A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, alerts & favorites! Makes the dreary work week easier to take. :}

This is all for now with this storyline, so am marking this complete with this chapter. But I never say never, and I like the promise of more to come in this one. All reviews and comments appreciated.

Spumoni

Part III

Gibbs was waiting for his response, and Tony knew that even when he was one hundred percent – which he wasn't quite yet – he couldn't withstand the power of the Gibbs Gaze (a deceptively gentler but, as he lectured his Probies, no less deadly version of the Gibbs' Glare). He smiled vacuously and shrugged, "Boss?"

Gibbs simply continued to stare at him, grey eyebrows hitching up slightly.

"Y'know, I really am hungry," he tried deflecting, although he could just hear McGee intoning 'resistance is futile' even as he did. "Is that pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese?"

"Mmm-hmm." Gibbs watched him, unmoving, until after a long moment he reached over to roll the nearby bed table, bearing the pizza, toward his agent.

Tony opened the box with the enthusiasm of a hungry sixteen year old. "Thanks, Boss! Real food..." He wrestled a large slice free and shoved the front half into his mouth. "Mmmff, 'ill hot, 'oo..." he managed around the cheese and sausage.

"So, Tony..." Gibbs' tone and tiny smile would make the uninitiated think he had the patience of a saint. His team knew it meant anything but. "Why'd you lie to your partner?"

"It wasn't exactly lying, Boss, just..."

Gibbs grinned, and Tony gave himself a mental head-slap. Played like the greenest dirtbag, and you fell for it, DiNozzo, he groaned inwardly. His immediate protest had been as good as an admission to Gibbs that he'd done something just short of it. "No fair, Boss," he conceded he'd been made. "You know my defenses are down."

"Because of the hypothermia, or the bronchitis, or the pizza?"

"All three – even worse." DiNozzo relaxed into a smaller but more genuine grin. He knew he'd be forced to talk. But if the Boss was fighting dirty, so would he. He'd make Gibbs ask once more – so gulped down the rest of his first slice and reached for a second.

A hand shot out to clap down the lid of the pizza box and Gibbs' eyes narrowed. At that point, if Tony had any question before, he didn't now: Gibbs knew exactly what it was all about. So he did what any self-respecting DiNozzo would do.

He caved.

"Yeah, okay," he muttered, then fell silent for a moment as he collected this thoughts. "Boss ..." he began, thoughtfully. "You ever notice that, no matter how good she is at multi-tasking, Ziva can't be exasperated with me and embarrassed at herself at the same time?"

Tony allowed himself just a slight bit of pride at the expression his response had raised on Gibbs' face – it wasn't what he'd expected. Even better, after the initial surprise, there might be the smallest glimmer of approval, or – something – on his mentor's face, and Gibbs' hand lifted from the pizza box, snaked inside to grab his own piece, and pulled out and away, allowing the lid to lift tantalizingly before Tony again. With that affirmation, Tony grinned again, and he pulled out another piece of pizza. He began speaking, though, before he took his next bite.

"Ziva showed up out there, in the woods, before the ambulance came that was supposed to bring me here. I guess I was looking pretty rough because she sort of flipped out on the FBI agent and got all mother bear on me. I mean, Boss, she was all huggy and singing and..." He watched Gibbs carefully for his reaction and, seeing an understanding dawn in the Marine's eyes, he nodded and went on, "and when she showed up here, I guess she was pretty worried and hung around driving the medical people crazy until Brad and Ducky convinced her I was okay."

DiNozzo's voice trailed off, clearly reflecting on what he'd just said, making Gibbs wonder for a moment if he was still under the effects of his past hours. The agent's eyes refocused on him again then, and he realized it wasn't the effects of the weather that had DiNozzo distracted.

"When she came in, she..." Tony searched for the right word, and finally shrugged, "she seemed like she was pretty happy that I was going to thaw out okay, but maybe wasn't sure how to act, what with all she did out there. So ... I pushed it. And it just sort of happened, she thought I was acting goofy because of the painkillers and that was as easy as anything to use. It made her laugh, and, maybe, forget what she had done, since I was acting pretty loony."

Gibbs accepted the explanation with a silent nod, waiting for more. The whole situation – Ziva's worry, Tony's response, all the other events leading up to this – he knew more was coming. He supposed, fleetingly, that if the undercurrent between the two that had begun so many years ago, from their first, contentious days together, had managed to continue to smolder between them like this, then maybe it needed his respect. He didn't have to like it, he grumbled to himself, but he might at least let DiNozzo make his case.

"Boss..." DiNozzo let his third piece of pizza hover just outside of his mouth as he broached the unthinkable. "You know, I think there's a rule in the 30's somewhere, isn't there, about what happens if someone of your team passes the ten year mark with you, and gets past fifty percent dead at least twice? I think they get to be excused from a rule of their choice. Especially at Christmas."

Despite his best efforts, a bit of a grin escaped the Gunny's steely resolve at the second unexpected opening from his agent that day. "Oh, 's that so, DiNozzo?" he smirked. "You thinkin' of Rule Seven?"

Tony blinked, not thinking of that one, then dismissed it with a small laugh. "No, but that's a pretty good one, being specific when you lie, and it fits, what with the medication thing," Tony nodded, sensing that Gibbs now tried a bit of deflection of his own, and knew the Boss suspected what was coming. His voice softened as he continued his point. "But ... another good one is Rule Five, 'don't waste good.'" He raised his chin a little, serious now. "Ziva and I could be good – as in ... good, together. We haven't had much of a chance to find out how good, other than a sort of start at it when you were off playing beach blanket bingo with Mike Franks."

At the glare he got in return, Tony muttered, "okay, not the best movie reference there. Sorry, Boss. Must be that near-fatal hypothermia still has me silly" quickly and low enough he thought he'd get a pass on Rule Six. "But..." he prodded himself to be serious, because it was important – and he needed Gibbs to know just how serious he was. "The last couple of years have been kinda rough ones, for all of us, and a part of that was some of the relationships we let happen. Especially since Ziva came back ..." It was all he needed to say to remind Gibbs that they both questioned Ziva's well-being at times, feeling some worry long after her return from Somalia that she had not allowed herself the support she could have had, offered from several sources. "But even before that, I think maybe she and I both made choices we wouldn't have to have made ... if..."

"If I hadn't come back?"

DiNozzo met Gibbs' eyes at that, slightly surprised, not having thought that far back but quickly remembering that it had been in his thoughts at the time. Without a trace of the usual DiNozzo filters, he said, "I might have put it a little differently, Boss, but ... yeah, if the team had stayed as it was then, without you. I guess that would have been worse, not just co-workers, but with me as her supervisor?" He paused, and when Gibbs didn't kill him right then with his near-admission, went on. "But you are back, so maybe it's more accurate to say if it wasn't for Rule Twelve. I mean, c'mon, Boss – C.I. Ray? Really?"

"Is he so different from you?"

"That hurts, Boss."

Gibbs smirked at that, and stretched over to lift another piece of pizza from the box. "Y'know, DiNozzo, he's not so different, really. He was a Fed, in law enforcement..."

"He was a slimeball spook!"

"I didn't say he was exactly like you." Gibbs was silent and, in true testament that he was not in fact under the influence of any pain meds, Tony was silent, too, watching Gibbs think things through. DiNozzo was fluent enough in 'Gibbs' to know he'd made his point, and it was being considered. After a few moments, Gibbs, sighed softly and said, "you know why there's a Rule Twelve, don't you?"

"Jenny?"

Maybe too direct, Tony thought he saw a tiny wince at the name. But before he could say more, Gibbs said, "yeah, but what about Jenny, and the Rule? There were several reasons that Rule 12 needed to be added, any one of which could end up destroying my team, and Tony, I want my team to stay just as good as it is."

"I get that, Boss, and on the clock, you know both Ziva and I can keep our heads on straight."

"I do? Hell, DiNozzo, I'm not always sure about that now."

With the way he'd grumbled that, Tony grinned, feeling a surge of hope with Gibbs actually cracking wise in the middle of this conversation. He urged, "I think part of Ziva's Mossad training was focusing on the job after steamy nights in the dessert with team-mates, wasn't it? And after ten years of head-slaps I'm pretty good at getting on track when I need to be."

It wasn't silent as long this time before Gibbs sighed, "yeah, Tony, you are." As Gibbs drew another breath, DiNozzo sensed a shift in the universe and actually began to suspect Gibbs was going to grant him his exemption. "It's not the day to day stuff that I worry about. You get that? It's when there are extreme circumstances – what will one of you do when the other is in danger? You gonna make reasonable choices, or are you going to go all Rambo because of who it is?"

The DiNozzo smirk appeared immediately. "I think we're already reacting how we're gonna react, Boss. At least I am. Dating or not, I feel about her what I feel, and when something happens ... I don't know that I'll react differently. I mean, hell, there was that whole trip to Africa thing..."

"And if she was the mother of your children?"

Tony's eyes went wider, and he protested, "hey Boss, I was just talking dating here..."

"Rule Twelve, DiNozzo. Dating leads to other things, and if you're not willing to think it all though, you're not ready to break it." Beyond the push-back, Gibbs saw the truth in his senior agent's eyes, that exactly that – and more – had crossed his mind, too. "The team's been broken up three times now since you came to NCIS, Tony. Once was my fault, once was Vance's, and once was Rivkin's. You want the next one to be because you and Ziva wanted to hook up and you find out you can't do both?"

"Of course not," Tony murmured. "But Boss ..." he sighed. "You know how I feel about the team, and you, and everything you've done for me. But ... I think maybe you know how I feel about Ziva, too, and if I don't try..." He paused. "I don't think I want to end up retired and never having given it a fair chance, at least."

"What if you try and it doesn't work out, huh? Then what? Can the two of you continue on the same team and partner the way you've been, if you've gone through that?"

At his words, Tony's eyes shifted and Gibbs could see that his second had found the real genesis of Rule Twelve: dating a co-worker is nothing compared to what happens between partners after breaking things off. To his credit, DiNozzo was clearly considering just how difficult that could be, and he nodded, sagely. After another moment he snorted out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I see what you mean." He was quiet for another few moments, then shrugged. "So, for the team, the best bet is no dating, period. But for the team members, for two of them who have had a bad few years and have a chance at making something right, after all of it, that's been there under their noses for a lot of years and still is good, still makes sense and has so much potential..."

The green eyes lifted back to Gibbs' blue, and the team leader could see that DiNozzo had given this a lot of thought, had given most of the consequences the same careful analysis he might give a puzzling case, and still wanted to try. He knew of Tony's deep affection for the team and pride for them all, and knew that he wouldn't risk another split on a whim. More than any of it, though – Gibbs sensed that soon, maybe not this minute, but soon, in a matter of weeks, even days, if he didn't at least blink at Rule Twelve where David and DiNozzo were concerned, he'd have Tony's transfer papers on his desk. His senior agent knew better than to threaten when he wasn't ready to act, but Gibbs sensed it, sensed that at this point in their lives, Tony's feelings for Ziva would trump his need to stay on the team, and if he was forced to choose he'd get himself rotated to another team so he could see her.

Gibbs actually sighed again. "You really were past fifty percent dead this time again, too?"

Tony hesitated, sensing that something monumental had just occurred. Blinking a bit, he fell into the expected response. "Yeah, I think so. I'm pretty sure I can get Brad to write me a work excuse that I was more than fifty percent dead, if you need it."

"I'm sure you could. I don't think you've called in all the favors yet he still owes you for breaking your leg." Gibbs was silent for another moment, then shook his head, "it never occurred to you that you couldn't just invoke Rule Eighteen and avoid all of this?"

Tony laughed softly. "Don't think it didn't occur to me. It did. A lot. But..." He fell silent, watching his boss, wanting to wait for more but knowing nothing more would be said unless he pressed. "Boss?" He looked for the right words, but wasn't sure what he could say at this point. "Not for this. Rule Eighteen isn't a guarantee that you get forgiven. I wouldn't want to bring this on the team – your team – or on Ziva, without ... well, I guess I can't really say without your blessing, but I ..."

"How about just being happy you get to break a Rule without getting fired?"

The grin Gibbs saw in return was brighter than the brightest Christmas star. "I can't think of anything that would make me happier, Boss."

"Than what?"

Ziva appeared back in the doorway, clothes changed and, despite her best efforts, her hair slightly damp from her quick shower and curling softly around her face. "Happier than what, Tony?" she repeated. When she saw both men turn to her quickly, as if startled, her curiosity soared. "What? Did I miss something?" She came over to the bed, flipped back the lid of the pizza box and helped herself to a large piece.

"Just the word that Tony's being sprung in an hour or so." When he sensed DiNozzo's mouth drop a bit in surprise, and heard a small grunt of frustration that he hadn't been told sooner, Gibbs hid his smile. "But – they want someone with him, especially to make sure he gets those breathing treatments and they're done right. I'd make him come bunk with me, but Jack said he'd hold my car hostage 'til I got back." He looked up to the newest member of his team, and lifted an eyebrow. "Did you have any plans for the rest of your time off?"

Ziva shook her head quickly, swallowing a bit of pizza. "No," she then said, actually looking satisfied with the prospect. "He can stay with me."

"No, guys, wait," the patient protested. "I just want to go home to my own little place ... with my own TV and movies and..."

"Y'know, he's got a guestroom. It's not too bad," Gibbs was shrugging toward Ziva. "He might be easier to manage if he was at his own place."

She smiled around another bite, looking smug. "That will do."

"Hey," Tony inserted, but when both Gibbs and Ziva looked to him, waiting, he simply frowned and grumped, "I am here. And conscious. And I don't need a babysitter."

"I will cook for you, Tony. If you like. For being a hero," she finally smiled.

"Oh." His eyebrows went high, and he grinned. "Well, if you insist..." He looked much less perturbed about having a nursemaid than he had moments before.

"Ziva, if you want to go home and pack a bag for a few days at Tony's, take the sedan. One of the local LEOs moved Tony's car into town to their station's lot, and said to call when he's ready to head home and someone would come by, give us a ride to his car."

She looked pleased with the unexpected offer, and nodded. "How many days did they say he needs someone to help him?"

Gibbs managed to keep his expression neutral as Tony again made a face at being discussed as if he weren't in the room. "Brad wanted a week. I think maybe a couple nights will be enough. Brad has enough experience with Tony that he ...exaggerates, sometimes."

At that, Ziva glanced to Tony, who apparently knew about his doctor's deception and simply rolled his eyes. "Then I will pack for three," she announced. "Just in case." She put her hand out toward Gibbs. "Keys?"

He pulled out a pair of keys with their familiar NCIS-numbered tag from the motor pool and tossed them toward her. She snatched them out of the air and reached in the box for another slice. "Probably only Charger in the parking lot," Gibbs said. "Out the front to the left, about half way down the front row."

"I will find it. And, I will be at your place waiting for you, Tony – I will fluff your pillows and make sure your condo is nice and warm and dry." She was enjoying her role as nursemaid a little too much, and Tony couldn't let it go by without his expected grumbling. But as he did, he stole another glance at Gibbs, who clearly knew just what he was doing. Tony felt a bit of wonder to see it: after all the years of Rule 12 being one of the Big Ones, Gibbs not only was letting him break it – he was setting them up for just that.

As Tony was considering this new development, he realized that Ziva was still by his bed, now looking at him closely. He turned on the charm and threw her a sunny smile. "Did you want some more serenading?" he offered. "Maybe when you're cooking for me?"

Once more, he saw the desired result as she dismissed him as being overly-medicated and picked up her go-bag to leave. As she did, however, she paused by Gibbs and said quietly, "perhaps Ducky could talk with his doctors, Gibbs? Certainly there is something they could give him for the pain that is not so ... debilitating, yes?"

Gibbs nodded, not meeting her eyes, and grunted something unintelligible. Apparently satisfied, Ziva left, and Gibbs looked directly at his second, raising his eyebrows expectantly. DiNozzo smirked. "Got it, Boss."

"You'd better," the Gunny warned, his voice low. "Don't make me regret what I just did, DiNozzo."

The megawatt grin was back. "I ... we ... won't let you down," a very happy special agent assured him, also quietly, his ninja not yet out of the building. " ... assuming, of course, that Ziva is interested."

"You're not much of an investigator if you have any doubt of that." Gibbs knew he'd see the grin light up even more, if that were possible. As he did, he shook his head and muttered, "just means I have to add another damn Rule."

DiNozzo's eyebrows went up in question, sure that he saw his boss trying to hide his own smirk around another bite of pizza. "Yeah?"

Gibbs nodded. "Not sure what number to give it, though. Maybe Rule Fourteen, between the 'no lawyers' rule and the rule about working as a team – those may be good reminders." He paused again, this time for effect, looking DiNozzo hard in the eye. "Yeah. Rule Fourteen: no serenading on duty."