Warning: Language

T.L.C. Gibbs' Style

Part 3

He pushed the suffocating covers away, kicking them off, wishing the housemaid hadn't turned off the air conditioning. He hated these muggy nights when his parents were out leaving him with the hired help, except, and now a faint expectant smile touched his lips, he had his mother's return to look forward to and if he was really lucky he'd still be awake when she came in to brush his forehead with a tender goodnight kiss. He loved when that happened and he could drift back to sleep enveloped in her fragrant perfume that remained with him long after she'd retired.

And when the touch of a feather-light hand finally came, he groaned with an equal amount of pleasure and pain.

"Mom?"

"Shhhh, go to sleep, Tony."

He complied, too tired and too sick to do anything else.

--

A gentle hand behind his head raised him up and a glass was brought to his lips encouraging him to leave the in-between world he lay in. Opening bleary, blood-shot eyes, he realised Gibbs was again offering him medication.

Damn - meant to be out of here before now.

"What did you just say?" The voice was dangerously soft.

And it was then that Tony's eyes widened in unmitigated horror.

'No, no, no - tell me I didn't just say that out loud?' he begged himself.

"DiNozzo!" The demand was sharper this time.

Squirming self-consciously, he stuttered sheepishly, "Er...thought it was time to...er...get out of your hair, Boss. I can as well lie down at home as bother you. I know how busy you--."

Blue eyes narrowed beneath dark brows.

"Shutting up now, Boss."

Exhaling a shaky breath, Tony automatically accepted the meds held out to him because that's what one did if one wanted to live.

But silently, he berated his weakness, hating this dependence when he knew Gibbs had better things to do than baby-sit an agent who was only sick because he couldn't follow orders.

He allowed himself to be settled back and watched, colouring uncomfortably, as Gibbs straightened his bed sheets.

"Did you have a fight with anyone, DiNozzo?"

Grinning weakly, he offered a typical upbeat reply.

"Well, while you were out, Charleze Theron paid a call and things got a little..." He caught the glare, though if he wasn't mistaken there did seem to be a hint of a smile lurking deep down. "Shutting up again, Boss."

--

It was late in the evening when he next awoke and, aghast at the time, he made his way cautiously down to where he knew Gibbs would be working on his boat. As he circumvented the pitfalls of descending stairs with a spinning head he caught the tail end of a conversation and felt his insides quail.

"...he's a lazy son of a bitch and needs his ass kicking, and if he's not careful I'll be the one..."

Tony hastily shrank back into the shadows, flinching as a myriad of emotions raced across his clammy face and, creeping back up the stairs, he ensured that the ex-gunny hadn't spotted him.

Shit! He knew he should have got out of there before. He'd done nothing but sleep and now he'd managed to piss Gibbs off even more than ever. And who in their right mind could blame him he thought miserably.

He stared down at the scrubs he was wearing and grimaced. No car, no money and no keys, but the keys and money wouldn't pose too much of a problem. The doorman on duty at his apartment block would let him into both the building and his place and he'd lend him the money for the cab he was intending getting until he could reimburse him with a well-earned tip to boot.

Tony would have smiled to himself for sorting it all out with the minimum of fuss except he was burning with humiliation and the last thing he considered was giving himself a metaphorical pat on the back for a job well thought, not when Gibbs felt he was slacking. All he really wanted was to curl up in his own bed and hide away until he felt better.

He swore under his breath, hands clenched tightly as he strove to gain some equilibrium. Hell, he couldn't honestly help it if he was doped on medication that made him do nothing but snore his life away! Sometimes life sucked, and this was definitely one of those times.

--

Glad of the darkness that hid his inappropriate garb - otherwise no driver in his right mind would stop when he hailed it - he set off, having decided it wouldn't be a wise move to call a cab to Gibbs' house. He'd go out and find one.

Hunching his shoulders up to his ears to ward off the biting cold of the night, he hoped the brief note which he had hastily scribbled and left on his pillow would put his boss's mind to rest.

Thankful that the rain had almost stopped, Tony headed in the direction of the busier streets that were sure to have a passing cab or two.

--

He was utterly miserable. And if he were truthful, after walking for a mere ten minutes, he would admit he was feeling like something approximating what was normally to be found on one of Ducky's tables.

He just wished that his body would make up its f-cking mind because one minute it was wracked by deep, bone chilling tremors and then it would escalate into hot flashes which burned his skin and had his scrubs sticking uncomfortably to his body. It was a cycle of unbearable misery and long before he'd trudged to the end of Gibbs' street he was aware of how utterly weak and spent he was. If a cab didn't come soon he'd be tempted to just lie down and...

His eyes widened as the welcome lights of a vacant cab approached and Tony raised an arm that felt almost too heavy to move and hailed. At that same moment the screeching of tyres under severe braking pressure impacted his dull senses and for a terrifying second he thought some drunk driver had lost control of his vehicle and with his luck the blasted thing was about to thump into him.

It didn't.

As he willed his tense body to relax, he heard the slamming of a door and then the harsh invective before he felt the violent hold on his scrubs which literally took him off his feet. Unable to resist, he was flung around and for a few terrifying seconds he had very little recollection of anything other than eyes so hard he could almost believe they were shooting fine shards of pain into his aching body as he was given a good shaking.

But as a furious ex-marine forced Tony to face him, the flushed features and glazed eyes of the young agent caused his blistering anger to deflate a little as worry overrode his original emotion.

He loosened his hold to one of support only to have his senior field agent jerk out of his reach, stumbling unsteadily as he approached the now stationery cab.

Stooping to see the driver through the lowered window, Tony mumbled his address with a racing heart yet with a reckless determination borne of experience under duress.

Straightening, he turned around to face his boss, eyes bright, much too bright in the dark street.

"Thanks for the T.L.C., Boss - I'm good to go now."

Blue eyes narrowed as Gibbs' jaw clenched tightly.

"You think so, DiNozzo?"

Gibbs watched as Tony self-consciously swiped a scrub sleeve under his runny nose. He shrugged wryly, mumbling, "Forgot my tissues."

"You forgot something else too...I don't leave anyone behind."

Tony frowned, far too weary to attempt to work it out, but as he moved to open the passenger door of the cab, Gibbs stepped forward, flashed his badge at the driver and authoritatively stated, "This man's just escaped custody. I'm taking him back - you'll have to find yourself another customer."

Shock drained every vestige of colour from his cheeks, as Tony growled, "What the hell? Hey, wait, I--."

Before he could finish what he wanted to say, he was tugged back allowing the cab to draw away.

Resentment flared white-hot bright as he jerked away rigid with anger, so that Gibbs was no longer sure what controlled the heightened colour in Tony's cheeks.

Willing himself to hold on to the fury that wanted to do nothing more than put a fist into that smug, self-satisfied bastard's face, Tony shot him a venomous look and ground out, "You shouldn't have done that, Boss."

It was an effort to swallow his own tirade of frustrated obscenities but the sick man's eyes told their own story.

"Let Ducky decide on that one, DiNozzo. Now get in the car before you fall on your ass and I have to explain why I let you out when you are out of your head with fever!"

Staring directly into the ex-marine's frosty eyes, Tony stated gruffly, obstinately "I want to go home."

"Not an option." Then feeling his ire rising with his headstrong agent, Gibbs drawled mockingly, "I can offer you an alternative - hospital."

The older man didn't miss the dark, mutinous glare, but Gibbs was grimly determined.

"Your choice, DiNozzo - you've got three seconds and then I'm going to bodily put you in the truck and leave you in the combined hands of Dr. Pitt and Ducky and let them deal with you."

Hiding his relief, Gibbs watched as Tony moodily slunk to the passenger side of his truck and got in. The grey-haired man took his own seat, staring ahead and waiting before he started the engine.

"What's it to be?"

There was no answer, but it was good enough for the ex-gunny.

--

The sun was high behind the closed curtains when Tony tiredly managed to crack open one eye.

He turned his head and shoulders and a groan whispered from his dry lips as every muscle and bone in his body started a simultaneous and concerted protest over said movement. He stilled, feeling drained of all energy, a used-up, discarded husk.

The creaking of a chair warned Tony that someone was close, and dreading who it was, his eyes shot closed, but unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough to hide the fact that he was awake from one with expert medical skills.

"Ah, Anthony, you've decided to join us - good." Ducky ran a hand over the back of his neck, easing the muscles that had stiffened as he'd napped in the chair beside the bed. "After your little escapade last night you've given Jethro and me a little scare."

And in an instant Tony had a flashback of twisting and turning in fever, taking comfort in brief lucid moments from cooling cloths that washed across his burning body while at other times attempting to curl away from hands that were constantly insisting he lie still, take medication, stay in bed...

Shifting restlessly, he struggled to sit up, but the walls did a wild loop and the M.E. placed the flat of his hand against Tony's chest, ordering him to stay still.

As Ducky proceeded to give his patient the necessary checks of pulse, heart rate and temperature, he continued gently, "I must confess to contemplating admitting you to hospital, dear boy, and probably would have except Jethro convinced me that between the two of us we could tame this flu bug of yours."

Tony's eyes and head hurt, even his teeth and gums and yet Ducky's words made an impact on his throbbing brain.

Gibbs convinced Ducky not to send me to hospital!

He swallowed painfully. It hadn't been what he'd expected; it didn't make sense. "W...where's Gibbs?"

"Why? Do you want me to get him - I think he's just--."

"No!" Tony croaked as vehemently as he could. "I...I...er don't think I'm his favourite person right now."

The elderly M.E. smiled encouragingly. "Oh, I think you underestimate yourself, though I suspect there may be some form of sanction bestowed on you, and rightly so." Ducky's eyes flashed his irritation. "What in the world possessed you to undertake such an ill-considered act of downright...well, I can only describe it as--?"

"Stupidity?"

Tony jerked.

Gibbs had, unknown to the young agent, been lounging against the doorframe when he decided to enter into the conversation and he didn't miss Tony's breath catching in surprise, prelude to what was always a raw coughing fit.

In two strides he was on the opposite side to Ducky and the two in well-practiced motion eased Tony up, placing another pillow behind his shoulders so that the spasm passed quickly, leaving the patient gasping for breath.

"Precisely!" agreed Ducky when Tony started to relax. "And I would normally not harass someone as ill as you, my boy, but I must ensure there is no repeat of your foolishness. You could so easily have --."

"'s 'kay, Ducky."

"I beg to differ, dear boy, it isn't okay, not by a long shot."

And at that moment Tony would have given anything not to be where he was, to be able to vanish through a hole in the floor or better yet, to be beamed up by Scotty and whisked away to another galaxy far, far away, but his weakness precluded any chance of escaping this lecture so he plastered a suitably chastened expression on his face and lay quietly in the hope that his acquiescence would mollify the good doctor.

The agent had, however, unpredictably forgotten that the M.E. wasn't the only one he was going to have to answer to.

"So Ducky, what sort of punishment do you think would fit the offence?"

--

TBC