Undetermined

After a quick shower he collapsed gratefully into the springs of his own mattress, groaning with the sudden rush of physical release as his muscles relaxed.

He closed his eyes and had just allowed himself to drift into the first embracing stage of deep sleep when the side of his bed shifted and a small voice whimpered, "Daddy, I don't feel good."

Rocketing awake, the agent scrambled to sit up. Finally succeeding, he discovered his daughter. He tugged Abby towards him, quickly yanking her against his chest as his hand went automatically to her forehead.

She whimpered miserably.

He could feel the fever radiating from her skin.

"Ok, Honey," he whispered, sliding out from under her and settling her against the spare pillow. "Hold tight a second and I will be right back."

As he had done more nights than he cared to recall for all of his children at one time or another, Gunny Gibbs hurried to the bathroom, grabbed the thermometer, filled a glass with cold water, soaked a washcloth with cold water and wrung it, and located the fever reducing medicine. Setting the supplies on his night table, he switched on the nearest lamp.

His little girl moaned and curled her body into a ball underneath the covers.

Jethro grabbed his glasses and checked the thermometer's gauge before slipping it under his daughter's tongue. While he waited for a reading he made a visible check- he saw no rash, hives, or physical abnormalities.

Glancing at the clock to confirm he had given the thermometer enough time to do its work, he realized that the time was just past two in the morning.

Jethro blew out a breath before consulting the tiny numbers. It registered a hundred and three. Taking a second look he confirmed the number, and hurriedly made Abby sit up to take the medication.

She was a sick baby, all right.

Smiling reassuringly, though, he waited for her to drink some of the water to wash away the medicinal taste, then gently bathed her face with the cooled washcloth.

"Ready to go back to bed?" he whispered, shifting the covers to help her ease back out and return to her room.

That brought sudden tears, and Abby begged miserably, "Daddy, I want to stay here with you, please, for a while."

He regarded her sympathetically, resigned to the inevitable, and watched as she curled back into her previous position. Of his four children, Tony and Abby would demand to stay with him any time they had significant fevers, refusing any suggestion that they would be more comfortable in their own rooms.

Yes, eventually they would move, but not until their fevers had dramatically lessened.

Plumping the pillow under her, he regarded the clock again. It was much too early to call Ducky.

He needed to make sure his daughter slept and the medication had a chance to take effect.

Cutting off the light, he slid back into bed. Abby scooted over to lie across his chest. Pinned, he gently rubbed her back until she fell into a fitful sleep, and exhausted, he slid into sleep a few minutes later.

Just a few hours passed before the older kids hurried through the house grabbing last minute school items and then raced out the door. They met Ducky as the doctor made his way into the residence.

Regarding Jethro with a grin he greeted him with an observation. "Well, three fourths of your progeny appear completely healthy and robust."

Sipping a cup of steaming coffee clutched in his left hand Gibbs thrust out his right, which held a fragrant cup of hot tea. "Made you some tea, Duck, and you know how much I appreciate having you come here before work."

Acknowledging the offering, Dr. Mallard waved towards the kitchen. "Let me take care of the tea after I have examined young Abigail."

Gibbs watched him go, appreciative of his friend's work ethic.

Half an hour later Jethro settled Abby on the sofa downstairs with her favorite stuffed animal, Bert, several books, and the television's remote control. Within reach he had placed both juice and water, and he kissed the tip of her nose and gave the final instructions. "Ok, now remember that I will check on you at lunch, but that you can call me if you need me, Baby."

She nodded, still too miserable to enjoy the fact that she had the house to herself and would not be required to make an appearance at school for the rest of the week.

Holding up her arms insistently she pulled her father down for a hug.

"How long does flu last, Dad? How long did Ducky say?"

"Ducky said you'll feel pretty rough for several days. Now, I left the phone right here, and if your tummy feels sick and you can not make the bathroom, I put the little trash can right beside you."

Kissing her again, he made a visual check of the area before calling out his good bye.

As he cranked the car he replayed the time the family had been awake, the last hour or so. He had double checked the three oldest earlier that morning, despite the fact that they expressed their good health.

Surprisingly, all three insisted they did not want to miss school for any reason that week, citing not wanting to fall behind as an explanation.

On any other day their protests would have sparked suspicion.

Today, however, the exhausted father did not take time to dissect their reaction.

Reversing out of the driveway and onto the street Gibbs pondered the irony of kids demanding school instead of begging to avoid it for exactly the thirty seconds it took before he turned onto the next street.

He chalked it up to responsibility. Perhaps high school had matured them.

For their part, the three oldest steamrolled towards their own schemes.

At school that morning Kate and Rachel celebrated obtaining permission for Kate to spend the night with Rachel.

The girls giggled gleefully at their lockers as Rachel congratulated her friend. "Smart move telling your dad we had to work on a psychology project Friday night."

Kate danced in place a couple of seconds before agreeing, "Well, I made it close to the truth. Going to Beau's party will have us engaging in some psychology all right Friday!"

Across Washington at the exact same time Bryson pulled his car to the curb and watched Tim alight near the subway entrance closest to the Smithsonian. "Ok, Man, make sure you get back to this spot this afternoon. I need to get home right after work."
Grinning, Tim opened the door so quickly that he nearly lost his balance. He turned to lean back in and thank his accomplice. "Have no fear- I just appreciate this so much. I really want to see this Wright exhibit."

Bryson nodded, "Well, your brother's a good guy, Tim, and he said it would mean a lot to him for me to help you. That's what I call kin-to-keep."

Back at the communal high school Tony and Ariel shared a passionate, celebratory kiss, interrupted only when the warning bell for the first class shrilled.

Pulling away Ariel used both hands to press lightly on Tony's chest and whispered, "Hold that thought, now. Thanks to your brother helping out with your grade sheet, you and I will have a long and lovely evening Friday night instead of you grounded and me lonesome."

Closing the distance between them, Tony maneuvered her against the wall and leaned down for another quick kiss. Stepping back, he grinned at her. "My heart felt that same fear multiplied by a hundred when I handed Dad my progress report. Little Timmy knows his stuff, though, and my father practically radiated with his pride for me when he saw the grades."

"Hmmm…" she giggled. "Have you no shame, Tony?"

"Absolutely," he agreed. "However, I have none in this situation."

Ariel laughed at his honest assessment, and the two seniors slipped into their classrooms.