Title: Stranger Than Fiction

Written for the Death Fic Challenge (maybe)

Rating: FR 15

Multi-Chapter (5 or 6, I guess, maybe more)

Characters: The usual suspects and a couple of OCs.

Genre: Angst/Supernatural. I borrowed a minor "character" from Supernatural, but nothing that won't be explained in the fic at some point. It's not a crossover.

Warnings: Language, violence, some dark humor and character death (as much as there is "character death" in my other fics but I figured I'd better put that in there anyway). Season 8ish, well before the arrival of Team Mary Sue.

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda

Summary: A sniper's bullet changes the lives of the team in a way none of them expected.

I know, I know, I have other things to be working on, but I've been thinking of this fic for a while, and for some reason my muse was suddenly in the mood to kill somebody. There's no arguing with her when she gets like that.

It's not that I'm afraid to die, I just don't want to be there when it happens.

– Woody Allen

Chapter 1

It looked like it was going to be a beautiful late summer day, the kind of day that made Tony DiNozzo want to lower the roof on his convertible (if he actually had one), drive to the beach, catch some rays and oogle the bikini-clad natives while drinking a cold beer and enjoying life. Instead he was stuck inside with a mountain of paperwork and over three days until the weekend, with no real break in sight. He decided to vent some of his frustration in his usual manner, which involved taking it out on his co-workers, and one in particular.

"Hey, Probie," he said loudly and in McGee's direction. "Having any luck?"

McGee closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to glare at the Senior Agent. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Oh, sorry, Pro-o-o-bie," he taunted, drawing the name out mockingly and giving McGee one of his trademark grins. "What should be calling you, McGeek?"

McGee sighed. "Preferably not that, either. And no, I'm not having any luck, especially when someone keeps interrupting me. Don't you have your own work to do?"

"Just taking a break, Timmy. Stretching those brain-muscles, keeps them limber." McGee just ignored him and Tony winced inwardly. Too angry to even get a dig in. I guess this case is getting on everyone's nerves.

"Keep telling yourself that, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he marched past Tony's desk.

Ah, there we go. "Sorry, Boss."

"Does anyone have anything for me on the case?"

"Sergeant Striker's financials don't raise any red flags, Boss," replied McGee. "Nothing you'd expect for savings or checking accounts according to his salary and pay stubs. No safe deposit boxes on record, or evidence of other accounts." He glanced up at Gibbs after reciting what he had. "I'll keep looking."

"Ziva?"

"No reports of marital strife or other problems with his immediate family. No indications of infidelity, either."

"DiNozzo?"

"Sergeant Strike was well liked in his unit, no reports of problems. They appear to be genuinely concerned about his disappearance."

"'Appear'?"

"No indications that they're lying, Boss."

"So basically, you have nothing."

Further ranting was interrupted by the ringing of McGee's desk phone, which he quickly answered.

"McGee. Yes? Yes, I remember…Ok. I understand. Thank you." He hung up the phone and looked up at Gibbs. "That was Michael Asher, Sergeant Striker's brother-in-law. Apparently the sergeant left his laptop with Asher to fix it and he says he found something that might interest us."

"Fine. DiNozzo, go with McGee to see Asher and then the two of you can re-interview Striker's unit. We're missing something."

"On it, Boss."

XXX

Michael Asher gazed up at his attacker in horror as the black-clad and masked man placed the phone back in its cradle. He was pretty sure he had just done a terrible thing, but he couldn't help it. He had been scared out of his mind that the man intended to kill him, why he couldn't even begin to guess. When the man had told him that all he needed to do was make a simple phone call, he had been relieved, until the significance of the call worked its way through his brain.

"What are you going to do? To that agent?"

"That's not your concern."

"But…I'm an accessory! I called him to get him here."

"And you played your part well. You have no idea how many people you've saved."

"How can I have saved anyone? He's a federal agent, one of the good guys!"

The man shook his head. "No, trust me. He's not. Now, I promise I won't hurt you, but I can't have you warning him, either. Sorry about this." The man placed a strip of duct tape over Asher's mouth and a blindfold over his eyes. Asher felt himself being lifted and then carried a short distance. He was then lowered (surprisingly gently) to the floor and a few seconds later he heard a door shut. He leaned back and fought the sob that rose from his throat.

I'm so sorry…

XXX

Tony glanced over at McGee and saw that the younger man's eyes were closed. He grinned, reached over and flipped the volume switch on the radio and was rewarded with a blast of sound from the speakers. McGee jumped slightly and turned to shoot him a dirty look.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Just keeping you on your toes, Probie."

"Right…" He turned to stare straight ahead and Tony lowered the volume again.

"So, this Michael Asher. Do you think he's legit?"

"Sounded sincere. A little nervous, maybe, but that could have to do with what he found."

"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it will be another dead end. This case is weird, you know."

"How is it any weirder than our normal case load?"

"People don't tend to disappear for no reason, and we haven't found any reason for Striker to vanish. As Abby would say, it's hinky."

"I suppose. Or maybe we just haven't found the reason yet, hence the trip to see Asher."

"And to re-interview his unit. That's not going to be fun."

"No, probably not."

"I can't wait for this day to be over. Must be a Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays." He glanced at McGee and grinned, waiting for him to catch the reference.

"It's Tuesday."

"Yeah, McGee, I know. It's a quote…from a movie?"

"Actually, it was used in the book first."

"Haven't read it."

"Not surprised," muttered McGee.

"Yeah, well, print is dead. Deader than our missing Marine probably is right now."

McGee shot him a strange look. "What makes you say that?"

"Isn't that how these things usually end up?"

"If you say so. But until we see the body, we keep looking. Isn't that what Gibbs would say?"

"Yeah, probably." Tony guided the sedan to the curb a few doors past the address McGee had given him. "Looks like we're here. Let's go."

XXX

The sniper waited across the street as his target exited the vehicle and walked towards the store front. He swore softly when he saw the other man, realizing that his job would be made much harder by his presence, but it was too late to back down now. He had a job to do, one that he had done many times before. Usually it was more up close and personal than this, but the situation warranted caution. Killing a federal agent would bring down a lot of heat, and he had to be able to get away quickly. He had prepared for the difficulty, and he was ready.

He watched the target move to the front door of the shop and when looked at the agent through his high powered scope, he could almost see the threads in the fabric of the man's dress shirt. He waited, his finger on the trigger, for the man to turn and allow the hollow-point bullet direct access to his heart. Finally, the man turned, presenting the perfect opportunity and he pulled the trigger at the end of his exhalation. Before the sound of the shot finished echoing through the surrounding buildings, he was packing up and leaving his nest, careful to make sure he had left no evidence behind.

He knew his shot had been true: they always were; the result of years of training, both legitimate and not. One more true shot and one less sick bastard to worry about in this world, and that gave him a warm feeling as he rushed down the narrow steps to the basement garage. He quickly stowed his rifle, climbed in the truck and started the engine. After he had left the garage, with its entrance on the far side of the building from the address where his target had been, he glanced up at the broken security cameras and smiled. NCIS was good, but they relied too much on technology. They'd be chasing their tails while he disappeared back into the woodwork.

He flipped on the radio and had to grin as the strains of Queen's Another One Bites the Dust came through the speakers. He tapped his fingers in time to the music and turned his mind to his next task. He had one more thing to do before this job was done for good. He just hoped he would be able to accomplish it.

XXX

Gibbs searched through the report in front of him, hoping to catch something he missed before. There was something about this case that was bothering him, and when his gut told him something, he knew better than to ignore it. He just hoped this last bit of potential information that McGee was investigating would prove useful.

His phone rang and paused before answering it, wondering why it had prompted a sudden twisting in his stomach.

"Yeah, Gibbs." Silence. "Hello?"

"It was a trap…"

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs had barely recognized the strained voice as belonging to his normally brash agent. "What do you mean, a trap?"

"The call…from Asher. It was a set up to get us here. There was a sniper waiting for us."

Gibbs heart clenched. "What happened, DiNozzo?" he asked as he grabbed his gun and badge, motioned to Ziva and headed for the elevator.

"One shot…that's all I heard. Just one shot."

"DiNozzo! Focus. Were you hit?"

"No…"

Gibbs had a good idea what was coming next, but he didn't want to believe it.

"Tony, let me talk to McGee."

"Can't, Boss…he's…he's dead. Probie's dead."

TBC…

The movie (and book) Tony references is The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

This will be updated whenever I can and the muse cooperates. Best I can do.