**CHAPTER TEN**
Two weeks later
Jethro descended the stairs to his basement, surveying the nearly finished boat that rested there. The hull was completed, sanded as smooth as he could make it, ready and waiting for its first coat of stain.
He'd selected a cherry finish for it, darker than Shannon's hair had been, and both anticipated and dreaded seeing it on the hull. He removed the can from its place and pried the lid open to reveal the dark, pungent liquid inside.
Before he'd finished stirring it, his phone beeped with an incoming text. Only one person would send him a text, and Jethro found himself reaching for his phone before he consciously decided to.
The message was simple, but loaded with meaning. Picked up a tail, Boss - not one of us.
Even as he smiled at the "Boss," technically true again now that they'd been forced back into a four-person team, Jethro typed a response.
Where are you?
The Cellar.
Jethro knew the bar. It wasn't, strictly speaking, a Fed hangout, or even an LEO hangout, but a good proportion of its patrons were officers of some sort, and Tony sometimes went there to pick up gossip or just to maintain good relations with others in the law enforcement community.
Be there in twenty.
He put the phone down and barely heard the beep of Tony's answering text as he hammered the lid back on the can of stain.
Twenty minutes later, he climbed out of his car and scouted the area around The Cellar. This part of town was generally well lit thanks to streetlights and a handful of bars, restaurants, and clubs that stayed open late.
Still, it didn't take long for Jethro to find a shadowed alley and take up a position there. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Tony.
I'm here.
Tony's response came quickly: ? Don't sense you.
Outside. Finish your drink, come out, and turn west.
On it, Boss.
Gibbs closed his phone, slipped it into his pocket, and confirmed that both gun and sword were where they should be.
Tony emerged a few minutes later, and turned west as Jethro had instructed. Jethro felt a swell of pride when Tony didn't so much as look around as he got close enough for them both to feel the buzz, let alone when he passed the alley Jethro had chosen. Tony always had been good undercover.
Tony passed out of sight, and Jethro waited until the man following Tony was almost past the alley himself before lunging forward to grab the man by his shoulders, swing him into the alley and up against a wall.
The man cried out in surprise, and maybe a little pain, staring at Jethro.
"Why are you following a federal agent?" Jethro demanded.
"I'm not," the man said, his voice high with nerves. In the dim light of the alley, Jethro could only make out the basics - Caucasian, hair a shade or two lighter than Tony's, blue eyes. And young - college age, maybe.
"Sure seemed like it to me." Tony's voice came from the mouth of the alley, off to Jethro's left. "Answer the man's question - unless you want to be arrested."
"No!" the man said, his gaze flicking between Tony and Jethro. "Let me go, okay? And I'll tell you."
Jethro growled. "Tell me and I'll think about letting you go."
The man stared at him, wide-eyed, a long moment before turning his head toward Tony. "Okay, I was following you, but not because you're a federal agent."
From the corner of his eye, Jethro saw Tony's eyebrows fly up. "I'm flattered, but you're really not my type."
Even in the dim light, Jethro could see the young man flush. "No, that's not it, either. It's -"
"It's …?" Tony prompted.
"It's … something else." The young man looked between them again, his expression uncertain, and Jethro understood.
"It's this." He stepped back and opened his coat just enough to show the sword hanging by his side.
If it were possible, the young man's eyes widened even further. "You're immortal, too? Who are you?"
"We're asking the questions," Jethro reminded him as he settled his coat back into place.
"I'd answer, if I were you," Tony said. "Unanswered questions make him cranky."
The young man blew out a breath. "Okay, okay. I'm a Watcher."
"Well, yeah," Tony snorted. "You've been watching me for three days."
Jethro glared at him. "You let him get away with it that long?"
Tony shrugged. "I let him get away with it until I got bored."
"We've been watching you longer than that," the younger man said. "Can we go somewhere? It's cold."
Jethro studied him, then glanced at Tony, whose expression remained neutral.
The younger man sighed. "Look, my name's Kyle Whitworth, I'm a student at George Washington University, and I'm freezing. I'll buy, if you want - just let's please go somewhere warm."
Tony cocked his head to one side, flicking an inquiring glance at Jethro. Jethro grimaced, but gestured for Whitworth to follow Tony while he brought up the rear.
Minutes later, they were settled in a restaurant, cups of coffee on the way.
"You watch immortals," Jethro said. "Why?"
"Because mankind should know the truth. And they will - when there's only one of you left."
"That's not creepy at all," Tony murmured.
Whitworth shrugged. "As long as your kind have been around, we've been around, watching and recording. Every immortal has a Watcher."
Jethro couldn't help smirking. "Every one?"
"Every one we know about," Whitworth said. He looked up to meet Tony's gaze. "We found out about you when Nobunaga challenged you. His Watcher reported in, and I was assigned to you then."
"Losing your skills, DiNozzo?" Jethro asked.
Tony shot him a brief glare before turning back to Whitworth. "So what changed three days ago, that you got close enough for me to spot you?"
"I'm not supposed to tell you -"
"You weren't supposed to get caught, either," Jethro reminded him.
After a moment, Whitworth sighed. "There's another immortal in town. I'm watching you in case you're challenged. There's another Watcher watching the other immortal, too."
Tony grinned briefly. "Nice. Didn't give anything away by pronouns, didn't imply a challenge is coming. What's your major?"
"Public health." Whitworth turned to Gibbs. "Still haven't said who you are."
Jethro considered not answering, but if Whitworth were watching Tony, he'd find out soon enough. No sense making an enemy of a neutral party.
"Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Immortal since 1991."
Whitworth's jaw dropped. Jethro had never seen that reaction in person before, and he was surprised it actually happened. "1991? And none of us knew?"
Jethro just shrugged and sipped his coffee.
"Gonna have to report this, get a Watcher assigned to ..." Whitworth trailed off in the face of Jethro's glare.
"You do what you have to do," he told Whitworth. "But it's probably safest for your Watcher to introduce themselves to me, rather than let me catch them the way DiNozzo caught you."
Whitworth swallowed. "Uh - why?"
Tony grinned. "Gibbs is a Marine. Marines don't take kindly to being stalked."
"Putting it mildly, Tony."
"Don't want to scare him," Tony shot back before looking at Whitworth again. "Might warn your replacement to introduce themselves to me, too."
"Replacement?" Whitworth frowned. "I don't know what you mean."
"You're a student," Tony explained. "You'll graduate eventually, and if you have to move for a job, you'll have a replacement."
"Oh, right." Whitworth visibly relaxed, and Jethro wondered idly if he'd thought Tony, or maybe Jethro himself, would kill him.
"So," Whitworth said. "What now?"
"I'm gonna finish my coffee," Jethro said. "Tony?"
"Same." Tony grinned suddenly. "And then head home because I have to work in the morning and my boss is a stickler for punctuality - by which he means fifteen minutes before the day officially begins."
Whitworth looked between the two of them for a long moment before saying, "I'll say goodnight."
Then he was gone, and Jethro blew out a long, slow breath.
"What?" Tony asked.
"It was simpler, before," Jethro admitted. "When it was just me, even if I didn't know what was going on or why. And then you - it was still easy. Then there was de Lara, and MacLeod, and now Watchers."
"Not so simple anymore."
"Furthest thing from."
Tony chuckled briefly. "You gonna handle it?"
"Don't have a choice."
"You do - let someone take your head."
Jethro looked at him over the rim of his coffee cup. "Someone - as in you?"
"As in whoever you chose," Tony replied evenly. "Things wouldn't be complicated then."
Jethro could only stare at him, the coffee cup frozen on its way back down to the table. How could Tony even suggest such a thing?
Oh.
Because he'd done it before.
Jethro set his cup down and leaned forward, crossing his forearms on the table as he met and held Tony's gaze. "I'm not in that place, Tony. I don't think I'll ever get to that place again."
"You don't think you will." Tony sounded skeptical.
Jethro glanced away, needing the momentary respite to find the right words. When he did, he met Tony's gaze again. "Never is a long time. I can't think of any circumstances that would bring me there again, but that doesn't mean there aren't any."
Tony appeared to consider those words, then nodded, once. "Fair enough. But if you get to that place, even get close to that place, will you call me?"
"You want my head that badly?" Jethro asked mildly, and got a glare in return.
"Thought you were smarter than that, Gibbs. What I mean is, you were alone back then. You don't have to be alone if it happens again."
Jethro swallowed past a lump in his throat, managed, "Thanks, Tony."
"I've got your six, Boss." Tony shook his head. "Partner, whatever the paperwork says. Jethro."
"Got yours, too, Tony." Jethro raised his coffee cup, and Tony touched his cup to his. Jethro drained the last of his coffee and reached for his wallet.
Tony held up a hand to stop him. "I got it. You're only here because of me."
"Technically, because of Whitworth," Jethro said. "But thanks."
"You can thank me by putting in a good word with my boss if I happen to be a bit late coming in tomorrow."
Jethro suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Any particular reason you'll be late?"
"Rule thirty-five. Gonna watch the Watcher, make sure he checks out."
Jethro didn't bother trying to suppress his smile. "Good thought."