"Well?"

Dr. Ward turned, only to find himself nose to nose with Gibbs and took a step back on pure instinct. "Hello, Jethro. I am so sorry about your father. I'd been trying to get him to go to the specialist for weeks, but he wouldn't let me call you."

"Appreciate that, Doc, but what's done is done. Right now my concern is Tim."

Luckily, his patient had already given permission to discuss anything about his care with Gibbs. Dr. Ward turned back to the x-ray he'd been studying and pointed out the area he'd been studying. "There's some inflammation showing up in Tim's lungs."

"How bad?"

"It depends on what his other tests show. I'll consult with Dr. Mallard when he has those results, but I suspect we'll start him on an anti-inflammatory, or possibly some corticosteroids. The bruising is causing him to take shallow breaths, which isn't helping." Dr. Ward had heard the story from Sheriff Gantry before he'd talked to Dr. Mallard and thought he understood Jethro's worry. "We don't have much of a pharmacy here in Stillwater, so we'll start him on some aspirin for now and Dr. Mallard will bring back what he needs when he returns from Berwick. His kidney function will determine exactly what we use."

"And you're sure that Tim doesn't need to go to the hospital?"

There was no point in worrying the man before they had all the results. "It's always better to start with a conservative treatment until we know more. If his kidney function is severely compromised, we'll have to try a different approach. For now, we'll start with the 81 mg aspirin every four hours. That will give him the maximum effect for the inflammation while being the easiest on his kidneys."

"Okay."

Jethro sounded more like a worried family member than a work supervisor, giving credence to the rumors that has started floating around town, so Dr. Ward rushed to reassure him. "He's not going to recover overnight, Jethro. Giving the circumstances, he's doing quite well."

It was apparent that he wasn't going to get any more information until Ducky was back later tonight. "All right. So, I can take him home?"

The bright wall light used to read x-rays was in the hallway and Ward just pointed to a numbered door. "Yes. Agent McGee is right in there. I'll send the scan to Dr. Mallard so he can review it while he's still in Berwick." The town doctor didn't pay any attention to the look on Gibbs' face as he used his phone to take a picture of the illuminated image and email it to the Berwick Hospital Radiology Department. Little towns, after all, have to be creative with technology.

-NCIS-

Several of the more common forms of antibiotics, plus the regular medications for the town folk were available in what had to be the world's smallest pharmacy – one shelf behind Dr. Ward's office desk. Aspirin was available at the local store. In other words, it was another reminder of how important the small store was to the town of Stillwater.

Gibbs was reading the fine print, deciding which of the three types there would be the best option when he heard the front door open. He didn't want McGee moving around more than he had to, so he circled around to greet the new shopper. It was a face he hadn't seen in years as the man headed for the counter where McGee was waiting.

"George?"

The white-haired man turned around and smiled. "Leroy, boy, how are you?" He took a few steps to meet Gibbs and shook his hand before pulling him into a hug. "I would have been here sooner but I was stuck waiting for the plows."

"Understood. Let me introduce you to Tim." Gibbs walked him back to the counter as he talked. "Tim, this is George Anderson, the lawyer for pretty much everyone within fifty miles of here. George, this is Tim McGee. He's someone very special to me and he was with Jack when he... he was with him at the end."

McGee smiled and offered his hand. "Mr. Anderson, it's nice to meet you, I just wish it were under better circumstances."

"Agreed, and call me George, please. We're pretty informal around these parts."

"All right, and it's Tim. I assume you're here to talk to Jethro about his father's estate." Tim turned back to Gibbs. "Do you want me to watch the store so the two of you can talk in private?"

Gibbs rubbed Tim's back and shook his head. He'd been watching closely and could tell that even though he was trying to hide it, Tim's cough was worse the more he moved around. Keeping him close sounded like a good idea. "No, besides I'd like your input on what to do with this – assuming that he didn't leave everything to a charity. Which might have been easier." Gibbs shrugged as he admitted to himself how little he was looking forward to dealing with his father's estate.

"No, Jethro. Jackson left everything to you. He always told me that when it came to it, you'd know what to do." Anderson set his briefcase on the large table in the center of the store and when the other two men joined him they all sat down.

Gibbs pursed his lips together as he read over the list Anderson handed him. Jackson owned the house and the store outright, the mortgages on the two building having been paid off years ago. In addition, there was a tidy savings account that surprised him. His father could have sold the store and retired years ago. Apparently he said that last part out loud because Anderson answered him.

"Jackson actually talked about selling at one point. A young man that worked for him years ago was interested, but nothing ever came of it. Probably because a man like Jackson needed something to keep him busy."

"Yeah, probably." Gibbs snorted as he remembered the months Jackson stayed with him after the Reynosa cartel shot up the store. He'd been bored and restless and drove his security detail up the wall until Jethro had found him something to do. "I can't stay here and run it, but I sure the hell don't want to sell the store to Winslow Mining."

"They want it?" That had been the first McGee had heard about that possibility. "Why?"

"Because this is the only place in town they don't have their fingers in. Dad refused every effort they made to get involved and it'd be a slap in his face to just sign it over now."

"I'll go through Jackson's correspondences and see if I can track down who was interested. You have a price in mind?"

"Enough to pay the inheritance taxes? Hell, I don't need the money, that's not what's important." Gibbs looked around at the store, he'd always remember his dad behind the counter, taking care of his neighbors. "What's important is that Jack's dreams for the place don't die with him."

Tim wrapped his fingers around Gibbs' hand. "I'll take care of it, Jethro."

The time of the funeral was set with George Anderson promising to taking care of the details before he left. Once they were alone, Gibbs stroked his hand down the side of Tim's face. "If I let you go back to the house, will you take it easy or do you need me to drag the recliner over here?"

It was close, but Tim didn't roll his eyes. "I'll be fine, Jethro." When he just got the look, Tim amended his statement. "I will rest on the sofa with Jackson's laptop and see if I can find any hints about who might be interested in buying the store."

Gibbs seemed pleased, but continued to look at him, so Tim tried again. "And I will drink plenty of water, measure my pee and take my aspirin right on schedule."

"Thank you." Gibbs brushed his lips across Tim's before he leaned his forehead against Tim's head. "I spent so many years denying what I feel about you, even to myself and like I told Ducky, life's too short to put off what's really important and you're so very important to me. I need you to be all right."

"I will be." Tim didn't want to dislodge Gibbs, even though they were in an awkward position at the moment, but he was able to kiss a spot of skin on the side of Gibbs' jaw. "I have too much to look forward to now. So, do what you need to do and I'll be right where I'm supposed to be, okay?"

Gibbs watched out the back door until Tim was safely back across the yard and in the house before he pulled out his phone. The first call, especially, was going to be hard. "Hey, LJ, it's Jethro. I... I need to tell you about my dad."

-NCIS-

Tony grinned at Ellie, he'd been a bundle of energy all morning. "You ready? Because it's showtime." She watched in amazement as the mask firmly slid into place and a hard-core Fed stepped out of the elevator and strode across the transfer area where prisoners waited to be returned to their cells. She blinked and scrambled to keep up. Tony didn't slow down until he was standing nose to nose with Carter.

As planned, Carter was leading Miller out of one of the interrogation rooms, while Franklin, the quiet agent that hadn't said much the day before, was watching over Lee, who was slouched over in a chair. A nonchalant look was on Lee's face, but they could see that he was taking in everything.

Tony held up his badge while, behind him, Bishop held up the paperwork. "I'm taking one of your prisoners."

"I don't think so." Carter played his role perfectly, arms crossed over his chest. "Since when does NCIS have jurisdiction over the FBI?"

"Since we're the ones with fingerprints and fibers and assorted evidence linking one of your suspects to our dead petty officer, it supersedes your case." Tony gave a hard smile. "The Navy doesn't look kindly on the death of one of their up and coming officers."

Lee's eyes flickered up for just a split second before the casual look returned, but both Tony and Carter caught it. Miller was already starting to stress. He didn't say anything, but his panicked glance over at the older criminal told them plenty.

Carter made a show of looking through the papers Bishop handed him. "Well, everything looks in order. You can take Lee and we'll hang onto Miller, at least for now."

"That's fine. If we can link him as an accessory, we'll be back for him. After all, we can send him to Gitmo. All you guys can do is put him in a cushy federal pen for ten to twenty."

Lee didn't say anything until they were in the car, pulling into to the Yard. "You can't pin a murder on me."

Technically, they couldn't. Especially since Petty Officer Moyers had fallen to his death sneaking into the large warehouse where the weapons had been stolen from, in an apparent attempt to retrieve his lost cell phone. They were counting on the fact that Miller wouldn't know that. Tony shrugged and looked up at Ellie, who was driving. "Yours were the only civilian fingerprints in the place. Somebody's got to take the fall. Either you or Miller are going down for it. Now, my money is on you taking the rap, but let's see who cuts a deal first. Either way, I've got an arrest in my column. Hey, you hungry, Bishop?"

If she was startled by the question, she didn't show it. "You buying?"

"Sure, closing a case always puts me in a good mood. We'll stick this guy in our lock-up and hit the diner. I bet by the time we get back, the Fee-Bee's will already have a signed statement from the lackey and we won't even have to bother dragging this one into interrogation."

"Now, wait a minute. I demand to make my statement as soon as we get there."

They were at the entrance where prisoners were delivered and Tony climbed out of the back seat, dragging Lee with him, who was suddenly in a hurry to get to where they were going. "Hey, it'll take a couple of hours for your lawyer to get here. You know, he's got to be officially informed of your transfer after you're logged in here."

Bishop beamed at their prisoner as she signed them in. "Of course, your partner won't have to wait since his lawyer was already at FBI Headquarters. Is today's lunch special the meat loaf or the fried chicken?"

Tony pretended to think about it as Lee showed his first signs of panic. "Actually, I think it's the hot roast beef sandwich with gravy today."

You could always count of Bishop to get excited about food, and she didn't even have to act. "Oh, you are so buying me extra mashed potatoes, then."

"Fine, then I'm getting the pie for dessert."

"Cherry?"

"No, we had the cherry pie yesterday. I'm thinking peach, or banana cream."

"Banana cream is my husband's favorite. Can we get an extra slice and drop it off at his office?"

"Hey, hey, hey! Forget your damn pie, lady. I want to make my statement now. To hell with waiting for my lawyer."

"You sure?" Tony was all business now. "Are you officially waving your right to have your lawyer present while you're being questioned?"

"Yeah, let's just hurry up, okay? Before that idiot hangs me out to dry to save his own hide."