FIC: Line of Sight, part 2
Notes and headers in part 1
At that point, Gibbs and Ziva came back in, as well as Stephen and Joshua. Stephen wore pure black--turtleneck and pants--and Joshua had on jeans and a red silk shirt.
"Do you ever wear color?" Ziva asked as they walked toward interrogation.
Stephen gave her a cool look. "Is it relevant to the investigation?"
She looked a bit taken aback. "You can wait here," she said, nodding to a tiny waiting room.
"No. If you're going to question Joshua, I'm going to observe. Otherwise, we're leaving." Stephen's tone left no room for argument and when Tony glanced at Gibbs, he grimaced but nodded.
Tony, Ziva, and Stephen went into the small observation room; Gibbs and Joshua sat down at the table in the interrogation room. Joshua had his hands folded in front of him--there was a smear of paint on his right index finger, Tony noticed absently.
"How long have you lived in that apartment?" Gibbs asked.
Joshua shrugged. "About two years. Stephen moved in with me about nine months ago and we took both apartments and made them one. Why?"
"When did Drake Francis move in?"
"Shortly after Stephen did, I think. I don't know."
"So he's been living there for a while," Gibbs commented.
"Yeah, I guess." Joshua shrugged. "Why?"
"Your friends said he tended to hang around a bit, kind of made a pest of himself. You never noticed?"
"I noticed he hung around, sure. And Stephen invited him over for dinner once in a while. Honestly, I didn't really pay much attention."
"You didn't notice he'd come over for coffee when you weren't home?"
"Stephen probably told me and I forgot. I didn't know him, and I didn't really care one way or the other."
"You didn't care that he was stalking your lover?" Gibbs asked skeptically.
Joshua's jaw tightened. "I didn't know he was stalking Stephen. Believe me, if I'd known, I would have cared."
"You would have done something, wouldn't you? You're quite the possessive one, from what I've heard." Gibbs sipped his coffee placidly.
"I didn't know," Joshua repeated. "And I don't know who you've heard that from. I don't own Stephen."
"But you don't like it when he flirts with other men."
"Would you like it if your wife flirted with other men?" Joshua retorted. "I know it's not serious."
"Serious enough for you to get jealous over it," Gibbs pointed out.
"It's a game, okay? It's a game we play." Joshu ran his hands through his hair. "It's just a fucking game."
"Like some of the other games you play? The ones that leave marks?" Gibbs asked. "Doesn't sound like that's much fun."
"Oh, for Christ's sake." Joshua groaned. "I have never. Not once. Ever. I have never done something to Stephen he didn't want. Ever."
"You've left him with some pretty serious marks," Gibbs pointed out.
In the observation room, Stephen's hands clenched; Tony wondered why.
"So what, that means I'm violent? Or abusive?" Joshua glared at Gibbs. "Look, Agent Gibbs. I'm not stupid. I know that a lot of abusers say that their victims were asking for it, or that they deserved it. My personal life isn't based around that assumption. What Stephen and I do, we do because we both enjoy it. Why don't you ask him what he thinks?"
"I will," Gibbs said mildly. "Where were you Tuesday night?"
"We've been over this. I was at a fundraiser for Amy. Stephen and I got home around three, maybe a little earlier. I don't really remember." Joshua ran his hands through his hair. "Why does any of this matter?"
"Did you drive?"
"We got a ride with a friend."
"Which friend?"
"Paul. Who your agents have already talked to." Joshua blew out a breath. "I didn't kill Drake," he said, clearly fighting for calm. "I didn't know he was obsessed with Stephen. I didn't know he had cameras in our apartment."
"You use knives in your work, don't you?" Gibbs asked, changing topics.
"I use palette knives. They're dull, you use them for paint, and you can't cut anyone with them. They're not even the right shape."
"Have you ever cut Stephen?"
Stephen cursed under his breath, something fierce and bitter Tony didn't understand. Ziva's eyes widened. "You speak Hebrew?" she asked in surprise.
"Yes. Why?" Stephen looked back at the window.
Joshua looked up at the ceiling. "If I say yes, you'll use it as ammunition against me and see me as a violent sadist who enjoys abusing his lover for fun. If I say no, you won't believe me and you'll still use it against me. What's the point in answering at all?"
"Because I'm asking you," Gibbs said.
"For Christ's sake, Joshua, don't say anything," Stephen muttered.
"Once," Joshua said flatly. "We experimented with it once."
"Didn't like it? Or did you like it too much?" Gibbs asked.
"That is none of your business." Joshua rubbed his hands over his face. "None of this is. If it wasn't for those damned cameras--"
"Which you say you know nothing about."
"I don't go home at night and check my house for surveillance equipment!" Joshua exploded. He slammed his hands down on the table; the sound echoed in the room. "Fuck, I don't even use a computer unless I have to. I didn't have a fucking email account until Stephen pushed me into getting one. I work with canvas and paint, not--whatever the fuck is in those things." He gestured. "How the fuck was I supposed to notice that some psycho had snuck cameras into the place when I didn't even know he was obsessed with my lover to begin with?"
Stephen closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "I'm going to kill you when we get home," he muttered.
To Tony's surprise, Gibbs shrugged and stood up. "I'm sure we'll have more questions later, but for now you're free to go. I would, however, like to talk to Mr. Bond."
"Great." Stephen exhaled and turned to Ziva. "How did you know that was Hebrew?" he asked, almost idly.
"I'm Israeli," she answered. "Why?"
Stephen gave her a small, tight smile and said something Tony couldn't understand, but which made Ziva stare at him in shock. "I'm sure you'll see me in there," he said, leaving the room.
"What was that?" Tony asked, on his way out to show Stephen to interrogation.
Ziva glared at him. "Get a dictionary," she snapped.
Joshua didn't watch; he took a seat in the little waiting room, jiggling his knee impatiently. "This won't take long," Tony said as he left.
"It better not." Joshua looked up at the ceiling, and Tony left quietly.
In contrast to Joshua, Stephen sat quietly at the table, body language still and calm. His hair was down, brushed back behind his shoulders, and his hands were folded on the table in front of him. When Gibbs came in and took a seat, Stephen didn't even blink.
"You had no idea Drake Francis was obsessed with you?" Gibbs asked.
"No."
"He was always hanging around your place, wasn't he? Kept trying to invite himself in?"
"As I told you, I thought he had a crush on me. I didn't encourage it." Stephen's voice was calm, mild; for all Tony knew, he could have been having afternoon tea.
"You didn't know the cameras were there?" Gibbs asked skeptically. "You caught on to where they were pretty quickly."
"I'm an architect, Agent Gibbs. I make my living figuring out angles and lines of sight. No, I didn't know the cameras were there." Stephen shrugged slightly.
"Some of the video from those cameras is pretty disturbing," Gibbs said. "Your lover is pretty vehement that it's all consensual."
"I'm into sado-masochism, Agent Gibbs. Last I checked, that wasn't a crime, barring any outdated sodomy laws on the books. If you'd like to charge me with one of those, I'll be happy to take it to court."
Tony whistled through his teeth. "He's a cool one," he murmured.
"Too cool. There's something under there." Ziva shook her head. "He'll break."
"You think so? Or are you just pissed at whatever he said?"
She glared at him.
"Sado-masochism to the extent of being cut?" Gibbs asked. "That's pretty extreme."
"Is that a crime, Agent Gibbs?"
Gibbs shrugged. "Just seems to me that a man capable of hurting you the way he does would also be capable of violence against someone else."
Tony thought they were going to get a reaction out of Stephen from that one, but he just brushed a lock of hair back from his face and folded his hands again. "If you saw the scenes, you also what happens before and after them," he said calmly. "Yes, there's pain involved, but I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of the endorphin rush and the way pain can become pleasure. I highly doubt you've been in law enforcement this long and not come across it before, or experienced it to some extent. I'd be happy to give you a crash course in S&M, Agent Gibbs, but that's not why we're here."
"What time did you and Joshua get home after the fundraiser?" Gibbs asked abruptly.
"I didn't have my watch on, but I think it was around two-thirty, maybe a little later. Paul would be able to tell you what time he dropped us off."
"You didn't have your watch on because it was missing, right? How did you not notice?"
"I have two watches. The one Joshua gave me I wear as a dress watch. We were in a hurry and I didn't think about it until we got there and I realized I didn't have a watch on. I didn't realize my Star was missing, for that matter, or my pen. And to forestall your next question, even if I had realized, I wouldn't have thought Drake took them."
"Why not?" Gibbs asked.
Stephen shrugged. "He seemed harmless enough. A little clingy, and I didn't feel comfortable having him around the apartment much."
"Because Joshua might find out?"
"Because I like solitude, Agent Gibbs, and while I liked Drake's company in small doses I didn't particularly want him around all the time." Stephen brushed a lock of hair back again.
"Are you sure coffee was all you and Drake had?" Gibbs asked. "You wouldn't be the first man to step out on his lover like that."
"Are you speaking from personal experience?" Stephen countered evenly. "If you have the videos, Agent Gibbs, you know that I don't sleep with anyone but Joshua. And I wouldn't go to Drake's apartment for an affair, either. Feel free to investigate, if you think otherwise, but you'll waste your time and money doing so. I don't know about you--but when I'm involved with someone, I stay faithful to him."
Tony winced. "Ouch," he whispered.
"So you have no idea who killed Drake Francis," Gibbs said, leaning back in his chair. "You lived above the man, you knew him, and you have no idea?"
"No. He wasn't involved with anyone that I knew of and I didn't know much about his work. I'd recommend looking there." Stephen shrugged. "But it wasn't me, and it wasn't Joshua. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Gibbs eyed him for a moment, then stood up. "No. Not at this time. We'll be in touch."
Stephen rose to his feet gracefully. "I'm sure you will."
"I'm going to follow him outside," Tony murmured to Ziva. "I have a hunch."
She blinked, but shrugged. "Your call."
Tony slipped outside after the two of them, hanging back and watching as they turned the corner so they weren't quite in public. He wasn't sure what he expected to see, but he had a feeling he'd see something.
Joshua stepped back, watching Stephen carefully. "Okay, babe," he said quietly. "Talk to me."
Stephen growled and spat out a string of words in Hebrew, running his hands through his hair. He shook his head almost violently, snarling something under his breath. "And if you lose your temper like that again in front of someone who's trying to accuse you of murder I'm going to fucking kill you!" he ended, explosively. "Christ, Joshua, don't you know any better?"
"I didn't get arrested, did I?" Joshua pointed out.
"Because they don't have any evidence!" Stephen all-but shouted. "You think you'd be out here if they had one piece of evidence to indicate you killed Drake?"
"They don't have any, and they're not going to get any, because I didn't do it!" Joshua snapped back.
"I know. I know." Stephen sighed and ran his hands through his hair again. "I know." He shook his head. "Let's go home, Joshua."
Joshua slung an arm around his lover's shoulders as they walked off.
Okay. That had been interesting. And a pretty good indication that both of them were innocent. Question was, who was guilty?
"DiNozzo, where the hell were you?" Gibbs barked when he came back in.
"Following our two guests out of the building." Tony sighed. "I don't think either of them did it, Boss."
"You think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs glared at him. "Find me who did!" He stalked out of the bullpen, heading up the stairs.
"Thwarted girlfriend? Co-worker?" Tony offered to Ziva.
"Stephen said he didn't have a girlfriend, and given Drake's obsession, I'd tend to agree. Gibbs and I talked to Christina, and she said that she didn't know of anyone special in Drake's life." Ziva shrugged. "She seemed pretty upset, but I couldn't quite figure out whether it was over Francis being killed or whether she was upset over her project being destroyed."
"Have we even figured out what that's about?" Tony asked in exasperation.
"Somewhat. Surveilance cameras, definitely, and videos. I think it had to do with terrorist cells and ways to get information, but I'm not entirely certain. No one at the DoD is talking and Morales only said it was a highly technical research project." Ziva sighed. "And she didn't seem to know anything about Stephen."
"It's weird," Tony said, leaning against the wall. "Given how obsessed Drake was, you'd think he'd have talked to someone."
"Well, someone came over for coffee," Abby said, walking into the bullpen. She handed Tony a printout of the picture. "Day before the murder, three of them having coffee in the apartment. Stephen, Drake, and--"
"That's Drake's co-worker," Ziva said, tapping the picture. "Christina Morales. But she said she didn't know Stephen."
"To quote Gibbs--everybody lies," Tony said wryly. "Let's go find out what else the lovely Ms. Morales is hiding."
Christina Morales was not at work. "She called in sick today," her supervisor said. "I guess she's still upset over Drake. Poor boy."
Tony didn't feel like enlightening the woman. "They were more than co-workers?" he asked.
"Well, no, not that I know of." The plump woman turned away from her keyboard, spreading ringless hands. "And there was some professional discord going on--Drake had just received a commendation for a project, and Christina felt she should have gotten at least half the credit. It wasn't up to me, and I told her that if she felt that way, she needed to take it up with the project managers."
"Wait--wasn't the credit shared on that project?" Tony asked in confusion. "Dr...St. Clair?"
Dr. St. Clair shook her head. "No, not at all. Both Christina and Drake worked on it, but in the end the technical details were his and so he received the commendation on his record. The lab as a whole would benefit, but personally it went on Drake's record, not Christina's."
"She didn't mention any of this to us," Ziva murmured. "Do you know how she felt about Drake personally?" she asked the woman.
"Not entirely. I think she would have been interested, if he'd asked her out on a date, but he never did." The woman shrugged again. "Then again, Drake wasn't exactly straight. I know, don't ask don't tell. I didn't ask, but Drake told. He mentioned a couple of times that there was this young man he was interested in."
"Did Christina know about him?" Tony asked.
"Oh, she'd have had to. She and Drake worked together on a daily basis. They were my best team. Drake was a genius with electronics." Dr. St. Clair smiled a little. "There wasn't much he couldn't do."
"Yeah. We're getting that impression." Tony gave her a grin. "Thanks."
"Professional jealousy and personal resentment," Ziva said once they were in the car again. "An explosive mix."
"Could be she wanted Drake to herself," Tony commented. "Let's go visit Dr. Morales at home."
"I--I wasn't feeling well," Christina said, nervously twisting her hands together. "Marie--Dr. St. Clair--said I could take the day."
"Sure, we understand." Tony grinned. "You and Drake were friends, weren't you?"
"Y-yes. Mostly." Christina let them into the small apartment, which was neat as a pin. A pile of scientific journals sat on a glass-topped coffee table and there was a laptop computer set up on a table nearby. "I mean, he wasn't interested in me. In women in general," she added hastily. "I wasn't--I wasn't going to tell, you know, but...he talked about this guy he knew. Said he was special."
"Did you ever meet this guy?" Tony asked easily.
"N-no." Christina's eyes darted away. "Drake just talked about him."
"Really." Tony smiled. "That's kind of interesting, Christina, because it looks like you were at his apartment the day before Drake was killed." He took the picture out of his pocket and showed it to her.
Ziva shook her head. "I think you might want to come in and talk to us," she said briskly.
Christina looked between the two of them almost frantically. She pulled herself together, standing straight, and nodded. "All right," she said in a resigned voice. "Let's go."
In the end, it was easy. Christina shook her head to a lawyer, just requested some water.
"What happened, Dr. Morales?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"It wasn't like I meant it," she said. "Just--" She hesitated, looking like she couldn't say it.
"What happened?" Gibbs asked again, gently.
"I was so angry," Christina said in the interrogation room, looking down at her hands. "So angry--that project was my work. My brainchild. And he was going to get the credit. And on top of that--" She shook her head. "It wasn't that I was in love with him. But I couldn't stand how--how obsessed he was with this guy, who didn't even know or deserve him--" She bit her lip. "I went over there, that night--it was late, and I thought I'd talk to him. I couldn't sleep, and I knew he was a night owl. I thought maybe I could convince him to talk to the PMs, give me credit on the project. I got there, and he was watching these recordings--"
Her face twisted in disgust. "He'd taken materials from our lab and used them to become a sick Peeping Tom, you know? And he laughed at me. He told me that the project was his idea, and he was going to get the commendation, and no one would believe me because he was the electronics genius. And--he told me that he was watching the recordings to get proof that Joshua was abusing Stephen, because Stephen belonged with someone who would take care of him. Not some starving artist who liked to play with whips, to put it the way he did."
Christina looked down at her hands again. "I got so angry--just over everything--and I grabbed the knife out of his knife block. And I stabbed him, and again, and he fell down, and I just...kept stabbing him until he stopped moving. I wiped off the handle and I went to his computer and I made copies of the work data and the new stuff he was working on. And I left. I was wearing black, and I'd driven, so...there wasn't much blood to see."
"Did you know Drake was stalking Stephen before that night?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"No. I knew Drake was interested, but he didn't even tell me Stephen had a partner until that day he brought me over for coffee. And I didn't realize how--how obsessed he was until I saw his computer. He didn't have stuff all over his apartment. He was careful." Christina sighed. "He would have killed one of them, I think," she said meditatively. "Either Joshua, so he could have Stephen, or Stephen, because he couldn't have him."
Tony had to agree.
Interrogation over, Christina was led away for booking and processing, and Tony was left in the bullpen, typing up his report. "It's weird," he said, almost to himself.
"What's weird, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked from across the room.
Tony pushed out of his chair and walked over to him. "We followed the leads we had, and that led us to Joshua and Stephen. But I can't help..." He sighed. "I kind of liked them, Boss. And now we've got six months of their lives on computer."
"Nothing we can do about that, Tony." Gibbs looked up at him. "I don't like it either, but that's evidence."
"Yeah." Tony sighed. "I know. Just saying."
"I know." Gibbs leaned back in his chair. "But there's nothing we can do."
Unfortunately, he was right. Tony sighed and went back to his desk. Maybe Abby could encode the data somehow so that no one could read it without some sort of password or something. In the meantime, he needed to finish his report and he had a date to meet at seven.
But he'd personally make the trip to give Stephen Bond his possessions back. The man deserved that much. They couldn't give him back six months of privacy, but they could give him back the tangible items Drake Francis had taken.
It wasn't much, but it was something.
At that point, Gibbs and Ziva came back in, as well as Stephen and Joshua. Stephen wore pure black--turtleneck and pants--and Joshua had on jeans and a red silk shirt.
"Do you ever wear color?" Ziva asked as they walked toward interrogation.
Stephen gave her a cool look. "Is it relevant to the investigation?"
She looked a bit taken aback. "You can wait here," she said, nodding to a tiny waiting room.
"No. If you're going to question Joshua, I'm going to observe. Otherwise, we're leaving." Stephen's tone left no room for argument and when Tony glanced at Gibbs, he grimaced but nodded.
Tony, Ziva, and Stephen went into the small observation room; Gibbs and Joshua sat down at the table in the interrogation room. Joshua had his hands folded in front of him--there was a smear of paint on his right index finger, Tony noticed absently.
"How long have you lived in that apartment?" Gibbs asked.
Joshua shrugged. "About two years. Stephen moved in with me about nine months ago and we took both apartments and made them one. Why?"
"When did Drake Francis move in?"
"Shortly after Stephen did, I think. I don't know."
"So he's been living there for a while," Gibbs commented.
"Yeah, I guess." Joshua shrugged. "Why?"
"Your friends said he tended to hang around a bit, kind of made a pest of himself. You never noticed?"
"I noticed he hung around, sure. And Stephen invited him over for dinner once in a while. Honestly, I didn't really pay much attention."
"You didn't notice he'd come over for coffee when you weren't home?"
"Stephen probably told me and I forgot. I didn't know him, and I didn't really care one way or the other."
"You didn't care that he was stalking your lover?" Gibbs asked skeptically.
Joshua's jaw tightened. "I didn't know he was stalking Stephen. Believe me, if I'd known, I would have cared."
"You would have done something, wouldn't you? You're quite the possessive one, from what I've heard." Gibbs sipped his coffee placidly.
"I didn't know," Joshua repeated. "And I don't know who you've heard that from. I don't own Stephen."
"But you don't like it when he flirts with other men."
"Would you like it if your wife flirted with other men?" Joshua retorted. "I know it's not serious."
"Serious enough for you to get jealous over it," Gibbs pointed out.
"It's a game, okay? It's a game we play." Joshu ran his hands through his hair. "It's just a fucking game."
"Like some of the other games you play? The ones that leave marks?" Gibbs asked. "Doesn't sound like that's much fun."
"Oh, for Christ's sake." Joshua groaned. "I have never. Not once. Ever. I have never done something to Stephen he didn't want. Ever."
"You've left him with some pretty serious marks," Gibbs pointed out.
In the observation room, Stephen's hands clenched; Tony wondered why.
"So what, that means I'm violent? Or abusive?" Joshua glared at Gibbs. "Look, Agent Gibbs. I'm not stupid. I know that a lot of abusers say that their victims were asking for it, or that they deserved it. My personal life isn't based around that assumption. What Stephen and I do, we do because we both enjoy it. Why don't you ask him what he thinks?"
"I will," Gibbs said mildly. "Where were you Tuesday night?"
"We've been over this. I was at a fundraiser for Amy. Stephen and I got home around three, maybe a little earlier. I don't really remember." Joshua ran his hands through his hair. "Why does any of this matter?"
"Did you drive?"
"We got a ride with a friend."
"Which friend?"
"Paul. Who your agents have already talked to." Joshua blew out a breath. "I didn't kill Drake," he said, clearly fighting for calm. "I didn't know he was obsessed with Stephen. I didn't know he had cameras in our apartment."
"You use knives in your work, don't you?" Gibbs asked, changing topics.
"I use palette knives. They're dull, you use them for paint, and you can't cut anyone with them. They're not even the right shape."
"Have you ever cut Stephen?"
Stephen cursed under his breath, something fierce and bitter Tony didn't understand. Ziva's eyes widened. "You speak Hebrew?" she asked in surprise.
"Yes. Why?" Stephen looked back at the window.
Joshua looked up at the ceiling. "If I say yes, you'll use it as ammunition against me and see me as a violent sadist who enjoys abusing his lover for fun. If I say no, you won't believe me and you'll still use it against me. What's the point in answering at all?"
"Because I'm asking you," Gibbs said.
"For Christ's sake, Joshua, don't say anything," Stephen muttered.
"Once," Joshua said flatly. "We experimented with it once."
"Didn't like it? Or did you like it too much?" Gibbs asked.
"That is none of your business." Joshua rubbed his hands over his face. "None of this is. If it wasn't for those damned cameras--"
"Which you say you know nothing about."
"I don't go home at night and check my house for surveillance equipment!" Joshua exploded. He slammed his hands down on the table; the sound echoed in the room. "Fuck, I don't even use a computer unless I have to. I didn't have a fucking email account until Stephen pushed me into getting one. I work with canvas and paint, not--whatever the fuck is in those things." He gestured. "How the fuck was I supposed to notice that some psycho had snuck cameras into the place when I didn't even know he was obsessed with my lover to begin with?"
Stephen closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "I'm going to kill you when we get home," he muttered.
To Tony's surprise, Gibbs shrugged and stood up. "I'm sure we'll have more questions later, but for now you're free to go. I would, however, like to talk to Mr. Bond."
"Great." Stephen exhaled and turned to Ziva. "How did you know that was Hebrew?" he asked, almost idly.
"I'm Israeli," she answered. "Why?"
Stephen gave her a small, tight smile and said something Tony couldn't understand, but which made Ziva stare at him in shock. "I'm sure you'll see me in there," he said, leaving the room.
"What was that?" Tony asked, on his way out to show Stephen to interrogation.
Ziva glared at him. "Get a dictionary," she snapped.
Joshua didn't watch; he took a seat in the little waiting room, jiggling his knee impatiently. "This won't take long," Tony said as he left.
"It better not." Joshua looked up at the ceiling, and Tony left quietly.
In contrast to Joshua, Stephen sat quietly at the table, body language still and calm. His hair was down, brushed back behind his shoulders, and his hands were folded on the table in front of him. When Gibbs came in and took a seat, Stephen didn't even blink.
"You had no idea Drake Francis was obsessed with you?" Gibbs asked.
"No."
"He was always hanging around your place, wasn't he? Kept trying to invite himself in?"
"As I told you, I thought he had a crush on me. I didn't encourage it." Stephen's voice was calm, mild; for all Tony knew, he could have been having afternoon tea.
"You didn't know the cameras were there?" Gibbs asked skeptically. "You caught on to where they were pretty quickly."
"I'm an architect, Agent Gibbs. I make my living figuring out angles and lines of sight. No, I didn't know the cameras were there." Stephen shrugged slightly.
"Some of the video from those cameras is pretty disturbing," Gibbs said. "Your lover is pretty vehement that it's all consensual."
"I'm into sado-masochism, Agent Gibbs. Last I checked, that wasn't a crime, barring any outdated sodomy laws on the books. If you'd like to charge me with one of those, I'll be happy to take it to court."
Tony whistled through his teeth. "He's a cool one," he murmured.
"Too cool. There's something under there." Ziva shook her head. "He'll break."
"You think so? Or are you just pissed at whatever he said?"
She glared at him.
"Sado-masochism to the extent of being cut?" Gibbs asked. "That's pretty extreme."
"Is that a crime, Agent Gibbs?"
Gibbs shrugged. "Just seems to me that a man capable of hurting you the way he does would also be capable of violence against someone else."
Tony thought they were going to get a reaction out of Stephen from that one, but he just brushed a lock of hair back from his face and folded his hands again. "If you saw the scenes, you also what happens before and after them," he said calmly. "Yes, there's pain involved, but I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of the endorphin rush and the way pain can become pleasure. I highly doubt you've been in law enforcement this long and not come across it before, or experienced it to some extent. I'd be happy to give you a crash course in S&M, Agent Gibbs, but that's not why we're here."
"What time did you and Joshua get home after the fundraiser?" Gibbs asked abruptly.
"I didn't have my watch on, but I think it was around two-thirty, maybe a little later. Paul would be able to tell you what time he dropped us off."
"You didn't have your watch on because it was missing, right? How did you not notice?"
"I have two watches. The one Joshua gave me I wear as a dress watch. We were in a hurry and I didn't think about it until we got there and I realized I didn't have a watch on. I didn't realize my Star was missing, for that matter, or my pen. And to forestall your next question, even if I had realized, I wouldn't have thought Drake took them."
"Why not?" Gibbs asked.
Stephen shrugged. "He seemed harmless enough. A little clingy, and I didn't feel comfortable having him around the apartment much."
"Because Joshua might find out?"
"Because I like solitude, Agent Gibbs, and while I liked Drake's company in small doses I didn't particularly want him around all the time." Stephen brushed a lock of hair back again.
"Are you sure coffee was all you and Drake had?" Gibbs asked. "You wouldn't be the first man to step out on his lover like that."
"Are you speaking from personal experience?" Stephen countered evenly. "If you have the videos, Agent Gibbs, you know that I don't sleep with anyone but Joshua. And I wouldn't go to Drake's apartment for an affair, either. Feel free to investigate, if you think otherwise, but you'll waste your time and money doing so. I don't know about you--but when I'm involved with someone, I stay faithful to him."
Tony winced. "Ouch," he whispered.
"So you have no idea who killed Drake Francis," Gibbs said, leaning back in his chair. "You lived above the man, you knew him, and you have no idea?"
"No. He wasn't involved with anyone that I knew of and I didn't know much about his work. I'd recommend looking there." Stephen shrugged. "But it wasn't me, and it wasn't Joshua. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Gibbs eyed him for a moment, then stood up. "No. Not at this time. We'll be in touch."
Stephen rose to his feet gracefully. "I'm sure you will."
"I'm going to follow him outside," Tony murmured to Ziva. "I have a hunch."
She blinked, but shrugged. "Your call."
Tony slipped outside after the two of them, hanging back and watching as they turned the corner so they weren't quite in public. He wasn't sure what he expected to see, but he had a feeling he'd see something.
Joshua stepped back, watching Stephen carefully. "Okay, babe," he said quietly. "Talk to me."
Stephen growled and spat out a string of words in Hebrew, running his hands through his hair. He shook his head almost violently, snarling something under his breath. "And if you lose your temper like that again in front of someone who's trying to accuse you of murder I'm going to fucking kill you!" he ended, explosively. "Christ, Joshua, don't you know any better?"
"I didn't get arrested, did I?" Joshua pointed out.
"Because they don't have any evidence!" Stephen all-but shouted. "You think you'd be out here if they had one piece of evidence to indicate you killed Drake?"
"They don't have any, and they're not going to get any, because I didn't do it!" Joshua snapped back.
"I know. I know." Stephen sighed and ran his hands through his hair again. "I know." He shook his head. "Let's go home, Joshua."
Joshua slung an arm around his lover's shoulders as they walked off.
Okay. That had been interesting. And a pretty good indication that both of them were innocent. Question was, who was guilty?
"DiNozzo, where the hell were you?" Gibbs barked when he came back in.
"Following our two guests out of the building." Tony sighed. "I don't think either of them did it, Boss."
"You think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs glared at him. "Find me who did!" He stalked out of the bullpen, heading up the stairs.
"Thwarted girlfriend? Co-worker?" Tony offered to Ziva.
"Stephen said he didn't have a girlfriend, and given Drake's obsession, I'd tend to agree. Gibbs and I talked to Christina, and she said that she didn't know of anyone special in Drake's life." Ziva shrugged. "She seemed pretty upset, but I couldn't quite figure out whether it was over Francis being killed or whether she was upset over her project being destroyed."
"Have we even figured out what that's about?" Tony asked in exasperation.
"Somewhat. Surveilance cameras, definitely, and videos. I think it had to do with terrorist cells and ways to get information, but I'm not entirely certain. No one at the DoD is talking and Morales only said it was a highly technical research project." Ziva sighed. "And she didn't seem to know anything about Stephen."
"It's weird," Tony said, leaning against the wall. "Given how obsessed Drake was, you'd think he'd have talked to someone."
"Well, someone came over for coffee," Abby said, walking into the bullpen. She handed Tony a printout of the picture. "Day before the murder, three of them having coffee in the apartment. Stephen, Drake, and--"
"That's Drake's co-worker," Ziva said, tapping the picture. "Christina Morales. But she said she didn't know Stephen."
"To quote Gibbs--everybody lies," Tony said wryly. "Let's go find out what else the lovely Ms. Morales is hiding."
Christina Morales was not at work. "She called in sick today," her supervisor said. "I guess she's still upset over Drake. Poor boy."
Tony didn't feel like enlightening the woman. "They were more than co-workers?" he asked.
"Well, no, not that I know of." The plump woman turned away from her keyboard, spreading ringless hands. "And there was some professional discord going on--Drake had just received a commendation for a project, and Christina felt she should have gotten at least half the credit. It wasn't up to me, and I told her that if she felt that way, she needed to take it up with the project managers."
"Wait--wasn't the credit shared on that project?" Tony asked in confusion. "Dr...St. Clair?"
Dr. St. Clair shook her head. "No, not at all. Both Christina and Drake worked on it, but in the end the technical details were his and so he received the commendation on his record. The lab as a whole would benefit, but personally it went on Drake's record, not Christina's."
"She didn't mention any of this to us," Ziva murmured. "Do you know how she felt about Drake personally?" she asked the woman.
"Not entirely. I think she would have been interested, if he'd asked her out on a date, but he never did." The woman shrugged again. "Then again, Drake wasn't exactly straight. I know, don't ask don't tell. I didn't ask, but Drake told. He mentioned a couple of times that there was this young man he was interested in."
"Did Christina know about him?" Tony asked.
"Oh, she'd have had to. She and Drake worked together on a daily basis. They were my best team. Drake was a genius with electronics." Dr. St. Clair smiled a little. "There wasn't much he couldn't do."
"Yeah. We're getting that impression." Tony gave her a grin. "Thanks."
"Professional jealousy and personal resentment," Ziva said once they were in the car again. "An explosive mix."
"Could be she wanted Drake to herself," Tony commented. "Let's go visit Dr. Morales at home."
"I--I wasn't feeling well," Christina said, nervously twisting her hands together. "Marie--Dr. St. Clair--said I could take the day."
"Sure, we understand." Tony grinned. "You and Drake were friends, weren't you?"
"Y-yes. Mostly." Christina let them into the small apartment, which was neat as a pin. A pile of scientific journals sat on a glass-topped coffee table and there was a laptop computer set up on a table nearby. "I mean, he wasn't interested in me. In women in general," she added hastily. "I wasn't--I wasn't going to tell, you know, but...he talked about this guy he knew. Said he was special."
"Did you ever meet this guy?" Tony asked easily.
"N-no." Christina's eyes darted away. "Drake just talked about him."
"Really." Tony smiled. "That's kind of interesting, Christina, because it looks like you were at his apartment the day before Drake was killed." He took the picture out of his pocket and showed it to her.
Ziva shook her head. "I think you might want to come in and talk to us," she said briskly.
Christina looked between the two of them almost frantically. She pulled herself together, standing straight, and nodded. "All right," she said in a resigned voice. "Let's go."
In the end, it was easy. Christina shook her head to a lawyer, just requested some water.
"What happened, Dr. Morales?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"It wasn't like I meant it," she said. "Just--" She hesitated, looking like she couldn't say it.
"What happened?" Gibbs asked again, gently.
"I was so angry," Christina said in the interrogation room, looking down at her hands. "So angry--that project was my work. My brainchild. And he was going to get the credit. And on top of that--" She shook her head. "It wasn't that I was in love with him. But I couldn't stand how--how obsessed he was with this guy, who didn't even know or deserve him--" She bit her lip. "I went over there, that night--it was late, and I thought I'd talk to him. I couldn't sleep, and I knew he was a night owl. I thought maybe I could convince him to talk to the PMs, give me credit on the project. I got there, and he was watching these recordings--"
Her face twisted in disgust. "He'd taken materials from our lab and used them to become a sick Peeping Tom, you know? And he laughed at me. He told me that the project was his idea, and he was going to get the commendation, and no one would believe me because he was the electronics genius. And--he told me that he was watching the recordings to get proof that Joshua was abusing Stephen, because Stephen belonged with someone who would take care of him. Not some starving artist who liked to play with whips, to put it the way he did."
Christina looked down at her hands again. "I got so angry--just over everything--and I grabbed the knife out of his knife block. And I stabbed him, and again, and he fell down, and I just...kept stabbing him until he stopped moving. I wiped off the handle and I went to his computer and I made copies of the work data and the new stuff he was working on. And I left. I was wearing black, and I'd driven, so...there wasn't much blood to see."
"Did you know Drake was stalking Stephen before that night?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"No. I knew Drake was interested, but he didn't even tell me Stephen had a partner until that day he brought me over for coffee. And I didn't realize how--how obsessed he was until I saw his computer. He didn't have stuff all over his apartment. He was careful." Christina sighed. "He would have killed one of them, I think," she said meditatively. "Either Joshua, so he could have Stephen, or Stephen, because he couldn't have him."
Tony had to agree.
Interrogation over, Christina was led away for booking and processing, and Tony was left in the bullpen, typing up his report. "It's weird," he said, almost to himself.
"What's weird, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked from across the room.
Tony pushed out of his chair and walked over to him. "We followed the leads we had, and that led us to Joshua and Stephen. But I can't help..." He sighed. "I kind of liked them, Boss. And now we've got six months of their lives on computer."
"Nothing we can do about that, Tony." Gibbs looked up at him. "I don't like it either, but that's evidence."
"Yeah." Tony sighed. "I know. Just saying."
"I know." Gibbs leaned back in his chair. "But there's nothing we can do."
Unfortunately, he was right. Tony sighed and went back to his desk. Maybe Abby could encode the data somehow so that no one could read it without some sort of password or something. In the meantime, he needed to finish his report and he had a date to meet at seven.
But he'd personally make the trip to give Stephen Bond his possessions back. The man deserved that much. They couldn't give him back six months of privacy, but they could give him back the tangible items Drake Francis had taken.
It wasn't much, but it was something.