June 2
There is no friend like the old friend,
Who has shared our morning days,
No greeting like his welcome,
No homage like his praise. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, "No Time Like the Old Time"
Tony woke up with a start.
First things first. He realized he had been asleep on his desk. He cast his mind back to try to remember what had happened.
They had been working on a case the day before, getting nowhere fast. Gibbs had taken his frustration out on everyone possible; Tony recalled trying to keep his head down as best he could. Nevertheless, Gibbs had been on fine form.
Which was why he had returned. Gibbs had ordered everyone to go home. Suspecting that his boss would leave shortly afterwards to sand his boat or pick up a redhead in a bar or shoot someone or whatever it was that would calm him down, Tony had deliberately gone to see Ducky. The Boss had vanished by the time he left Ducky's domain, giving him the chance to continue his investigation.
And continue he had. He had smiled at Ducky and then Jenny as they left for the night at their respective times. He had eaten Chinese takeout at his desk and stayed awake with the aid of coffee. But eventually his eyes couldn't take it anymore and he decided to have a short nap…
It took him a moment to work out what had woken him up. Gibbs was sitting at his desk, the only other person in the squad room. Tony immediately remembered all the times Gibbs had found him asleep at his desk.
He groaned as he realized he would have to get up. It was only 0530, but Gibbs would kill him if he went back to sleep.
"Morning, Boss," he grumbled. How could someone be so awake at this hour?
Gibbs arched an eyebrow in his direction.
"Got a lead," he recalled. "Blain was known to frequent a coffee shop two blocks from our dead body."
Gibbs nodded. "Not bad," he noted.
Tony couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. From Gibbs, that was high praise indeed.