To Gibbs blessed relief the breathing exercises combined with the medicated steam were enough to lull DiNozzo into the first real sleep he had had since he left the Hospital, so that by the time dinner was ready his young agent was sufficiently well rested to sit up at the kitchen table and eat with him.
"Boss," Tony was startled when he realised that Gibbs' plate of chicken and rice with a side serving of finely chopped white cabbage was just as bland as his own. He decided not to comment on the fact that his meal had already been cut into bite sized pieces. "This isn't right. You shouldn't have to be eating this stuff."
"Something wrong with my cooking?"
"You know what I mean," Tony protested. "At least, you could have some sauce on yours or something. There's no reason for us both to suffer."
"Is that what you think?" Gibbs gave him an unreadable look.
"Well, sure," Tony continued, although, Gibbs was pleased to see he looked just a little less sure of himself. "I mean, just think of the choices you could have, there's pizza, with sausage and extra cheese, or Chinese, lemon chicken, beef in black bean sauce, anything with shrimp in it, or maybe Hamburgers, with bacon, lots of bacon or Philly cheese steak or corndogs."
"So, I just sit here and tuck in while you suffer in silence?" Gibbs raised a brow.
"Well, maybe not exactly in silence," Tony couldn't pretend it would be easy to watch Gibbs eating real food, that he literally couldn't stomach. "But yeah, you should eat what you want. Its not like you're the one who's sick."
Gibbs pushed down the surge of irritation he always felt when DiNozzo said anything so damned clueless. Reminding himself that it wasn't his fault that he had so little idea of how these things were supposed to work. Glancing across at the still pale and gaunt young man Gibbs couldn't help but wonder what the hell DiNozzo's father had been thinking leaving his only son so much to his own devices both during his childhood and more especially now.
"I'm still your partner," Gibbs tried to explain his actions in a way he thought Tony would understand. "And this is what I want to eat."
"Eating cabbage is your way of having my six?" Tony still looked a little confused.
"One of 'em," Gibbs allowed.
The team lead quickly finished up and put his plate in the sink, settling in to sip his coffee as Tony slowly worked his way through about a third of his meal before admitting defeat. As Gibbs dealt with the remainder of the dishes, he smiled to hear DiNozzo start lightly drumming his fingers on the kitchen table, taking the small surfeit of energy as a noteworthy step on the road to recovery.
"How can you live without a TV up here?" Tony broke the silence. "You know, some of those cop shows have some amazing cases, not to mention hot lady detectives who can really kick ass and really cool cars. I could get Probie to bring round some DVDs if you like?"
"Already have something else in mind."
It took a few moments to get Tony settled back in the recliner, and to bring together the few things Gibbs needed, his coffee, his reading glasses, a mug of the warm milk for DiNozzo and a dog eared paperback.
"You made me warm milk?" Tony looked at the mug as if he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Ducky said it would be good for you," Gibbs sat back on the couch. He had added cinnamon for flavour and honey to give it the sweetness DiNozzo preferred. "Try it."
"I've had it before," Tony scowled. "Just not since I was eight."
It was bad enough that his Boss had been forced to take care of his physical needs, but at a push he could kind of see the impact of Y-Pestis as a work related injury a bit like Dr Elrich's 'magic bullet' but in reverse. And Tony was grateful for that. It wasn't as if Gibbs hadn't been a good CO and kicked his ass until he was fit for field duty in the past. He had never made him warm milk before. Tony was pretty sure that senior field agents did not drink warm milk.
"You'll eat Captain Crunch but you think warm milk is for kids?" Gibbs teased.
Tony tipped his head curiously to one side at the easy going tone. That wasn't his Boss talking. That wasn't even his mentor, willing to teach, or his partner, wanting to have his six. This was Gibbs. Out of the office, at home, being .. a friend. The realisation came as something of a surprise. It wasn't as if Tony had done anything to earn the other man's respect lately, quite the opposite in fact, and yet here Gibbs was acting like he was actually pleased to have him hanging around.
"I was never allowed Captain Crunch when I was an actual kid, so I figure I'm just making up for lost time," Tony volunteered, always willing to push the boundaries a little further where Gibbs was concerned. "But my mother used to make me warm milk sometimes."
"You like it?"
"Yeah," Tony smiled a soft smile at the memories, he had always enjoyed the way the gesture made him feel loved and cared for as much as the drink itself. "It was always good."
"So?" Gibbs raised a brow at him. "Drink it before it gets cold."
Tony was already gulping obediently at the warm drink, before he even realised what he was doing. It seemed like senior field agents did drink warm milk when their Boss ordered them to. It shouldn't really surprise him. Following Gibbs' instructions was as automatic and familiar to him as breathing. Or rather like breathing used to be back in the day.
It made him feel safe.
Cared for.
Noticed.
"I never had this after my mother died," He reflected. "Sometimes, if they weren't too busy the staff would make me hot chocolate."
Damn, Gibbs felt a sharp shaft of sympathy as he worked out that meant DiNozzo had lost his mother when he was eight. That was much younger than he had imagined. He remembered how hard it had been when his own mother had died and he had had a good few years on DiNozzo and a father whom, despite their differences, Gibbs realised had always tried to do right by his boy. He thought of Kelly at that age with her bright smile and joy in life and tried to imagine DiNozzo growing up without a Mother.
"Must have been hard."
"Not as much as you'd think," Tony smiled a little too brightly for Gibbs' comfort for the glib response to be the whole truth. "One of the perks of being wealthy is that there's always someone else around to raise your child, I had nannies and boarding school, summer camp and before you know it, time for Junior to head off to College."
Gibbs carefully didn't smile. He had known from DiNozzo's jacket that his father was Anthony DiNozzo senior but he'd never though much about it. Gibbs wondered how someone as unique as his senior field agent felt about the name. The former marine had never really minded being named after LJ. He had been a good man. He was pretty sure things between him and his Dad were strained at best.
"Junior?"
"Can we just pretend that I didn't say that out loud?"
"Works for me."
Gibbs took a swallow of his coffee, trying to tell himself that the question he wanted to ask was none of his damned business. He had always tried to respect his people's personal privacy. He was damned sure he wanted them to do the same for him. DiNozzo had no such computation, it was one of the things that made him a good investigator, but at least he could tell the kid to poke his nose out if he wanted to. He knew that if he asked the question, DiNozzo's personal code of loyalty and obedience would force him to answer.
And knowing that, the investigator in him, asked anyway, one rule for you Gunny and another for everyone else he mocked himself. Sometimes he really did live up to that second B.
"Your Dad around much?"
"Not as much as you'd think," This time Tony struggled to hold onto even the facade of glibness. "He was always pretty busy with work and he travelled a lot. Then there was the succession of rich divorcees which took a lot of his time and attention. I had more than your average number of step-mothers growing up."
"You don't have any siblings." Gibbs knew that much.
"Dad's taste tended more to the high maintenance type, the sort of trophy wife that wouldn't want to mar her plastic perfection with stretch marks," Tony glanced down thoughtfully into his mug. "He was never very interested in having kids around if it wasn't for the whole carrying on the family name 'son and heir' thing I might start to wonder if I was actually a mistake."
Gibbs clenched his jaw tightly. He couldn't imagine having something as precious as a child and not making them feel as if they were the centre of your world. A familiar, sharp guilt reminded him that he had left his sobbing daughter to go and serve his country. But he pushed that thought firmly away. It wasn't the same. He had been doing his duty and Kelly had always known that her parents loved her. He wasn't at all sure that even with all his wealth and privilege DiNozzo had ever had that kind of security.
"He never spent any time with you?" Gibbs almost growled.
"Sure he did," Tony quickly backpedalled at the depth of ire in his Boss' tone, as if suddenly feeling he had revealed a little too much. "We had a couple of great vacations when he was between wives and then there were always the weekends at Civil War re-enactments."
"Where you carried the latrine bucket," Gibbs scoffed. "Bet that was a whole barrel of fun."
"It was a chance to spend time with him," Tony drained his mug. "My father isn't the easiest man to know. He's one of these people who talks a whole lot but never really says very much at all. You know the type, Boss?"
"Oh yeah," Gibbs felt no amusement at the irony of Tony's question. "I'm pretty familiar with that type."
"I'll bet your Dad was a really good guy, the kind who would always be taking you hunting and fishing and things." Tony sounded wistful.
"Never much cared for fishing," Gibbs answered without answering. "And he never let me lay a finger on his rifle."
"Is that why you became a Marine sniper?"
Gibbs smiled at his agent's hopeful question, as he rose and headed into the kitchen to re-fill his mug. Feeling Tony's eyes track his movements he knew better than to think DiNozzo would let this go. Where Gibbs was concerned the younger man's interest went beyond simple curiosity, he took every little nugget of information as a token of the trust and friendship between them. Most of the time Gibbs could ignore the puppy dog eyes, but every now and again, it seemed only fair to throw him a bone. People thought that DiNozzo followed him blindly. Gibbs knew better and the younger man wasn't the type to continue to trust if he didn't feel that he was trusted in return. Walking back to the couch he decided on a workable compromise.
"You get three questions, starting now."
"Really?" Tony positively lit up. "I can ask anything I like?"
"Yup," Gibbs gave a tight grin. "Two left."
"Boss, that's not fair," Tony groused, only to settle down when Gibbs gave him a look. "Alright, just give me a minute. I need a minute."
Gibbs hid his smile behind a gulp of his coffee, as Tony screwed up his face, apparently deep in thought.
"Okay, I've got two questions. Are you ready? Do not answer that, because that was a rhetorical question it was not a question, question."
"Give it your best shot." Gibbs grinned, deciding to cut the kid a little slack. He had been pretty sick after all.
"OK, question numero uno," Tony put on a voice that Gibbs figured must be supposed to sound like a game show host. "Where is Leroy Jethro Gibbs' hometown?"
"Stillwater, Pennsylvania."
"Should have guessed," Tony nodded to himself. "I'm thinking mining town, maybe a little Mom and Pop store, everyone goes to Church on Sundays and ends up marrying the girl next door. Also explains a lot about your taste in clothes. Not to mention your name."
"Just because you've been sick doesn't mean I won't head slap you," Gibbs warned equably.
"Duly noted, moving swiftly on," Tony took as deep a breath as he dared before he asked the question that he really, really, wanted to know the answer to and that his Boss had evaded once already. "So, what was your Dad like?"
"Actually," Gibbs looked across at the younger man and thought about DiNozzo's easy charm, his boyish goods looks and his way with the ladies. Then he considered his strong sense of justice, his enormous loyalty to his friends and his kindness to others. "He was a lot like you."
"Really?" Tony smiled shyly, his pale face flushing with pleasure at the comparison which made him feel almost like family. Then he bit his lip as he realised he had never heard Gibbs really talk about his father. "Um, that's a good thing, right?"
"Yeah, DiNozzo," Gibbs gave him a look of fond exasperation. "That's a good thing."
"Just checking, Boss," Tony put his empty mug aside and stretched out a little, closing his eyes in bliss. "You know what you always say never believe what you're told. Always double check."
Gibbs shook his head. Sometimes he and DiNozzo were just too much alike. The younger man might tease him about running his life like a military operation, but DiNozzo was no better, treating everything than happened in his life like it was part of a case and gathering Intel on his friends and co-workers like they were suspects.
"Alright," Gibbs settled back himself, before he picked up his book and perched his reading glasses on the tip of his nose. A smile hovering around his lips he decided he couldn't resist the cliché. "Are you sitting comfortably?"
"You're going to read to me?" Tony's eyes snapped open. "From a book?"
"That's the way it usually works," Gibbs looked at him over the top of his glasses. "I can't work on the boat and even if I had a TV your attention span is about twenty minutes max right now. I figured this would keep you out of trouble, unless, you're too tired?"
"No," Tony sat up a little straighter and tried to look attentive. "I'm good. So, what kind of book is it?"
"The usual kind, one with pages and words in it," Gibbs teased. "And before you ask, I don't do voices. Why don't you just listen?"
"Listen, okay I can do that," Tony agreed. "I'll just sit right here and not say a word."
Gibbs snorted his opinion of that possibility, but to his surprise as he began to read the crime thriller in a steady tone Tony did listen, his only comments or interruptions being questions, or suggestions about the plot, much as he would if the team were working a real case. And sick or not, Gibbs felt a quiet pride that his young agent's ideas were always right on the money.
"You up for another chapter?" he asked, after Tony had been quiet for a while. "Or do you to call it a night?"
Receiving no answer, he glanced across, letting his expression soften into an indulgent smile as he saw that Tony had his head tipped slightly to one side, and his mouth curved in a soft smile, as he slept soundly. Unwilling to move him, Gibbs took a moment to search out a blanket and cover the sleeping form. And just to be on the safe side, he went and got the oxygen canister, feeling someone humbled by DiNozzo's trust when the ever alert young man barely stirred so attuned was he to Gibbs presence and the familiar touch of deft, careful, hands.
Still, as he went and re-filled his coffee, Gibbs couldn't help reflecting, that as the nights got ever easier, the days would only become more difficult as he found himself with an increasingly bored and frustrated senior field agent on his hands. With that in mind he settled back on the couch, keeping half an ear on the younger man as he returned to his book determined to enjoy the calm before the storm.
AN – The idea that Gibbs might to Tony came from MrsChaucersSquire and I thought it was so good I couldn't resist using it, so many thanks for the inspiration