oNCISo

Tony's visit to the hospital was thankfully short and to the point. His arm was properly stitched up, with a shot of antibiotics as a chaser. He had a mild concussion which had contributed to his visions of Tom Selleck, and to top it all off, two bruised ribs and deep tissue contusions on his flank.

Overall, he was better off than he'd been after most of his previous encounters with bad guys.

Before he left, and against Gibbs' wishes, Tony stopped in Trista's room to see how she was doing. It wasn't an encouraging sight. Her leg was broken in two places and her body was covered with mottled bruising. The real problem, though, was the skull fracture. Her road to recovery would be long and difficult

Tony couldn't help but think about what a waste it was. "She should have told us what was going on."

"When you love someone, you tend to be a bit irrational."

The tone in Gibbs' voice made Tony curious, and he cast a long look at his boss. Gibbs just shrugged, an ancient pain lingering behind his clear blue eyes. "I'll tell you about it sometime."

Tony nodded, accepting that this was the only answer he would get for the time being. He looked down again at Trista, but instead of the severe red-head, he saw a petite brunette instead, grinning up at him cheekily.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this."

"Kate?"

Tony blinked, and then shook his head, which turned out to be a really stupid thing to do, but it accomplished its purpose – the vision of Kate fragmented, and once again Tony was looking down at Trista. He decided to blame the concussion for his momentary lapse in sanity.

Unfortunately, Gibbs had heard Tony's soft exclamation and was looking at his senior field agent with a worried glint. Afraid that his unexpected reprieve from a hospital stay would be revoked, Tony searched for a plausible explanation for why he had just uttered the name of his dead partner.

"Uh…Kate was a friend of Trista's from her Secret Service days. I just remembered."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but didn't question the odd change of topic. "I think I remember her being at the funeral."

"Yeah, they weren't real close, but they always got along pretty well. Trista told me they got put on a lot of perimeter details together because they were women. She said it made Kate really mad." Tony smiled, picturing Kate's response to the obvious sexist attitudes of her superiors.

Whatever Gibbs might have replied to that was cut off by the sound of Black's voice out in the hall. Tony and Gibbs exchanged a glance before going out to meet him.

He seemed to be happy to see them, though obviously restrained by the reality that one of his team was severely injured. At Tony's questioning look, he explained his presence. "Agent Booth sent the mission complete message on to Miss White, who passed it along to me. As soon as our site was secure, I returned on the jet. I was hoping you could fill me in on what transpired between Miss Red and the late Mr. Lincoln."

Tony was prepared to launch into an explanation, but something about the look on Gibbs' face stopped him. "You know what, I'll send you my report. How did the others do?"

Black looked less than pleased with this answer, but seemed to decide that he wasn't going to get anything else out of Tony. "Our team in Las Vegas met with minimal resistance. Mr. Blue and Miss Grey are coordinating with the CIA and Homeland Security to get things cleaned up. Mr. Brown and his team also met with success. They were called back to their base shortly thereafter, but the team sent in after them described their work as 'frighteningly efficient'."

"So we just handed everything over to Langley?"

"Our agency is not particularly equipped for clean-up of nuclear materials. This particular leak in the CIA has been effectively stoppered, so I felt that bringing them in was justified. As long as you approve, of course."

Tony could tell Black was trying to throw him off balance and put him back in place, and he didn't think it was very sporting to do that to an injured man. Furthermore, he was getting tired of the manipulation. "Whatever. I'm assuming someone will be looking for Rashid and al-Hazdin?"

"It's been sent through channels."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Translation: They got lost in the shuffle and we have no idea where they are or what they might be planning next. Wonderful."

Black was getting frustrated. "We do what we can, Anthony. I suggest you take into consideration the very dangerous ground you're standing on."

It was at this point that Gibbs decided to intervene, mostly because he didn't want his senior field agent injuring himself further by doing something stupid. He stepped between the men fluidly. "I think," he reasoned calmly, "that we are all tired and a bit on edge. So this conversation should probably be finished some other time."

Black backed down first, his polite mask back in place as he addressed Gibbs. "Quite right. I hope, Agent Gibbs, that we can count on your future participation in the Agency."

"It's Special Agent, actually. And I can guarantee you, I will always be there to back up Tony." He emphasized the younger man's name and saw Tony perk up at the veiled threat directed toward Black.

Black recognized it for what it was. If, or when, Tony felt that his membership in the Agency was no longer beneficial, Gibbs would be there to ensure the man could get out. "Of course." He turned back to Tony. "I look forward to reading your report."

Tony nodded and then turned to follow Gibbs down the hall. He was almost to the elevator when he heard Black call out to him. He nodded in assurance at Gibbs' look, and turned back.

"You really did do a good job, Tony."

"You couldn't have orchestrated it better if you tried."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You could have just asked him yourself."

Black just raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, okay, so he would've told you where to stick it." Tony fixed him with a glare. "Just remember something – Gibbs doesn't like being played, and neither do I. Remember that the next time you have Whitey call me."

"So you're staying with the Agency?"

Tony sighed, suddenly extremely tired. "I still believe in what you created us to be. I don't want that to change."

Black smiled. "You really are an amazing young man."

"I learned from the best." And with that, Tony went back to Gibbs, smiling as the older man cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.

xXxXx

Tony winced as he pulled on his shirt the next morning. Gibbs was allowing him on desk duty until the worst of the bruises began to fade. He'd spent the previous evening trying to figure out what he was going to tell everyone about what he'd been up to. True, he'd promised to tell Abby everything, and he would hold to it, but like his apartment, certain things just weren't meant to be shared with everyone.

Still, he had to come up with a story for Ziva and McGee. (Gibbs had agreed to handle the Director. Tony couldn't tell him that Jenny already knew about MJ and his involvement because of his brief stint as team leader – all of this, of course, reminding him that he was still paying for covering up his involvement with Jeanne and a certain undercover operation to ferret out a French arms dealer. But seriously, one problem at a time.)

Tony followed Gibbs out the door of his apartment. They had stopped by Tony's place to gather some clothes and personal items, at which time Tony decided to take short nap and Gibbs had decided it was too much bother to take Tony to Gibbs' house.

Gibbs wouldn't let Tony drive, but did show some deference to Tony's concussion and only went ten miles over the speed limit instead of the usual twenty. They arrived before the others which gave Tony the great joy of seeing the look on Ziva's face when she stepped off the elevator.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"It's called work, Ziva."

Ziva's response was cut off by the arrival of McGee, whose expression upon seeing Tony was so hilarious that Tony was glad he had set up the camera to take a picture of it. As he transferred it to his computer to send it to Abby and the secretary pool, Ziva and McGee began to bombard him with questions.

"Where have you been?"

"Does this mean Gibbs is back, too?"

"Have you always kept a Glock under your mattress?"

"Do you have the complete set of every seventies sitcom?"

"Are you ever going to get back to work?" This last question came from Gibbs as he descended the stairs from the Director's office, where he had gone to explain Tony's sudden reappearance. His question was met with a flurry of movement as Ziva and McGee hurried to their desks. Tony just smiled sweetly at them as Gibbs gave a short nod to Tony and then promptly left to go for coffee.

As soon as the elevator door closed, Ziva and McGee were back, looking expectantly at Tony for answers. He sighed, and mustered his best smile (DiNozzo #58 – You will believe everything I tell you because I'm just that good).

"Okay, here's the deal. I've been in Philadelphia working on a cold case. Obviously, Gibbs is back as well. I used to keep the Berretta in the mattress, but I like the feel of the Glock better. And no, McGee, I do not have the complete set of every seventies sitcom. I do, however, have the complete set of all the good ones."

The ordeal of the past few days was totally worth it to see the look on their faces. McGee was obviously totally confused, while Ziva looked simultaneously annoyed that she had found the Glock and not the Beretta, and impressed that he had such an arsenal at his disposal.

"But what happened? Gibbs tore out of here like a squirrel out of hell."

"And why did Gibbs send us to your apartment?"

"It's bat, Ziva, and to answer your question, I ran into some trouble with the case and was out of contact for a bit. I can't go into details, but Gibbs was called in to help. To answer your question McGee, if you go near my apartment again without me, Thom E. Gemcity's next book will be delayed due to the author's unfortunate accident in which he broke all the bones in his hands. Are we clear?" He took McGee's stare as an affirmation of assent and smiled DiNozzo #7 – he called it the Hulk. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see Abby."

Leaving his bewildered teammates behind, he took the elevator down to Abby's lab where was greeted by the raucous sound of Brain Matter. Abby was at her computer, facing away from him, so he took the opportunity to turn off the head-splitting noise.

Abby whirled around, and when she saw who it was, wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug. Tony's bruises were unfortunately quite fresh, and he groaned, which prompted Abby to release him with a look of concern on her face. "What did you do to yourself?"

Tony rattled off his various injuries and then settled back to listen to Abby's rant about how it would be even worse for his health if he ever pulled something like this again and that if he wanted to live, he would keep Abby in the loop. Tony nodded in the appropriate places, and when Abby finished, he told her what he'd really been up to the last few days – which, of course, prompted a second round of admonitions.

When Abby was satisfied with Tony's promises that he wasn't going to get himself into any more trouble for awhile, she let him go with a pat on the head and a reminder that his news would have gone over better had he brought her a Caf-Pow! and that she was only letting him off the hook this time because he had hurt his head.

Tony considered his escape one of the better moves he had made in life, but before returning to the bullpen, he had one more stop to make. He had been bothered by something from the beginning of this whole mess, and he figured there was only one way to solve the matter.

Ducky was in his office when Tony popped in to see him. "Hey, Duck! Got a minute?"

"Anthony, dear boy! I was wondering when you were going to come see me. I trust things went well with the case?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Well, I am glad you're back, lad. What can I do for you?"

Tony sat on the corner of the desk. "Ducky, what can you tell me about snow dragons?"

"Snow dragons? Quite a bit, actually. There's a legend going back thousands of years concerning a group of fierce warriors who lived in the mountainous regions of what is now Iran. These warriors would appear when they were most needed, riding great dragons from the north. It's actually a rather obscure legend. Wherever did you hear of it?"

"Heard it from a friend. Thanks Duck." Tony gave him a smile and left.

xXxXx

He got back to the bullpen just as Gibbs was asking McGee about the case they'd been working on before this whole thing had started.

"Well…we still don't have any leads."

Tony had often believed that Gibbs had the ability to kill with a single look, and he felt it appropriate to step in before his theory was proven correct.

"Actually, I made some calls this morning. Turns out the Admiral's son made another appointment – a hooker from one of his many 900 numbers. He's holed up in a motel in Annapolis with Jerri right now – quite a nice girl, actually, said she'd keep him occupied until we got there."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "And the roommate?"

"I think we need to have another chat with his girlfriend. I looked over the interview transcripts again, and she mentioned certain rigorous interpersonal activities. Maybe they got out of hand – Ducky did say he thought it was an accident."

Ah, the sweet smell of victory. McGee was obviously kicking himself for not figuring it out before, Ziva was angrily trying to figure out how someone who had missed most of the investigation could pull an answer out of nowhere, and Gibbs – Gibbs was laughing.

Laughter which quickly turned into another glare at Ziva and McGee who left to pick up the girlfriend and the Admiral's son.

Tony sat back in his chair at his desk. A contented smile on his face. Oh yes. Life was good.

oNCISo