It had been an incredibly long night with Tony tossing and turning in feverish nightmares, Sacks and Fornell taking turns soothing him and changing the wet towels in order to bring down his temperature; not to mention Gibbs calling and/or writing every half an hour, demanding update on the condition of his favorite agent.

By the time the sun came up in the morning, Tony was feeling much better, while his two caretakers looked as if they had been run over by a truck. When Tony opened his eyes, feeling a bit weak and achy but otherwise all right, he found himself in an unfamiliar bed – that was, in all honestly, probably the most comfortable piece of furniture he'd ever slept on – and two FBI agents asleep on the floor at each sides next to him.

He couldn't for the life of him figure out how he had ended up… well… here. Wherever 'here' was. His memories since shooting Jeffrey were hazy at best and completely non-existent at worst; he thought he could remember his boss' worried face, and Ducky assisting him to take a shower… argh, well, that one was embarrassing, especially since he seemed to remember Palmer had been present at one point for it as well. Luckily, Kate and Abby hadn't seen him naked… Well, at least he believed and hoped so.

Anyway, he was fairly sure he had been brought back to the bullpen after that… no… wait: his wrists had been bandaged first by… Ducky? Probably. Or the autopsy gremlin; seeing that perhaps Ducky had thought this was a great opportunity for his young trainee to practice on someone living for a change. Not that he was certain he could be considered 'living' in the near-comatose state he'd been in.

After going back to the bullpen, he found that his memory went blank; he literally had no idea what had happened after that. So, there was the question again: how had he ended up in this undeniably wonderful bed with the two FBI agents who probably hated him the most snoring loudly on the floor? Where was Gibbs or Kate or even McGeek? Or anyone from NCIS; his own agency? How had these two carried him here without him noticing and… really: why was he tangled in a bunch of slightly wet towels?

But most of all: where was the bathroom!? Eventually ruling this last question the most important one, Tony carefully navigated himself towards the edge of the bed, wincing when his abused joints protested against the action.

'Why do my muscles hurt so much?' – He wondered silently as he moved his feet down on the incredibly soft and warm carpet, mindful not to step on Fornell who had just emitted a loud snort and turned onto his side in his sleep.

Carefully stepping over the lead FBI agent, Tony exited the bedroom and went to explore the house, looking for the toilet. He soon found it inside a spacious bathroom just to the left from the room he had come from. And if he was already in there, the bathtub and the various bath foams looked very inviting as well…

After a delicious hot bath, he snooped around in the apartment, having decided he wasn't tired anymore but rather hungry instead. He found the fridge easily enough and tentatively opened it. While he'd never had trouble looking through Kate's purse or McGeek's desk drawer uninvited, he usually drew the line at raiding others' food supply. All his reservations about the matter melted instantly though as soon as he spotted his favorite kind of pizza right at eye-level, waiting just for him. He quickly snatched the Italian dish and unceremoniously pushed it into the microwave, his mouth already watering in anticipation of eating it soon.

While he was waiting for the delicious food to heat up properly (and why did it take that long anyway?!), he studied the numerous magnets and other decorations that littered the place. He had already concluded during his earlier roaming that this must be Fornell's home, since there were photos of a blond little girl resembling the grumpy FBI agent all over the living room. Even in the kitchen: smaller, brightly-colored plates and cute cutlery with the pictures of cartoon figures stood on the counter, and the drawings of said small child hung on the fridge door, held firmly in place by various Disney princess magnets. Tony had never seen a happy home like that before; his own childhood house having been kept spotlessly clean by the staff and – at his father's strict orders – carefully void of any indication of a little boy living there at all. It wouldn't do for business partners to realize he'd had a trouble magnet for a son, the man had explained. Tony, as such, had always been sent to his room and instructed to remain quiet while his father entertained colleagues, pretending to be an independent bachelor whose only desire in life was to work for them or with them. That second part, at least, had been true: the man hadn't cared for his son or his late wife for a moment, Tony knew this now. Back then however, he simply hadn't been able to figure out what he'd done wrong to deserve that kind of treatment and what he should do to earn his father's love…

Finally, the microwave finished its work and gave a loud 'ping' to signal the end of its course. Tony winced and listened for a moment for any sounds of the two men having woken but soon determined they luckily hadn't. He grabbed his pizza and a huge mugful of his favorite tea that had, by chance, also waited for him, already half-prepared. This was better than a five-star hotel, he decided contently, as he sat on the couch and started surfing the Fornell family's Netflix for something to watch.

"Wonderful!" – He had chosen one of his favorite movies (The Wolf of Wall Street), so he settled down with his food and drink to relax and enjoy some downtime.

NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS

Two films, three mugs of tea and the entire pizza later Tony was again sleeping blissfully, completely unaware of the two FBI agents gaping at him.

"How could he eat that much?"

"He's DiNutso. That's what he does."

"But he's not even overweight! That's impossible!"

"No. I told you: he's DiNutso. Everything's possible when it comes to him." – Fornell said it as if it made complete sense. – "At least he didn't try to leave. Imagine trying to explain to Jethro that we've lost his boy."

"God forbid!" – Sacks took a step closer and gently pulled the remote control from the oblivious man's hand. – "Shall we wake him?" – He whispered a bit desperately.

"Nah, leave him be. He'll wake when he's ready."

Fornell, ignoring the other man's relieved sigh, grabbed his cell and typed:

'Boy's fine. Fever's down. Sleeping again.'

The answer was immediate, clearly showing that Gibbs, unlike Fornell and Sacks, had probably not slept a moment but waited for news on his colleague's health instead.

'He ate?'

'Oh, yeah: pizza, tea gone. Watched TV. Fell asleep.

'Good.'

Hoping his friend would finally be able to rest now, the lead FBI agent threw his phone onto the table and pulled a deck of cards from one of the drawers.

"Poker?" – He asked.

"Sure!"

NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS

When Tony woke again, he found Fornell and Sacks busy arguing and while they were obviously trying to keep their voices down, the were failing at it spectacularly.

"You cheated!"

"No, I didn't! But you did! I saw you put that card back and then take another one when you thought I wasn't looking!"

"I did no such thing!"

Tony chuckled, the sound finally drawing the attention of the other two.

"Kids, kids, kids… Ts-ts." – He said, mock-seriously, scooting over to see the cards in both men's hands. – "He's got a two pair…" – He pointed at Sacks who glared at him. – "… and he has a Full House." – He pointed at the triumphant-looking Fornell. – "He wins."

The FBI team leader proudly pulled all the M&Ms towards himself, but before he could eat any of them, Tony snatched the whole pile up and away from him.

"Hey, DiNutso! Those are mine! I won them!" – If he sounded somewhat whiny, it was pure imagination, of course.

"Nope." – Tony smiled cheekily and threw half a dozen candies into his mouth, causing his next words to sound muffled and slurred. – "'Cause you did indeed cheat." – Sacks gave an evil smirk, upon which Tony turned towards him, pointing an accusing finger. – "And so did you." – The smirk was immediately wiped off the agent's face.

Fornell shook his head, watching as the young NCIS agent quickly made all the M&Ms disappear.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better, DiNutso." – He said more than a little bit sarcastically. – "If you're feeling completely rested, well-fed and also otherwise comfortable enough with the temperature and the humidity of the room, maybe we should proceed-"

"As a matter of fact, Toby…" – Tony cleared his throat. – "I'm feeling a bit achy all over and my throat is sore, not to mention my wrists…" – He held up his hands to show off his already fading but still a bit visible bruises.

"DiNozzo…" – Sacks warned. – "Don't try our patience!"

"Just don't slack, Slacks because then you'll be sacked!" – Tony countered in an annoying sing-song voice.

"Huh!?" – The FBI agent blinked while Fornell tried and failed to cover a laugh by badly pretending to have a violent coughing fit. He just shrugged at his right-hand man's exasperated expression and turned to his guest.

"And how long do you think it will take for you to get better, DiNutso?"

Tony seemed to think hard about the matter.

"Hmmm…" – He wondered. – "I don't know… Maybe a few days?"

"You have until Friday." – Came the strict verdict. Since it was Tuesday, Tony decided it wasn't such a bad deal, so he nodded sweetly. – "And Emily comes Friday afternoon, so you better be gone by then."

"Okay." – Tony smiled charmingly, then suddenly clapped his hands as if they had just finished a big assignment that had gone particularly well and deserved a praise for it. – "Do you have popcorn? It would be great with this movie…"