4: Heart to Heart

Tony sighed as he stepped into his apartment, maneuvering bags of take-out as he swung his foot against the door to close it behind him. He used his elbow to switch on the lights, relaxing as the warm glow lit the place. He smiled slightly, then moved into the kitchen to dump the bags on the counter before heading to the bedroom to change.

"Sanctuary!" he called out quietly, grinning to himself and he exchanged slacks for sweatpants.

Gibbs appeared in the doorway. "What was that?"

Tony straightened up, staring at the other man. "Damn, you're sneaky. I didn't hear the door."

Gibbs shrugged. "I like to keep in practice. What did you say?"

"Sanctuary? Lon Chaney as Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, 1923. Classic."

Gibbs made a show of looking around. "I don't see any bells."

"You do have some cultural background. Always suspected."

Gibbs tilted his head. "Sanctuary, huh? That why you've never had McGee or David over here?"

Tony pulled on his sweatshirt. "Yeah, I guess. Not interested in hearing their comments as they try to analyze everything."

"Ducky, me, Abby…"

"You guys accept things easier." Tony finished putting things away, then motioned toward the duffle bag hanging from Gibbs' hand. "I'll unpack the food… take over in here."

Gibbs nodded and tossed the bag on the queen size bed. "When'd you get this bigger bed?"

"A few months ago." Tony raised his voice so Gibbs could hear him from the kitchen. "Decided a solitary bedroom didn't have to mean I had to sacrifice comfort. 'S nice to spread out, you know?"

He listened for an answer but didn't get one. He unpacked the burgers and fries he'd picked up at the diner, then went into the liquor cabinet and pulled out the bottle of Gibbs' favorite bourbon, pouring just a splash into each glass. Gibbs came in and sat at the counter; Tony eyed his baggy jeans and USMC t-shirt over the long-sleeved shirt, sighing noisily.

Gibbs took a huge bite of his burger and chewed, looking at Tony from the corner of his eye. "What?"

Tony gestured toward Gibbs' upper body. "You are never going to set any fashion trends, you know."

Gibbs snorted. "Not trying."

"Obviously."

Gibbs smiled as he popped a fry into his mouth. "If you're really good, for your birthday I'll let you buy me an outfit."

"Shouldn't that be your birthday present? You're supposed to give me something for my birthday."

"You think I want some fancy outfit for my birthday? Definitely a gift for you, not me."

Tony grinned as he sipped the bourbon; it had been a while since they'd bantered quite like this, and he was glad to have it back.

After dinner, Tony convinced Gibbs to take his drink into the living room while he cleaned up. Once he was done, he poured himself a bit more bourbon and then stood in the doorway, watching Gibbs as he sat on the couch and stared at the blank television screen, his glass on the coffee table in front of him.

Several different emotions chased across Gibbs' face; Tony thought he recognized impatience and discontent as the most obvious. When those were replaced by sadness, though, Tony moved, sitting a few away on the couch.

"You look like you're thinking hard."

Gibbs glanced at him, then leaned back, resting his head on the back of the couch and looking up at the ceiling. "This isn't me, Tony."

Tony blinked at that. "Who are you then, and what have you done with the real Gibbs?"

Gibbs huffed out a breath and reached up to run his fingers through his hair. "I'm serious. I don't… I'm not this open, easy to read. Don't want to be. Yet here I am with you, talking to Ducky, Abby…"

Tony waited, but Gibbs didn't say anything else, just closed his eyes and sat there.

"Well…" Tony cleared his throat. "Ducky said it – you've been through a pretty traumatic experience. Bound to change you, at least a bit."

Gibbs sat up suddenly, then got to his feet and began pacing around the room. Tony set his own glass down on the coffee table and watched him.

"Guys I served with, good, dedicated Marines, some of them saw and did things they couldn't accept. They were wounded, or they had to kill, or they watched friends die… they're the ones who've been through something traumatic. They had PTSD, some of them to the point where they couldn't serve anymore. And what the hell did I do? I was building a boat."

Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "Gibbs… Jethro."

Gibbs turned to face him.

"Are you saying you haven't earned Ducky's diagnosis? 'Cause that's kind of silly."

"Silly?" Gibbs eyes narrowed.

"You think most people would handle waking up as a different species? Not being able to talk, having to rely on others, not knowing if you were gonna be yourself again – ever? If Ducky's right, I'm surprised it's not hitting you harder than it has."

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, then his shoulders slumped a bit and he walked over to the window near the piano, looking out at the city. Tony waited again for him to say something, but Gibbs stayed silent, so Tony got up and walked over to him until he was standing next to him.

"Look, Jethro – it's okay if I call you that, right?"

Gibbs sighed and continued to look out the window. "Of course it is."

"Ah, okay. Well, I don't know what it was like for you most of the time you were a fox. But I do know you were more affectionate, more open… playful even. Maybe some of that is sticking with you?" Tony tried to meet Gibbs' eyes, but the other man kept his gaze where it was. "I know you used to say that second B stood for bastard… but you've mellowed a bit in the past several years. Maybe being the fox helped you reach that side of yourself?" He paused, grimaced a bit, then spoke more hesitantly. "What were you like before I met you? Before you lost your family?"

Gibbs stiffened, then turned to face him, meeting Tony's gaze, his eyes roaming over the younger man's face. Then he seemed to shake himself a bit, and turned to go back to the coffee table, where he grabbed his bourbon and downed it in a single motion.

Tony leaned on the piano, crossed his arms loosely over his chest, and waited.

Gibbs stood there, looking down at the empty glass, then set it down carefully and turned to look at Tony. "Shannon and Kelly… they got the best part of me. When I lost them, something inside me shut down. Never did get it back."

Tony tried to decide if he should push harder, but before he could say anything Gibbs continued. "We would have movie nights when I was home, the three of us on the couch, watching movies Kelly would like. Sometimes we'd have popcorn fights. I remember…" His voice trailed off; Tony held his breath. "I remember so much laughter, feeling happier than I ever had, before or since." He turned to face Tony, who breathed in sharply when he saw moisture in Gibbs' eyes. "Tried to get it back, but none of the women since Shannon could get me to let my guard down."

They stared at each other, and Tony took a careful step forward. "You let me get close, when we were in New Hampshire."

Gibbs stared a moment longer, then nodded slowly, holding Tony's gaze. "I wanted to. Felt right. Easy."

"Like it was okay because you weren't entirely yourself."

"Maybe."

They looked at each other a moment longer, then Gibbs cleared his throat and looked away. Tony reached up to scratch his head; his gaze landed on his DVD collection. "Wanna watch the second movie in the trilogy?"

Gibbs followed his gaze, then shook his head slowly. "Not sure I've got the focus for it."

"No problem. What do you want to do?"

Gibbs sat back down on the couch and rested his head on the back. "No clue."

Tony moved forward, sitting next to him, this time closer. "You tired? Could just go to sleep."

Gibbs sighed, then surprised Tony by shifting over until he was leaning against him. "Usually this time of night I'm working on the boat."

Tony hesitated for a moment, then reached up with his free hand, gently touching Gibbs' face. "We could go over to your place if you want, hang out there, see if you can get back into it."

Gibbs shook his head. "Maybe tomorrow."

Tony started to speak, and closed his mouth. Don't push, he chided himself.

"Wanna listen to some music? Try to relax?"

Gibbs nodded toward the piano. "You play that thing?"

"Been a while, but yeah. How about letting me practice a few times first, so I don't embarrass myself?"

Gibbs huffed out a laugh. "Sure."

Tony got up and headed for his stereo, putting in a CD and then heading back to the couch as the sound of a piano concerto filled the air. Gibbs listened for a moment, then shook his head. "You are full of surprises."

Tony shrugged. "Helps me unwind."

Gibbs looked over at him, then reached out to tug him closer, keeping his arm around him and resting his hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Tony."

Tony relaxed into his side. "For what, exactly?"

"Having my six. Being that loyal Saint Bernard all these years. Being patient."

Tony smiled. "You're welcome."

They sat there in silence for a while, Gibbs deep in thought while Tony eventually dozed off. He woke up when the music ended, sitting up and stretching while Gibbs watched.

Tony used a remote to shut the stereo off, then turned to look at Gibbs. "Time to turn in?"

Gibbs nodded slowly. "I can stay out here if you'd rather."

"Don't be ridiculous. You said it yourself, we shared a bed before, no reason we can't do it again."

Tony held out his hand, and Gibbs took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. They took turns in the bathroom; Tony stripped down to boxers before getting into bed, and Gibbs joined him a few minutes later in boxers and his t-shirt.

Tony turned off the bedside lamp; dim light from the street made its way in through the blinds. "Night, Jethro."

Gibbs grunted and shifted onto his side, his back to Tony, who reached out and laid his hand on Gibbs shoulder for a moment. "Sleep well."

Gibbs tensed, then turned around so he was facing Tony. "You too." He lifted a hand, reaching forward to trace Tony's face with his fingertips.

Tony didn't move, just waited to see what Gibbs would do. Don't push, don't push…

Gibbs leaned forward and gently touched his lips to Tony's forehead. "Still working it through, Tony."

Tony nodded, reaching for Gibbs' hand and squeezing the fingers that had been resting on his face. "I don't mind waiting."

Gibbs returned the pressure, the moved back, resting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes. Tony moved their hands down to the mattress, keeping the contact between them as he fell asleep.

He was on the mountainside again, at the campsite where they played a cross between tag and keep-away. There was no sign of their tent, or anything else. Gibbs raised his hand, relieved to see that he actually had a hand instead of a paw. The light was strange… either twilight or just before dawn, Gibbs wasn't sure. There was a crashing noise off to his right; he turned to face it, getting ready to face whatever threat was coming at him.

Tony burst into the clearing, looking around frantically. "Gibbs!" He ran to the other side, grabbing onto a tree trunk. "Damn it, Gibbs! Where the hell are you?"

Gibbs tried to call out to him, but he couldn't make a sound. He tried to move forward, but it felt as though his feet were anchored to the ground.

Tony turned around, half staggering into the clearing, then sat on one of the large rocks. His shoulders slumped, and he rested his forehead on one hand. "Think, Anthony… where would he go?" Tony looked up, and Gibbs felt as if he's been punched in the gut at the sight of the naked despair on his face. "I screwed up… should have been Abby here, not me… must have messed up the ritual." He stood, started moving in another direction, calling out Gibbs' name. Then he stopped, falling to his knees. "How the hell am I going to find a fox if he doesn't want to be found?"

Gibbs felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck. He turned to see one of the large trees shift form; the tree spirit stood there then, reaching out for him, and Gibbs stumbled backwards, running into Ducky, who glared at him.

"So, Jethro, you'll run away from your fears, but you won't run to help Anthony?"

Gibbs tried to protest, but he still couldn't speak. Tony remained on his knees, head in his hands, talking to himself, trying to decide what to do. He didn't seem to notice either of them. Gibbs tried to reach out for him, but now even his arms weren't under his control.

Then the long branch-like fingers of the tree spirit landed on his shoulder and he felt himself start to shift into the shape of the fox.

Gibbs woke to Tony calling his name. "Jethro, come on, wake up. You're human, we're home, you're okay…"

He sat up. "I'm awake."

Tony leaned over and turned on the light. "That was… interesting."

Gibbs rubbed his eyes, then looked at Tony. "Ducky looked pretty pissed off."

"No kidding." Tony looked at him searchingly. "It didn't happen like that."

Gibbs nodded. "I know… but it could have."

"You'd have taken off and left me on that mountain? Knowing I wouldn't stop looking for you?"

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment. "No… no, I wouldn't ."

"Didn't think so."

Gibbs looked at Tony for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony stared at him. "Uh, wow. You break a rule and I don't even know why."

"I've been so wrapped up in my own head that I never really thought about how much you've been dealing with."

"I wasn't a fox."

"No… but you were the one who had to get us to that mountain, and that dream gave me the strong impression that you were worried the ritual wouldn't work."

Tony shrugged. "Not exactly used to that sort of thing." He bit his lip. "Can't say I felt all that great when you didn't turn back right away… and when I woke up the next morning and you were gone…"

Gibbs didn't think, he just reached out and pulled Tony into a hug. "I wouldn't have left you like that. I don't know what I would have done… but I would have somehow let you know."

Tony's arms came around him and he held on tightly. "You know," he said, "if we're going to keep sharing dreams, we need to share more fun dreams."

Gibbs chuckled at that. "No kidding."

Tony pulled away and met his eyes, a small smile on his face. "Maybe if we plan out our next dream ahead of time?"

Gibbs couldn't help but smile at that thought. Tony's eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe instead of dreaming about hiking and foxes and tree spirits and annoyed medical examiners, we could dream about sailing or something!"

Gibbs reached out and pulled Tony close again, this time pressing a kiss to his lips instead of his forehead.

A surprised noise came from Tony's throat, but he got with the program quickly, returning the kiss and sliding one hand up Gibbs' back and into his hair, while the other hand moved to the back of his neck and held him in place.

Gibbs had one hand on the back of Tony's head, one on his shoulder. Their lips slid against each other, and there was just a hint of tongue sweeping back and forth; he wasn't entirely sure whose.

Tony shifted closer, pushing Gibbs back toward the mattress. Someone made a noise, or maybe both of them did; Tony let go suddenly, pulling back, and Gibbs thought he heard him whisper 'don't push,' but he wasn't sure.

Tony shot him a small smile, and seemed to be hunting for something to say. Gibbs moved forward, and Tony's eyes widened as he was the one pushed backwards, Gibbs moving to cover him with his body, taking up where they'd just left off.

Gibbs took one of Tony's hands in his, lacing their fingers together and holding them on the pillow next to Tony's head. Tony's mouth opened under his, and they lost themselves a little as they tasted and explored each other for several minutes.

Gibbs slowed the pace, eventually pulling back and looking carefully at Tony, who stared up at him, then grinned widely.

"Wow. Bossman's got mad skills."

Gibbs laughed, ducking his head. Then he raised it back up to look at Tony seriously. "I'm not running away from you, Tony, or from this. I want to believe what I feel is real and just me… and I know Abby and Ducky made a lot of sense. But…"

Tony's grin changed to a more relaxed smile. "It's alright, Jethro. I get it, I do. Still more than willing to wait for you to be sure." He waggled his eyebrows. "Won't mind if you feel like testing the waters every so often, just to sort of check on things."

Gibbs leaned in to nip at Tony's lower lip, then let go and rolled off of him. "I think that can probably be arranged."

"Good."

Tony turned and stretched as he switched the light off again. Then he moved closer, resting his head on Jethro's shoulder and putting one arm around his waist. "This okay?"

"Fine."

They were both asleep again in a little while, and when they dreamed, it was about sleeping curled up together, but as man and fox.