Gibbs came home to find Tony in the basement, concentrating hard on the container of random items on the work bench. He was silent as he descended into the lower level, watching to see if Tony noticed anything outside of what he was looking at.

The rest of their work day had been spent proving the guilt of the suspect they'd captured. Tomorrow would be filled with paper work and logistics. But the bad guy was caught and being processed, and that's what really mattered.

"What're ya doing?" Gibbs asked, softly, as he sat down at the table.

Tony jumped slightly, startled by the sudden, unexpected voice in the room. He'd looked up at Gibbs and then slammed his eyes closed, gasping at the odd sensation that swept over his head as he pulled himself out of what he'd been doing. "Damnit, Boss! Don't sneak up on me when I'm using that particular ability."

"Didn't know what you were doing," Gibbs reminded him. "Maybe we should get a sign. Like the 'on air' ones they use for radio."

"Funny. But seriously. If you hadn't been sitting down, I would've accidentally been able to tell you what brand of underwear you're wearing."

"Not a bad skill, I guess," Gibbs raised amused brows. "If it doesn't work out at NCIS, you'd probably make a good addition to the traveling carnival."

"I was thinking Barnum and Bailey would probably love to have me," Tony smirked, cracking open a testing eye. His hand went to his forehead and he rubbed at the ache beneath it. "But for real. I just saw the muscles in your face in black and white. It was kinda creepy. I might have nightmares. Not that your insides are any more or less disturbing than the next guy..."

"So you were testing out the x-ray thing?"

"Yeah. Thought I'd try and get myself used to it. At least to where it doesn't hurt. My nose isn't bleeding this time. But I kinda went all out earlier. Used too much at once."

"You'll get it, just like you did with the other thing."

"I promise I'm not gonna use this one mischievously, Boss," Tony looked him in the eye. Gibbs raised a questioning brow. "McGee thinks I'm gonna use it to see women's under-clothes. Like I'm twelve," he let out a small laugh. Gibbs gave him a knowing look, and the smile cleared from Tony's face. "It was just one time! I just wanted to see if I could control the layers of what I was seeing."

"How'd that work out?"

"I saw things I honestly never wanna see again," he confessed, a bit of crazed traumatization flitted across his face. Gibbs smiled and shook his head. "Anyway, it was purely scientific. I swear. And I also promise not to experiment on the job again. Nothing more embarrassing than getting a bloody nose out of no where in the middle of the office."

"So you're gonna do it in your off time?" Gibbs asked. "Ya think it's a good idea to be doing this stuff alone? It's possible that something worse than a nosebleed could happen with you doing these things."

"Guess you're right. And that's definitely a good point. When I got home today, I had a thought that maybe these abilities pop up when I need them most. Like...in an emergency or in the spur of the moment, they just suddenly happen. So I went out to the deck and climbed up on the railing and started balance-walking across it. When I started to fall, I was hoping I'd have some kind of flying ability suddenly make itself known."

"And did it?"

"I fell flat on my ass," Tony replied. "Also? No air-bag-like ability to shield myself from painful falls, come to find out."

"Good thing you didn't conduct that test from the roof."

"Very good thing. Though I've gotta say, it would've been so cool if I could fly."

"No reason for a human being to need to fly, Tony."

"Of course there is! Do you know how much I could save on airline tickets?"

*~.~*

Ten days later...

"I think it's a pretty good plan," Tony debated with McGee as they bagged and tagged in the open field where Fairfax PD discovered the body of a dead Naval officer six hours prior.

"Cheating at cards in Vegas is not a great plan," Tim argued.

"Of course it is. It's not ethical, but it's a good plan. I could win enough money to buy myself a batcave. I could even get an Alfred," he grinned.

"Tony..."

"Alright fine. You can be my Alfred."

"I don't wanna be your butler."

"Not just my butler, Timmy. The one person I confide in about my true identity."

"But I'm not the only person who knows."

"That's...well..." Tony made a strange grunting sound and McGee looked up from where he'd been writing something on the evidence bag.

"Hey," Tim tried to get Tony to look at him. But Tony's eyes had fallen closed where he was crouched in front of his partner on the ground, and he seemed like he might be in pain. "Tony?"

"Mm," he groaned, dropping the bag to the ground as he moved his hands toward his head. "My head...starting to uh..."

"You don't look so good," Tim said, concerned as Tony's face began to lose its color.

"I think..." Tony opened his eyes, searching to find Tim's as he began to panic. He knew what was about to happen, and it terrified him. "Get Gibbs," he squeaked out, before clamping his eyes shut again and gritting his teeth.

Tim shot up from where he'd been kneeling, and sought out their boss. Gibbs was on the far side of the field, talking to Ziva. From what it looked like, he was giving her some sort of instructions. And as Tim started toward them, he watched Ziva start walking toward the parking lot where the van was.

"Boss!" Tim yelled out. "Boss!" he started to run toward him. Their phones hadn't been getting much reception in that field, and he knew he'd have to get his attention the old fashioned way. Finally, Gibbs looked over, and seeing the look on the younger man's face, and glancing to Tony, whose face was now buried in his hands and leaning to the ground, he knew something was wrong.

Once he saw Gibbs making a dash toward them, Tim turned back around to get to Tony again. The senior field agent's cries of agony tore at something in the younger agent as he skidded down beside him, grabbing hold of Tony's arm and laying a supportive hand on his back. "Tony...Gibbs is coming. It's gonna be okay. Tony?"

"What happened?" Gibbs asked as he knelt down on Tony's other side, slightly winded from the mad dash and adrenaline.

"It's his head," Tim replied. "The headache...What do we do?"

"Don't think we can do anything," Gibbs replied, regretfully. "Just gotta wait it out."

"Ngh!" one of Tony's hands left his head and smacked down into the grass beneath him, and his fingertips dug into the ground as his body quaked from the strength of the pain and the overwhelming images that ran through his head. Gibbs made the ultimate decision to pull Tony's upper body until he was cradling his head against his chest, and Tony's free arm instead gripped onto the sleeve of Gibbs' jacket.

"C'mon, Tony," Gibbs coached. "Bring yourself out of it, if you can." Tony simply released a breath and sucked one right back in, red reddening at the effort of holding it. Tim stood and paced, feeling helpless. "You can do this. Come on," Gibbs continued.

"Guh!" Tony breathed out, and his breaths came quickly, as though he'd heard his boss, as was desperate to obey. But his body still quaked at the intense pain. "Ziva!" he shouted. "Ziva..."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, then quickly glanced over across the field and into the parking lot toward the van. He'd sent her to fetch some more bags not too long ago. But all he saw, now, was the open trunk door, shaking slightly in the wind...

TBC...