Thank you all for your excitement about the continuation of this story! I really did mean what I said about intermittent posts. I'm doing my best to keep to schedule but life has been a whole lot interesting lately and it's hard to find the time to put all the stories in my head to paper (or in this case, keyboard). Thank you!

Jethro took a deep breath as he pushed through the swinging doors and re-entered the waiting room. His world had changed for worse and perhaps better in the space of ten minutes and he blinked a few times beneath the harsh florescence of the overhead lights, trying to adjust. He immediately noted a new arrival and felt anger which had been bubbling beneath the surface of his worry for Tony suddenly rise as Balboa lifted his head and met his eyes.

"What in the hell happened out there?" Jethro strode over to the younger man who stood to face him. Balboa was a solid agent despite his age and Gibbs doubted whatever had gone wrong during the op had been his doing. He knew where the orders were coming from on this one.

"How is he?" Balboa didn't flinch beneath Gibbs' fury.

"Answer the question."

"I will, just as soon as you tell me whether the man whose blood I still have all over my shirt is gonna live or die." It took balls to stand up to Leroy Jethro Gibbs when he wasn't a raging wall of anger and Balboa was taking his life in his hands. "I know what he is to you, but he's my team, my responsibility."

Jethro blinked, surprised to be met with determination to match his own. He took a deep breath and tried to imagine how he would feel if the circumstances were reversed. "He's still in surgery, but they expect him to make a full recovery." Hearing himself say the words out loud was somehow calming even if they concealed some incredibly important details. "Now tell me."

"FBI blew the call." Balboa shook his head. "They rushed their guys in without even giving Tony a chance. Morrow was screaming in his ear to stand down, but this guy Sacks didn't bother to listen. Didn't bother to think, if you ask me." He gave Gibbs the details. "He's back at NCIS right now trying to blame Tony for dropping the ball, and save his own sorry ass. If it weren't for Morrow, I probably would have punched the guy's lights out."

"Punch him? I'm gonna shoot him." His anger, diminished somewhat only a moment ago, had flared to new life.

Turning from Balboa, Gibbs addressed Ducky and Abby who sat watching him nervously. "Duck, I need you to keep an eye on Tony for me. Anything changes, anything, and I am back in 20 even if I have to run every red light between here and the Navy Yard."

"I won't let anything happen to him, Jethro," the older man promised sincerely.

"Abby, I put a call into Jack. He's on his way, but if you can…" He reached out a hand and brushed the curls back from his daughter's face while she continued to sleep, feeling the edge of grief creep back in for a split second. The rest of the words would not pass the lump in his throat.

"As long as you need me to." Her face softened as she watched him continue to stroke Isabella's cheek. "But don't you dare go all Dark Gibbs, Gibbs. She's got one father who's been shot, she doesn't need another one in jail." Her tone was surprisingly firm.

Gibbs realized she was absolutely right. As much as he wanted to put his fist around the throat of the man responsible for Tony nearly losing his life, the last thing he could afford to be right now was reckless. "I'll trade out the car seat." He leaned in and kissed Abby's forehead before bending to let his lips linger against Isabella's hair for a moment. They would get through this, all of them, and that was all that really mattered tonight.

NCIS Director Tom Morrow glanced toward his closed office doors the moment before they burst open. He'd known this was coming. In fact, he'd expected it before now. He moved quickly to put himself between Gibbs and the two FBI agents who stood in front of his desk.

"That him?" Gibbs snarled around Morrow at Fornell, gesturing toward the only man in the room he was unfamiliar with.

"Agent Gibbs, Agents Fornell and Sacks were just…" Morrow began as patiently as he could.

"I want him hung for this, Director. Of all the reckless, stupid…" He dodged to Morrow's right but was cut off again, the promises he'd made to himself back at the hospital about restraint fleeing at the sight of the man responsible for his current pain and Tony's.

"That's enough, Agent Gibbs." Morrow mustered his most commanding tone. "What is Agent DiNozzo's status?"

Gibbs respected Morrow as much as he respected anyone and the authority in his voice struck at something deep inside him. It was just enough to bring him back into his head a little. "His status? " Jethro spat the word. "His status is that he's lying on his back in an operating room with three different doctors trying to repair the damage that he caused." He lobbed the accusation at Sacks.

"Now hold on just a second, I…" Sacks tried to interject.

"His status is that he's lucky to be alive right now, and so help me, if they dig that bullet out of him and it turns out it came from an FBI gun…"

"ENOUGH!" Fornell finally spoke over the cacophony, shocking Gibbs into momentary silence. "I'm glad to hear Agent DiNozzo will recover and I'm sure Agent Sacks is as well." He looked pointedly at the man to his right.

Gibbs bristled at this but Fornell continued, his posture becoming more informal.

"Listen, Jethro, we all know Sacks screwed the pooch on this one."

"Agent Fornell, I will not…" Sacks once again tried to object.

Fornell simply held up a hand to silence him. "And we all know that statement will never leave this room. The FBI's official statement will be that this was a successful joint operation with one minor casualty who is expected to make a full recovery from his injuries. Unofficially I can personally promise you that Agent Sacks will be disciplined appropriately for his cavalier disregard of Director Morrow's objections during the operation and that he won't be overseeing more than the inside of a cubicle until I'm fully satisfied that he's learned the error of his ways."

"I will not be…" Sacks' jaw had grown tighter as Fornell spoke and he tried to speak once more.

"You will be." Fornell rounded on him. "And you'll be happy about it, because the other option is that I fire your ass right this second and have you escorted from the building. You jumped the gun. You should have given Agent DiNozzo more time to work, and everyone in this room, hell, everyone in the God damn Hoover building, knows it. You almost lost an agent tonight due to your own recklessness. Doesn't matter that he was one of theirs not one of ours."

Sacks was finally silent, though his clenched fists told Gibbs just what he thought of Fornell's assessment of the situation.

Morrow looked between the three men in the room. "Good. I believe that settles things to my satisfaction with one exception." He spoke to Fornell directly. "I would like your personal assurance that, regardless of Agent Sacks' future with the FBI, we will not see him here at NCIS or attached to any future joint operations."

Fornell gave Gibbs an appraising look. "Done. In fact I think, given the circumstances, that might be in everyone's best interests."

Morrow nodded. "If that's all, Agent Gibbs, I think you probably have someplace more important to be right now," he suggested. "I'd appreciate an update on Agent DiNozzo's progress. After you've had time, of course."

Jethro hesitated, but finally nodded in agreement. "He'll be in surgery for a while longer."

"I'm sorry about DiNozzo, Gibbs. He's shaping up to be a good agent. Hope this doesn't take him out for long." Fornell's voice sounded oddly sympathetic. "Don't tell him that came from me though."

"Wouldn't think of it, Tobias." Fornell might be as much of a bastard as he was but Jethro knew sincerity when he heard it.

A smart man knows that there are times when silence is the best course of action. Agent Sacks was clearly not a smart man. "I'm sorry Agent DiNozzo was a minor casualty in this, but I'm sure he knew the risks of the job when he took it. I'm glad none of his injuries were permanent."

That was it. Gibbs snapped, and neither Morrow nor Fornell were quick enough to stop him. Before any of them even realized what was happening, Jethro had Sacks pinned to the wall, forearm pressed up against his throat.

"A minor casualty? You think just because he didn't die, he was a minor casualty?" Jethro was seething now. "He was pregnant, you son of a bitch. Was. And he didn't even know it until it was too late. That's what your inability to supervise this operation cost tonight. You killed a child." He felt Morrow and Fornell pulling at his shoulders and pushed himself away using Sacks' body as leverage. "You killed a child, you bastard. Live with that."

With tears of pain and fury shining in his eyes, he shrugged off the hands holding him back and left the three speechless men standing in his wake as he fled out the office doors and down the stairs.

Tony woke to the to the soft sound of Jethro's voice calling his name somewhere close to his ear. Something vile had crawled inside his mouth and siphoned every ounce of moisture from his tongue, and his eyes felt swollen, sticky, and terribly heavy.

"Hey." His voice was a raw whisper as he forced his eyes open and took in Jethro's care-worn face. "You look like hell," Tony croaked.

Jethro smiled, blue eyes glistening with obvious relief. "Don't look too hot yourself. You remember where you are this time or do we need to argue about it again?"

Tony had some very vague recollections, memories that felt like fever dreams, where Jethro's calm voice explained to him that he'd been shot and was safely out of surgery at Bethesda. If the dull ache on his left side was anything to go by, surely a bare hint filtering through the haze of pain medications, he didn't need Gibbs to tell him that he was going to have one hell of a good scar to remind him of the ordeal. "Can I have some water?"

Reaching for a cup with a straw that sat on the table beside Tony's bed, Gibbs held it to his mouth and let him to take a small sip as he had been instructed to do. It was the first thing they had allowed him by mouth since surgery.

"How long have I been here?" Time was something Tony's fuzzy head had no concept of.

"Been out of surgery a little less than 48 hours. They've kept you out through most of it." He wrapped his fingers around Tony's hand through the rail of the bed.

"And how long have you been here?" Tony squeezed Jethro's hand and held his eyes, trying to stay focused through his cottony brain.

"What do you think?" Gibbs asked quietly. He knew that Tony already knew the answer to his own question.

"I'm sorry, Jethro. I never wanted to put you through this." Tony knew that what had happened wasn't his fault-what he could remember of it anyway-but the thought of Jethro getting that phone call, of him waiting to find out if he was alive or dead…if the shoe was on the other foot it would have brought him to his knees, possibly the edge of his sanity, and he wasn't carrying the same kind of baggage.

Jethro shook his head, lifting Tony's hand up to his lips and holding it there without a word.

"Where's our girl?" He winced as he pushed himself up a little higher on the bed, trying to avoid the tangle of IVs.

"With my dad at the house. And don't even say it," Jethro grunted.

Tony grinned a little despite the warning. Jackson's involvement in their lives was something Jethro had accepted somewhat grudgingly over the last two years and he knew that Bella adored her grandfather to pieces. "I'm glad he could come and help, but you need some rest too."

"'M fine." He said stubbornly despite the fatigue that coursed heavily through his limbs. Tony was alive and talking and his beloved green-eyed smile gave him all the strength he needed.

After helping Tony with a little more water, Jethro struggled to find the words to tell him what he knew needed to be told. He'd begged the hospital staff for this uninterrupted time alone so that he could convey both the loss and the decisions which had been made because of it.

Something dark passed over Jethro's face and Tony began to worry. "What?" he asked. "Is there something you haven't told me? Did someone else get killed in that mess? Everything's okay with Bella isn't it?"

He shook his head, knowing Tony could read him like a book. "She's fine, you're gonna be fine, everyone's okay." The heat behind his eyes was already pressing hard. "There was a…a complication during the surgery."

Tony's eyes grew wide. "Like I'm paralyzed or something?" He wiggled his toes and his fingers feeling a flood of relief when everything seemed to work relatively normally.

"No. Christ, I'm doing this all wrong." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Just tell me. Whatever it is I just…I just wanna know." He didn't want to know. He wanted to know that he was going to go back to his normal life with his family and the job he had grown to love, but there was no avoiding the truth of whatever Gibbs was struggling so hard with.

"There was a baby." Somehow the words found their way out.

"What? I mean, I know we kind of half-talked about the idea of another one somewhere down the line but I thought you said you didn't want to put yourself through it again." His eyes automatically went to Jethro's stomach, but he couldn't help the little thrill of excitement that went through him at the thought. "Wait, aren't we supposed to be talking about me?" He wanted to clear the fog from his head, to make sense of what was being said to him, but understanding would not take hold.

"Not me, Tony. You. When they did the surgery, the doctors…they found out you were…you were pregnant. About three weeks they said." Jethro's thumb worked slowly back and forth over Tony's knuckles.

The hoot of laughter came automatically and burned his throat, made his incision feel tight. "That's a hell of a thing to joke about, Jethro."

"No joke," he said sincerely, trying to keep that thinly veiled edge of grief out of his voice. "They had me speak with a specialist. She said it was a million to one shot."

"Are you sure? I mean, there has to have been some kind of mistake? I can't…I'm not supposed to…shit." His free hand drifted down to his stomach and he rested it gently atop the blankets, eyes going wide with incredulity. "I'm pregnant?" He whispered the question half to himself, half to Gibbs.

Jethro shook his head sadly and met Tony's eyes. "You were pregnant, Tony. The baby…when you were shot…you lost a lot of blood and there was nothing they could do." There was no holding back the tear that drifted down his cheek now. Though seeing Tony's face light up at the very idea of it affirmed the decision he had made. "They said you probably would have miscarried it anyway."

Tony didn't understand the sense of loss that descended on him at those words. Jethro had told him that he'd been given something he had never in his life thought he wanted until a few years ago, had never thought he could have despite the new desire, and now it had been ripped from him without him ever knowing. He felt moisture on his cheeks to mirror Jethro's.

"There's more." Jethro explained as best as he could what the doctors had told him about the repairs to Tony's reproductive system, about the odds for the future. "I thought it was what you would want. After this, I think I'm glad I made the decision I did. Maybe I should have waited to ask you. Hell, I don't know."

Tony was feeling more pain from his abdomen as the drugs continued to wear off, but it was largely drowned out by his sheer sense of disbelief at what was being told to him. "So I lost a baby without even knowing I was pregnant, without even knowing it was a possibility, and while I was out, some doctors snipped a few things here and there and now…and now I can just…" He couldn't bring himself to even voice it.

"Only if you want to. Well, at least they tell me you have about 75% of the chance as anyone else with a healthy reproductive system. Although given our track record…" He smiled gently at Tony and swiped his thumb across his cheek. .

"This is…I don't even know what to think." Tony's brows knit together. It was too much.

"Then don't think about it right now. We have all the time in the world to decide." Jethro stood and pressed his lips lightly to Tony's forehead.

"Jethro?" Tony's voice was tight.

Gibbs pulled back a little but stayed close, bent low over the bed and let Tony say what he needed to.

"I'm sorry about the baby. I didn't…I never would have…" There was no way the sentence would complete itself.

"Don't you blame yourself for this for one second, do you hear me? Not one second." After more than two years together Jethro knew Tony, knew how he took these burdens and pushed them inside, insisted on bearing the weight of them all alone. He'd be damned if he'd allow him to do that now.

Tony nodded, tried to be convincing and knew he had failed miserably by the look in Jethro's eyes. He'd care more if the pain wasn't seriously starting to take charge now.

"There are a few people waiting outside to get a crack at you. Don't think they're gonna wait much longer," Jethro pulled back, fingertips clinging to Tony's own as he moved to the door.

"Normally I'd say let 'em wait, but I think I want some drugs now." He winced and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Things were throbbing deep inside that he didn't want to think about.

Gibbs nodded, still hating to leave his side even for this long, especially after the news he had just given him. As soon as he opened the door, a flood of medical personnel filled the room, checking this, adjusting that, taking blood and hanging IVs.

"He'll likely sleep again, at least for a little while. We're gradually decreasing his meds and hope to have him on a PCA pump by this evening. The sooner we can get him on his feet and moving around, the better. Dr. Oliver has asked us to let her know the next time he's up and around again." The nurse who had been intermittently hovering over Tony's bedside for the last ten hours squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Get some rest while you can, Agent Gibbs. We'll keep an eye on him while he's out."

He made an attempt at a weak smile so she wouldn't mother him further and moved back into the chair beside Tony's bed. The younger man's eyes were beginning to fall closed and he had an adorable half-goofy grin on his face.

Tony's head was full of cotton and the light in the room seemed to be growing dimmer. He raised a hand that felt a little like it belonged to someone else and beckoned Jethro closer. His tongue was feeling thick again. "Sleep." The word was so heavy. "Love you."

Jethro was pretty sure the first of Tony's words was an instruction rather than a request. The last two brought a smile to his face as he brushed the soft hair at Tony's temples. "Love you."

"Ba-by."

The two distinct syllables were almost a sigh on Tony's lips. Jethro had been certain he was out cold and now his heart seized up tight at the pain-laced word.

"Tony, I'm Dr. Oliver." The willowy brunette smiled and extended her hand to him.

Propped up as comfortably as he could be at the moment, Tony tried to ignore the discomfort that had crept in as his meds wore off and focus. "Hear you gave me a little nip and tuck." He gave the most winning smile he could muster.

"You could say that," she laughed. "How are you feeling? Anything unusual?"

"Aside from the bullet hole in my side and the puppet strings?" He indicated the IV wires. "No. I guess I don't really feel any different…in that area. It's kind of hard to separate things out."

Oliver nodded. "I'll do some testing and an exam before discharge to make sure you're healing properly but I'd rather give everything a chance to settle unless there's reason for concern before then. What kind of questions do you have?"

Tony looked to Gibbs. "I guess I'd like to know how this is even possible. Jethro kind of explained but, like I said, my Dad took me for all the usual tests when I was younger. He said there wasn't a shot in hell, not even one in a million, and I never questioned it. If I'd known all it would take was a few snips here and there I might have…I don't know." He shook his head. The truth was, before Jethro he probably wouldn't have done anything but take more precautions. "I guess maybe I would have liked to know."

"It's true that the methods we use for testing male carriers have been refined even in the last fifteen years." She seemed to be considering her words carefully. "But even the most basic test would have shown that the abnormalities preventing your ability to conceive were reversible with minor procedures. I'm assuming you were a minor at the time you were tested?"

"Yeah." Tony stared at the sheets, knuckles going white and then releasing as he made a few quick deductions. "So you're saying my Dad knew? He knew that I could have…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. On the one hand it was something he should have expected from his father, on the other, it seemed the most intimate kind of betrayal imaginable.

"I'm sorry. I can only tell you what I know. I can't speak to who would have had knowledge of your results or the decisions which may have been made as a result." There was definitely sympathy in her voice.

Tony sniffed back the angry tears that clouded his vision. If he'd known there was even a tiny chance he'd have taken precautions with Jethro, with other men over the years. He never would have conceived, he never would have…" He shut the thought out. There were far too many should haves and would haves for him to deal with. What he needed now were answers about the future.

"So what happens now? Do I just…do we just start trying whenever we want?"

"I'd recommend waiting at least three months before trying to conceive. Your body has been through a trauma and you need to give it time to recover. Your muscles also need time to adapt to the new position of your reproductive organs in order to give you the very best chance of a normal, healthy pregnancy. If that's something you choose, of course."

It was a lot to consider, too much given the present circumstances. "So do I follow up with you then? When we think we're ready? If that's what we decide."

She smiled. "I'm just the nip and tuck specialist. But I can recommend a few Andrologists who specialize in pregnancy and fertility and they can do some follow-up assessments and give you the go-ahead when everything is fully healed."

"We know a guy." Jethro looked down at Tony with soft eyes, instinctively knowing where his head was at.

"Good. If you don't have any more questions, then I'll leave you my card and come back when you're closer to discharge." She handed a small business card to Jethro.

"Hey, Doc?" Tony caught her just as she was about to exit the room. "If I…If I hadn't been shot is there a chance that I could have…Could the baby have survived?" He needed to hear it. One way or the other he needed the words to be said out loud.

She shook her head sadly. "With the position of your reproductive organs, the placenta wouldn't have formed properly and you would have miscarried within a few weeks at most. There was nothing you or anyone else could have done, even if you'd known," she said sincerely.

"Thank you." Tony managed the words around the burning in his throat, not even caring about the wetness on his cheeks. "Thank you for everything."