AN1: I'm absolutely blown away by the response to the last chapter. You guys really are amazing, I'm in awe. THANK YOU! And now, for your enjoyment, a much lighter chapter, almost fluffy. Happy reading :)

Dislaimer: It hurts every time, but they're not mine *sobs*

Chapter 4

When Ducky closed the hotel room's door on them, Abby turned into her boss' chest. "How could they do that, Gibbs?" she asked plaintively, huddling closer as his arms encircled her back. "How could they do that to him?"

"World's a cruel place, Abs" Jethro said matter-of-factly. He understood far too well the urge to make someone hurt, make someone suffer for something they'd done, or even die for it, and he knew that put him much closer to that invisible line you weren't supposed to cross than the scientist in his arms. But jumping a cop just because you were busted, and doing that just because he was smarter than you, that was beyond what he could comprehend. But then, unlike Ducky, he had long ago found that doing his job was much easier if he didn't try to understand the motivation behind the crimes he faced on a daily basis. It also was what enabled him to keep coming back every day.

Abby suddenly bounced upright, nearly making him bite the tip of his tongue off. "C'mon!" she urged, dragging him towards the stairs.

"What?" he growled.

"Tony's gonna need some clean clothes. And you'd better not be letting him go back to his place alone after this" she warned, "because I'm not going to stand for it. He got hurt doing your bidding, and I know you care about him, so you'd best just forget that second 'b' for a while and help him out" she warned.

"Abs!" he tried to break through her tirade. "I wasn't going to leave him alone." His stomach had clenched at her words, and whilst he knew she didn't blame him, it only reinforced that which he was feeling. The Baltimore detective had gotten hurt on his watch, playing for his team, following the spirit, if not the exact lettering, of his orders, and it had been him leading the back-up that had arrived too late to be of any use.

"Good. Now come on!"

They made the drive to DiNozzo's small apartment in good time. Considering all that Jethro had seen and heard from and about the young detective, the place was nothing like that trash-littered, pizza-strewn, bachelor-pad he'd almost come to expect. But then, he'd realised early on just how much of Tony's façade was nothing more than an elaborate show, and he'd even begun to enjoy some of the crazy antics that entertained the squad-room.

As Abby bounced into the bedroom to find an overnight bag, Jethro took a minute to wander, taking in the small but comfy sofa, cleverly refurbished wooden shelving that held his large TV and joint DVD/VCR player, an extensive movie collection, a high-quality sound system, the entertainment system being the only object of any monetary value in the room, and an even larger CD collection which, to his surprise, held everything from pop to classic rock, from jazz to country to classical.

The place was neat and organised, tastefully decorated despite the shoestring budget, often redone by the young man himself, in a manner that reflected said young man's personality; a fondness for movies, a little kooky, a taste for the finer things, with a sophistication and intelligence his mild manner and sense of humour belied.

The bedroom held a large double bed, neatly made, with navy sheets, more than a few pillows, and a dark green coverlet. A beautiful painting of a Greek coastal scene adorned one wall, whilst another held some scenic beach photographs. No black and red silk hangings, no mirror on the ceiling. Jethro nodded to himself in satisfaction. The apartment was just further proof of what he'd already figured out; DiNozzo was all smoke and mirrors, playing up the rich, frat-boy jock in order to hide his true self.

"Abs?" Jethro asked, watching her pawing through the man's drawers with a little too much interest.

"What do you think he'd want as underwear?" she asked, a gleam in her eye as she went through that particular drawer.

"You want to let me do that?" Jethro asked, coming over. It seemed a little intimate, as he'd only known the man a week, but better than the damp articles of clothing with which he would be stuck if NCIS' forensic scientist didn't stop her drooling.

"Naw, thought you should grab him his shaving kit, toothbrush, that sort of stuff."

"We're not keeping him" Jethro warned, ducking into the bathroom, glad to be let off the hook on that one.

"Aww, why not Gibbs? I like him Ducky likes him, even you like him. And don't say you don't, because I saw how angry and all Papa-Bear you got whenever you thought someone had hurt him." Not to mention the argument of near-epic proportions that she'd witnessed not twenty minutes ago, to her delight. Normally, she only ever heard the stories of her silver-haired fox confronting the director or taking down dirtbags, so despite the seriousness of the situation, a little part of her had truly enjoyed seeing that famous temper unleashed firsthand.

There was no reply from the bathroom, although Abby thought maybe she heard a grunt. But then, she knew her current partner-in-crime, and she wasn't expecting one. Just that earlier argument with Tony had used his word quota for the month, so she figured the senior agent needed some time to recuperate. With a shrug, she turned back to her task at hand.

Tony, it seemed, favoured boxers, no surprise, but to her satisfaction, she found a bit of everything in there, and she scolded herself as her imagination wandered into x-rated territory. Abby let her hands sift through, feeling the material, choosing out the two softest flannel ones, as well as two older, well-worn pairs of boxer-briefs, thinking that if Ducky put some ointment or salve on the area, it would help keep it contained. She couldn't help but explore his varied taste though, eying a pair of emerald green silk very brief briefs with an appreciative gaze as she pictured his slim, muscular body, dark golden skin and matching emerald eyes.

Oh, yeah. She might not be interested in him in that way, but the man was wonderful eye candy. And he knew it too.

"We're bringing him back here tomorrow, he probably wants the comfort of his own place." As accustomed as Jethro had gotten to using words like 'raped' or 'murdered' in conjunction with an investigation or case, it felt foreign to say it about someone he'd come to see as for more than a temporary colleague; someone he'd come to care about, even if he wasn't ready to admit it yet. Especially when admitting it was akin to admitting his own failure to protect the detective.

"Well then someone'd better stay with him, because otherwise he'll rabbit." Abby reluctantly closed the underwear drawer and opened the one beside it, rooting around for some thick, warm socks. She imagined that being hurt like that would make someone cold. She was cold just thinking about it.

"I know, Abs" Jethro said, coming back into the room. He hadn't packed too much, thinking that it would be more motivation for the young man to return here tomorrow. And that would be half the battle won, because with Abby and Ducky on his side, Jethro knew he could best Tony. Not to mention, the veritable drugstore of hair-care, skin-care, and God-knew-what-else products scared him. It appeared the part of Tony that enjoyed the finer things in life needed more products than some of his ex-wives.

But he also knew better than to assume anything with the young man. The Baltimore detective had proven to be a formidable opponent when he so chose, cleverer than anyone gave him credit for, and wilier beyond belief. He annoyed Jethro to no end, because the older man could never predict the sudden turns the younger man and his brain would take when faced with a situation.

"Having fun?" he asked sarcastically, seeing her head bent studiously over a drawer.

"Just trying to decide between socks" she answered, and her voice sobered suddenly. "I'm trying to find the things that look the most comfortable and worn-in" she explained. Minus her underwear foray, of course.

Jethro nearly smiled at her, and chucked her gently under the chin in lieu of words. Opening the closet, he was struck by the array of designer clothing, of shirts and ties and suits and jackets and pants and shoes . . . no one man had this many clothes! It was almost scarier than the bathroom.

"Boss, comfy stuff'll be in the dresser" Abby informed him. "Closet is for things that hang. Comfy things like sweatpants and sweatshirts don't hang." She was digging through the middle drawer, pulling out an Ohio State Varsity Basketball t-shirt, and an Alpha-Chi-Delta fraternity one.

"No guy has that many clothes." Jethro voiced his thoughts as he closed the closet door to crouch beside her.

"Tony's a guy. He's all guy" Abby said with a smirk, and Jethro felt a sudden wave of fury that had nothing to do with reason and everything to do with keeping DiNozzo's wandering, experienced paws off his Abby. Who was likely just as experienced as Tony, Jethro reminded himself sternly, and probably played much more on the wilder side.

"Abs" he warned, tugging open the bottom drawer.

"What?" she asked innocently, then turned away as he fixed an icy glare on her. "Ah, now this is more like it. Look, he really was an athlete." Another Varsity logo, this time on a Buckeyes sweatshirt, followed by a pair of sweatpants with 'BASKETBALL' proclaimed across the butt.

"Doubting your sources?" Jethro asked rhetorically, knowing that wasn't the case. The young woman already knew everything there was to know about Tony, as did he. As soon as he'd been forced into a joint investigation, he'd had Abby do her hacking-computer thing, and he himself had done a background check worthy of the Secret Service. He told himself it had been solely based on a need to know with whom he was working, and had nothing at all to do with the enigma, the puzzle that was Anthony DiNozzo, and the more-than-merely-professional interest Jethro had in him.

"Not a chance, Bossman. I just usually don't get to see confirmation of my work beyond a ding from one of my babies" she explained, referring to the machines in her lab. "He played varsity basketball and football, a real talent on the court with chances of making it at least to the minor leagues, until he broke his leg senior year on the football field. Actually, I think it was broken for him. Some guy hit him wrong or something. Tony didn't break his own leg. That'd be really hard to do, I mean bone, because of the molecular components, the cellular structure and the crystalline-like lattice, is one of the strongest materials on the planet, as well as one of the lightest. The force required to break a leg bone is, like, massive. We've been trying to copy it for years, with no luck, which really isn't surprising when you think of it, because-"

"Abs" Jethro cut her off. He'd tried to listen, he really had. Every now and then he attempted to listen to Abby's ramblings or Ducky's tales, and it seemed the guilt he was feeling over DiNozzo had facilitated this particular attempt, but honest-to-God, there just came a point when he couldn't take anymore.

"Right." She quickly rewound through her head, until she found where she'd left off, before taking off on the subject of human bone. "He was team captain in basketball" she added.

Jethro tucked DiNozzo's etui in the side pocket of the black overnight bag. He was still in the denial stage, and wasn't planning on keeping the young man any longer, despite Abby's and Ducky's ardent protests and none-too-subtle hints that the Homicide detective would make a wonderful new team member.

Jethro already knew he would. Tony was smart, instinctive, street-wise, and had a unique way of looking at things from a completely different perspective that made connexions his own brain would never follow. His interrogation style, whilst unorthodox and sometimes painful to watch, was unerringly effective, and the detective's seeming lack of aptitude with technology just endeared him to Jethro even further. He wasn't sure if DiNozzo really was as incompetent as he appeared to be, as Jethro had quickly realised that, the more the young man pretended to be stupid, the better he understood. Most importantly though, Tony balanced him. With his lightness, humour, and easy way with people, he smoothed Jethro's abrupt, monosyballic intensity.

Didn't mean he wanted to hire the former basketball star, however. Tony had already gotten in too far, and whilst Jethro was determined to see this through to the end, his guilt at his own role in the situation demanding that, it didn't mean things had to go any further than that. At this moment, he was fulfilling rule forty-five, and then, rule eleven would then come into play. And it was as easy as that, he told himself firmly.

"Why two of everything?" he asked, having observed her packing for the last few minutes.

"In case it gets soiled. Or all sweaty or something" she said quietly, and Jethro was touched by her thoughtfulness. He kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

"We're done."

Abby slipped in a pair of well-worn black sports sandals to use as slippers, and zipped the bag shut. Jethro hoisted it over his shoulder, and they headed back for the hotel room.