Tony pulled the pillow over his head when the alarm went off. It was a miserable night, and now the sound was pounding against his brain like flash bangs. He wanted to curl up and crawl into a corner, but the alarm insisted he get up. Swiping at the offending object, Tony hauled himself from bed and managed to make his way to the shower. The pounding water didn't ease his tension so Tony cut his shower short, stepped out and over to the basin and wiped the steam from the mirror. He winced at the first pass of the razor, he could have sworn it was almost new, but then just shrugged and pulled another from the cabinet and finished shaving.

Standing in front of his closet a little later, he pulled an Armani suit from the hanger and tried to forget what happened the last time he'd worn anything so expensive. He usually reserved the well-tailored clothes for times he could guarantee he wouldn't be crawling through unidentifiable sludge, but today the thought of anything less against his skin was torture.

He winced again as the doorbell reminded him McGee was playing cab driver today. He had neglected routine maintenance on his car during the recent spate of drop everything cases, now he was forced to bum rides while the car sat in the repair shop suffering from a loss of transmission fluid. He hadn't managed to find the time to pick up a rental either, hence the enforced charity. Although, he acknowledged to himself, he was grateful he didn't have to face the DC traffic with his headache. He swallowed some migraine pills then pulled open the door.

McGee walked in while Tony headed to his room for the badge and gun he'd forgotten.

"Forget to pay the electric bill this month?" McGee asked.

"What? And you don't need to shout," Tony answered.

"There're no lights on at all, and I'm not shouting."

Tony set the alarm and locked the door. Taking the coffee McGee offered, the pair headed to the parking garage.

"I didn't forget to pay the electric bill; it's taken directly from my checking account. All my utilities are, there're too many times I'm on some case when things are due."

Tony spat out the first swig of coffee, coughing. "What's in this? Are you paying me back for something I did I've forgotten about?"

"It's the same thing you always get, - mocha latte with no whipped cream."

"Well, it tastes awful." Tony poured the coffee into a nearby planter and dumped the cup into a trash can.

At McGee's startled gasp, Tony said,, "Sorry, Probie, I guess I'm just not feeling well. I didn't sleep at all last night and everything feels off this morning."

"Do you want me to tell Gibbs you're sick while you head back to bed?"

"No, we have all that paperwork from the Myers case to finish up. I'll see how the day goes."

Tony climbed into the passenger seat of McGee's car, and they pulled out of the garage. Wincing again as the sun hit his eyes; Tony pulled out his sunglasses and leaned back into the seat. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the jackhammer pounding in his head. He dozed, listening to McGee's steady stream of comments about his latest book, his sister, and the date he had scheduled for the next weekend.

"We're here, Tony."

Tony startled from his impromptu nap, climbed out of the car, and followed McGee into the building. Clearing security, he noticed his headache was much better and his eyes seemed back to normal.

"Migraine medicine must be working," he thought.

Booting up his computer, he pulled the Myers file over and started on the first form of the bureaucratic blizzard in triplicate while McGee headed to Abby's lab. The two had worked on Myers' computer and had paperwork of their own to deal with.

Three hours later Tony gave up and headed to the morgue. His headache was back with a vengeance and everything was too bright and too loud, maybe Ducky could give him something.

"Hey Duck, you got any magic potions that will make a headache disappear?"

"That depends, have you taken anything yet?"

"Some Excedrin Migraine before I left home this morning."

"Well, let me check you out a little, and I'll see what I can do. What exactly is wrong?"

"I have jackhammers in my head and everything is too bright. My ears also seem to be acting up. I could swear I'm hearing the receptionist on the first floor directing phone calls."

Ducky checked Tony's blood pressure and looked in his eyes and ears, all the while telling stories.

"You know there was a British explorer, Sir Richard Burton, who wrote about primitive people who had heightened senses. He also translated the Kama Sutra, you know people think the Kama Sutra . . ."

Tony ignored the side story and concentrated on the sound slowly coming nearer. It was a steady thump, thump, and he couldn't figure out what could be causing it.

"Ducky, what's wrong? Tony, are you okay?" McGee sprinted across the morgue and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Is he okay?"

"I'm not sure, Timothy, I can't seem to get his attention."

"Hey, Tony, are you in there?" McGee asked, alternately shaking his shoulder and patting his cheek.

Blinking suddenly Tony jumped a little and batted McGee's hand away.

"Stop it, Probie, what's going on?"

"You were a little out if there, Tony, What happened?"

"I was listening to something I think, and then… What did you need anyway, McGee?" Tony interrupted his train of thought.

~"That was the third time I woke up out of the blue. What's going on? Maybe I should make an appointment with a doctor."~ He was frightened about all the horrific medical things that could cause the symptoms he was experiencing, but pushed it aside at McGee's answer.

"Gibbs wants us all upstairs for something.

Ducky watched the pair head to the elevator, trying to figure out what was nagging in a corner of his brain. Sighing, he returned to his own paperwork for the Myers' case. Maybe he should insist on a full physical for Tony later.

"Where've you been, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded. "I don't have time to waste sending agents to hunt you down." The reprimand was accompanied by the usual head slap.

Tony winced. "Sorry, boss," he whispered. "I asked Ducky for some migraine medicine." He held up the sample packets. "What's up?"

Gibbs eyed Tony for several seconds, but Tony kept his eyes closed against the lights and continued rubbing his temples.

"Ensign Jonathan Douglas has disappeared; he was on shore leave in Cascade, WA. His godfather, Senator Brent Michaels, demanded we head up the investigation. Since Senator Michaels chairs the Armed Forces committee he gets what he asks for. Be at Reagan National airport at 1430."

"Sure, Boss." Gibbs watched all three members of his team head to the elevator, paying special attention to Tony. He was flushed, but pale underneath the unnatural color, and seemed to jump at any sudden sound. The problem had been worsening over the last few weeks, Gibbs realized. Maybe he should insist the kid see a doctor when they returned to DC.