Tony is running … but not in straight lines or with any obvious purpose but Tony is excited. In fact, everything around him is exciting … the smells, the sights and the sounds are all calling to him and he races around trying to savour each new sensation. Tony gives himself up to the sheer joy of exploration although he is a little disconcerted to see how big everything is. It is a while before he realises that it is not so much that everything is big but that he is so small. He wags his tail with yet more excitement as he realises that he's a puppy!

Someone calls to him and he quivers with happiness as he recognises the voice and he runs towards the sound as fast as his slightly uncoordinated legs will allow. He plonks himself down in front of two shapely feet and barks excitedly. Perhaps he should not be surprised when the feet are replaced by two feet shod in sensible suede lace-ups … and when a rolled-up newspaper swats him on the nose.

"Hey!" he says half-heartedly.

"Tony," says McGee with what seems like genuine concern, "I think you should go to a sleep therapist!"

"What?" asks Tony.

"You sounded really … excited …" says Ellie. "And you were … twitching."

"You could just try shaking my shoulder," says Tony peevishly.

"Head slaps seem to work," says Gibbs curtly.

"What we got?" asks Tony, hoping to divert attention from what seem to be embarrassing sleep habits.

"Cab company's been going for two weeks," says McGee.

"Doesn't advertise. Doesn't seem to pick up casual rides, pre-booked only," says Bishop.

"Might be nothing," says Tony.

"Might be," agrees Gibbs but it is clear that his gut is lining up with Tony's to say that something is up.

"I could try for a court order to tap their phones?" says McGee doubtfully, "But yours and Tony's guts aren't probably enough to get a judge to sign off."

Tony thinks judges should accept the evidence of MCRT guts but is realistic enough to know that it won't be. He shakes his head at something that is niggling him.

"DiNozzo?" asks Gibbs, "What's up?"

"You mean, apart from a headache from all those head slaps?" snaps Tony ill-advisedly. "I mean, thank you for your concern, Boss," he amends hastily.

Gibbs ignores all this and raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know," says Tony, "There was something in my dream …"

Bishop and McGee groan, hoping they're not about to have a blow by blow account of some embarrassing dream – they've listened to too many of Tony's enthusiastic descriptions of how his imagination works at night and think they are probably already emotionally scarred. Gibbs is made of sterner stuff – or perhaps he's just been better at tuning out Tony's descriptions.

"What?" he asks.

"Don't know," says Tony discontentedly. "I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Try!" orders Gibbs.

"On it," says Tony, opting for simple obedience for once. He returns to his look out position and begins watching again, he is not surprised when, an hour or so later, Gibbs drifts over to watch with him. "Three more A to B Cabs in the last 45 minutes," he reports.

Gibbs huffs, "Just got word, three more people in hospital after taking those drugs."

"Damn," says Tony.

"Where do the cabs drop the passengers?" asks Gibbs.

Tony points to the café next door to the warehouse. "I emailed Abby. Asked her to check it out. She says there's nothing hinky about it. No police suspicions about it. Seems to be clean. None of our suspects have been in it. What we gonna do, Boss?"

Gibbs shifts restlessly, "We may have to go in and raid it," he says, "But Legal don't think we've got probable cause … like McGee said, my gut isn't enough to get a warrant."

"Damn," says Tony again.

"So," says Gibbs conversationally.

Tony stiffens, Gibbs doesn't do conversational. "Yes?" he says.

"What were you dreaming about?"

Tony doesn't really want to explain about the doggy dreams but something else occurs to him which he can talk about, "Well, the way I've been head slapped awake three times makes me think of Rule 40!"

Gibbs allows himself a laugh, "If it seems someone's out to get you …"

"They are," finishes Tony. "I'm beginning to feel as if you're out to get me, Boss."

Gibbs' hand twitches as if it wants to deliver another slap and Tony instinctively braces himself. The hand returns to Gibbs' lap and he asks again, "What were you dreaming about, Tony?" He senses Tony's hesitation, "You can leave out the embarrassing bits if you want."

Tony thinks … he realises that the way the dreams ended distracted him from what they were about. He remembers that he was suddenly ecstatic in the last dream … and how disappointed he was when Gibbs' shoes replaced the stylish sandals. "Oh," he says, "I dreamt about …"

"Who?" prompts Gibbs when Tony falters.

"Cassidy. Paula."

"Ah," Gibbs speaks sympathetically as they remember the loss of Special Agent Paula Cassidy. "Do you dream about her often?" he asks.

"Nope. Not that I remember anyway," says Tony. "Probably just a coincidence I did today." He exchanges a wry look with Gibbs as he remembers Gibbs' views on coincidences. Tony looks away from Gibbs to look once more at the warehouse and café across the road.

Two seconds later his gaze jerks back to Gibbs and he realises that they have had the same thought.

"Joke Shop!" they say in unison.

"What!" asks Bishop as she startles herself awake.

NCISNCIS

Tony is running but there's no urgency to the run. He takes in his surroundings and approves of them. He doesn't know where he is, but it doesn't seem to matter. He is on his own and that doesn't matter either. He is content despite the unfamiliarity of his surroundings. It feels almost inevitable, however, that he sees a familiar figure waiting for him up ahead. He hears a summoning whistle and then his name being called. Something within Tony instinctively wants to obey the call but he simply slows to a walk and then sits down out of slapping range.

Tony stays where he is and warily watches Gibbs approach. A hand reaches out – and pats him gently on the head. "Good boy," come the words.

"That's more like it," says Tony as he wakes up.

"More like what?" asks Ducky as he withdraws his hand from Tony's forehead. "Forgive me, Anthony. I still favour the old-fashioned method of ascertaining a patient's temperature. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Huh?" asks Tony as he lapses into puzzlement.

"Gibbs has just stepped out," continues Ducky, "It is some thirty minutes since he finished his last mug of coffee. You will understand that the situation was critical!"

"Huh?" says Tony again. He wonders why fluency is eluding him.

"Good to see you back," says Gibbs striding back into the room.

"Eh?" says Tony as he manages to find some variety in his response.

"I will leave you to your conversation," says Ducky courteously, "And I will alert the medical staff that you have awakened, Anthony."

"Eh?"

"We did good," says Gibbs, taking a seat by Tony's bedside.

"We did?" says Tony, perhaps encouraged by the almost cheerful words to string two words together.

"We were right," said Gibbs, "Remembering about Paula."

"Ah," said Tony as he remembers, "The joke shop next door."

"Yes," Gibbs' expression is sombre as he and Tony remember how Paula Cassidy died in the bombing, how she had leapt through the hidden door she and Tony had discovered between the place her team had died and the former joke shop next door.

"Wonder what she would have thought," muses Tony.

"Huh?" asks Gibbs.

"If she'd known that she sent a message from the grave," explains Tony.

Gibbs nods. He and Tony had realised that there might be some sort of long hidden door between the café and the warehouse next door allowing potential drugs customers to be driven to the café, use the hidden door to go next door and buy their drugs. McGee and Bishop had got hold of blueprints of the café and spotted where the door could be. Tony and Gibbs had gone in as potential customers and waited until the next cab arrived and disgorged its passenger.

From there it had been easy enough to follow her as she accessed the passage way … the force they had met had been a surprise and Tony had received yet another blow to the head and had missed most of the denouement.

"We got them all?" he asks.

"Yes," says Gibbs contentedly. "We've shut them down. And they're singing like …"

"Canaries?" suggests Tony.

"Like people who know their goose is cooked," says Gibbs.

Tony wonders what such people sound like but is too weary to start a discussion although, truthfully, he knows it would be a very one-sided discussion.

"So," continues Gibbs, "We did good. Although the café owner is in shock, he had no idea what was going on but was just pleased that his takings had gone up."

"Hmm," says Tony.

"What's going on?" asks Gibbs.

"Boss?" says Tony innocently. Gibbs delivers one of his bland stares: it is odd that its very blandness prompts Tony into speech. "The dreams," he says.

"Yes?" Gibbs takes a sip of his newly acquired coffee. It is an oddly reassuring sight and makes Tony feel that Gibbs has settled down to listen and there is plenty of time.

"I dreamt I was a dog," says Tony. "One time I was a St Bernard …" Gibbs chuckles. "Another time I was a puppy … I don't think you approved! The first time I was some long-legged red dog …"

"Red Setter, good gun dogs," suggests Gibbs. Somehow Tony is not surprised to learn that Gibbs knows dogs.

"That was good," says Tony reminiscently. "Until I collided with you!"

"So?" asks Gibbs.

"Made me think … I wanted to please you …"

"Wanted?"

"Want," corrects Tony. "Like I said before, I owe you a lot, Gibbs. You know that."

"But?"

"But … wayward puppy, loyal St Bernard … clumsy dog … it's not how I want to see myself."

"It's not how I see you," says Gibbs.

"Yeah?" says Tony doubtfully.

"It's not how I see you," repeats Gibbs firmly.

"And then your rules," says Tony. "Watch the watchers … and you're always watching, Boss. And Rule 40, if you think someone's out to get you, they probably are."

"So?"

"So, it seems you're out to get me, Gibbs."

"I'm not," says Gibbs. "As I've said before, you're the best young agent I've ever worked with."

"And that's good to know," says Tony. "It is. It's just that …"

"What?"

Tony suspects the milk of human kindness may be running out as the coffee dries up, "But … well, I'm not young anymore, Gibbs. And I don't think …" he pauses, gathering courage, "And I don't think your leadership style works for me anymore."

"You think you're house trained?" asks Gibbs.

Tony squints at Gibbs, trying to work out what he means but decides that he's committed now, "Yes, Boss. I do."

Gibbs gazes at him for an unnervingly long time but Tony doesn't flinch or fidget. Perhaps it's that which convinces Gibbs that Tony has truly moved on. "Then I guess I do too," he says finally.

"Thanks, Boss," says Tony. "Then I'll take that new job Vance offered …"

Gibbs nods. As he watches, Tony's eyes slide shut.

Tony is running, running, running and it feels good. He is so absorbed in the running that he doesn't feel the feather light touch of Gibbs' hand in his hair or hear him say, "Good boy … good boy."

AN: thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in the story … the characters are back in their boxes …