Sometime later Fornell and Sacks were watching basketball on the television. They had just finished their pizza and were currently contently drinking a beer each when the lead agent's phone vibrated yet again with the arrival of another text message. Feeling a bit wary of the prospect of getting another assignment in the care of one Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr., he opened the SMS and read out loud:

'He eat yet?'

Sighing in resignation, Fornell clumsily typed his reply.

'STILL ASLEEP, Jeth. It's 12 PM.'

'Buy the Pizza?'

'YES!'

'Tea?' – Momentarily confused, Fornell didn't know what to say to that. The next message was obviously meant as an explanation, when Gibbs had – correctly – interpreted the silence as cluelessness. – 'Best after hard day.'

The FBI agent nodded, forgetting for a moment that Gibbs couldn't see him.

'Sure. Got some.' – He sent back.

'Earl Grey?'

'That too…'

Hoping against hope his friend would be content that that, he was about to place the cell phone back onto the table again when another SMS arrived.

'Checked on him?'

Fornell exhaled slowly.

"Now he wants me to check on him!"

Sacks, who up until now had been watching his boss' quickly changing ridiculous expressions, smiled in pretended good humor.

"Of course he wants that."

Giving his subordinate a nasty glare that suggested they possibly wouldn't be working together for long if the younger man didn't lose the attitude, Fornell heaved himself from the comfortable couch and made his way towards the guest bedroom, all the while wondering why exactly he was obeying his old pal's demands as if they were orders from his director…

He was unsurprised to hear his senior field agent follow him; if Tony was Gibbs' loyal St. Bernard then Sacks was his, regardless of their constant bantering, especially about the problem at hand right now.

The two men cautiously pushed the door open just a bit wider, and silently peered inside so as not to wake the sleeping occupant. What they saw caused them to do a double take though: the sheets had been kicked to the floor in an undignified heap, the pillow crumpled and tossed at the end of the bed, and the young NCIS agent was lying diagonally on the big bed, breathing heavily and irregularly, with his eyes half open and looking as weak as a newborn kitten.

Sacks threw the door completely open and, abandoning all elegance, both FBI agents sprinted into he room with the speed of light.

"DiNutso…? What's wrong?" – Fornell tried but he only received a groan and some incomprehensible mumbling in return.

When Sacks turned on the lights, Tony squinted and tried to turn away from the offending brightness but was stopped by the lead agent who was checking his temperature and pulse.

"How's he?"

"He's burning up. DiNutso…? Tony… Can you hear me?" – Another moan and a weak attempt of a slap towards Fornell's restraining hands was all the answer Tony offered.

"I'll wet a cloth." – A worried Sacks declared, already halfway to the bathroom.

His boss called after him while simultaneously trying to calm the squirming sick young man.

"Use the towel you'll find there!"

The senior field agent was back in a minute with no less than three dripping wet towels, looking flustered. At his boss' questioning glance, he said sheepishly:

"I didn't know which one you meant… Ahm…" – He looked around helplessly as if expecting a doctor to jump out of the nearest closet and hurry to their rescue. Sadly, this didn't happen which meant they were completely and utterly alone with the problem. – "Tobias… do you know what to do now?"

"I'm the father of a young child, Ron. Naturally, I do. Don't panic."

The other man couldn't claim to feel much better, but wisely kept his mouth shut and followed his boss' instructions instead. They covered Tony's forehead and wrists (mindful of his previous injuries) with the wet towels and settled him into a more comfortable position. They couldn't help but notice for the first time how the enormous bed dwarfed the young man, making him look even more vulnerable than he already really was.

Fornell pulled the cover up to Tony's chin and ran his hand through his tousled hair.

"Will he be all right?"

"Of course he will be. He just had a rough time and needs to rest, that's all."

"Good." – Seeing his boss' poorly concealed amused smirk, Sacks quickly added defensively: - "Not that I care about what's going on with DiNozzo, mind you. I'm just worried what Gibbs would do if something were to happen and-"

"Shit! Gibbs!" – Fornell sprinted to the living room with a speed that belied his age and grabbed his cell off the coffee table where he'd previously left it unattended. – "If I don't answer, he'll come here! But… what should I write?" – He looked at his colleague questioningly but the other man just shrugged.

"How should I know? He's your friend. Just don't tell him I'm involved. I'm quite loyal to you but that ends at this point; I prefer living to being slaughtered."

Fornell glared at him for a while before typing:

'Just a small fever. All good. Don't worry.'

It didn't take ten seconds for his phone to start to incessantly vibrate, this time because of a demanding call. Glad that it was still on silent, the lead FBI agent pushed the answer button and opened his mouth to greet the caller but didn't get the chance to speak.

- What do you mean by 'just a small fever'!? Tobias, I swear, if he's sick-

- Geez, calm down, Jethro! – Fornell had to hold the cell a bit farther from his ear for fear he'd become deaf. – He's fine, we're here with him.

- 'We'? Who's 'we'?

Sacks groaned and didn't feel comforted at all when his boss smiled at him in a mock-apologetic way.

- Ron Sacks is here too. He's helping me take care of your boy.

- Jesus! I'm coming over.

- No, you're not.

- Tobias-

- Jethro, I obviously haven't questioned him yet and you're not going anywhere near him until I do!

- Fine. Then Ducky-

- This applies to everyone on your team.

- He's not on my team.

- Let me rephrase it then: everyone at your agency.

Fornell could hear his friend muttering angrily at the other end of the line but he couldn't make out any words – which was probably a good thing since he had a feeling his ears might have burnt… Right now, the hisses and groans sounded like the growling of an old engine; quite ominous.

He decided to let the man rant and rave while he finished his beer. It was about two minutes later that he heard his NCIS counterpart sigh in defeat, obviously spent after his tirade.

- But you'll take care of him, right? The two of you?

- Sure, Jethro. – Fornell promised sincerely. – You know we will.

- Yeah, I know. Because if you won't, I'll hold both of you personally responsible and you'll have to deal with me and my entire team!

With that, the line went dead and Fornell – after staring at the now silent cell in a daze for a while – turned to his colleague with a smirk.

"So, Ron." – He began, handing the man another can of beer. – "Make yourself comfortable; it looks like you're stuck here with me for the time being."

Luckily, Tony was sleeping too deeply to be awoken by the loud 'thud' that followed Sacks falling from the couch at this announcement.