen.
"What took you so long?" Gibbs demanded as they settled back into their seats.
"DiNozzo had to flirt with everyone in the neighborhood," McGee replied, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, it was pathetic," Ziva agreed, booting up her computer.
Their words made Gibbs see red and when Tony came into the bullpen a few minutes later, the first thing that happened was him getting another Gibbs slap. Both Ziva and McGee snickered, especially when they saw Tony's surprised face. He'd never seen it coming.
"What was that for, Boss?" Tony asked, indignantly.
"For wasting time flirting while you were out to get those voice prints. We have a case to solve!" Gibbs snapped. "Now get to work and you better have something for me when I come back!"
Tony rubbed the sore spot on his head while he settled down at his desk to get to work. It would be better if he didn't anger Gibbs anymore. He coughed a bit, his throat still sore even though Abby had given him some of her Caf!Pow!. He pulled out a bottle of water that he had stashed in his desk and drank some before he pulled more of the letters, from where they had rested on the edge of his desk, close that had been sent to the host of the show. Maybe there was something more in there while they waited for Abby's analysis.
A few hours later, Abby stormed into the bullpen to tell them what she found, which led to McGee having his moment of glory because the man could hack into their suspect's calendar and emails. They read for a while, Tony pointing out that getting a birthday present for the wife was not making any sense since the wife had been dead for a few years, but as always, since it was McGee that had gotten them the evidence in the first place and Abby that had led them to a suspect, it was those two that got the praise. Tony sighed and got ready to apprehend at least one of the accomplices for whatever was planned, one bomb maker Deeter Johanson while Ziva would play his successor to try and get an in with the group.
Both the grab and the meet went off without a hitch and they were back at the office an hour and a half later, escorting Johanson into interrogation, where Tony did his best until his voice was nearly gone. He cursed inwardly since he knew that this would just be another thing his team would tease him about and it was. Even Ducky joined in at making him as miserable as possible while doing his best to get him to break the doctor-ordered silence. Tony had never felt more alone and he couldn't wait for the day to be over.
Since they had read all the letters and had gone through all the recordings by now, there was soon nothing left to do, so Gibbs sent them home with orders to come back early the next day so that they could prepare for Ziva's next meet with their suspect, which he had arranged just minutes before. The last words that Tony heard before the elevator doors closed were Gibbs' "Good work, Ziva, McGee."
His shoulders slumped in despair as he stayed at his desk to complete some of the paperwork still outstanding from their last case since McGee and Ziva had been late in handing in their part, again. Some days he wondered why the hell he was still doing this.