Chapter 21

Gibbs looked up from his boat to find Tony slowly making his way down the stairs, a little surprised to see him. It was just past four in the afternoon, and Tony had gone to take a nap at three. His days since his release from the hospital on Sunday had consisted largely of sleeping, eating when Gibbs pushed him to, and watching movies. He hadn't said much of moment, and Gibbs had now seen several movies whose existence he hadn't previously been aware of.

For the time being, Gibbs was letting Tony acclimate a little, not pushing too hard. The combination of physical and emotional trauma made for a hard thing to recover from. Gibbs had a little personal experience with that, and he wasn't any too pleased with how he'd handled his own recovery, especially the second time. But he hadn't been willing to let anyone else help. Tony might not be saying much, but he was here.

The remainder of Saturday's interview with Fornell had gone quickly, largely because DiNozzo had rigidly repressed all emotional reaction. Gibbs hadn't been surprised. He knew that Tony wouldn't want to have a flashback in front of Fornell. After a less than restful night's sleep in the hospital, Tony had been released around one. At Jenny's insistence, they had gone straight to NCIS for another interview. Tony had been less forthcoming with Jenny. Again, Gibbs hadn't been surprised at either DiNozzo's reticence or Jenny's frustration with it. Like he had with Fornell's interview, he'd remained in the background, though he'd watched Jenny closer. Fornell didn't have an agenda with DiNozzo, and Jenny did. After that, Tony had submitted to a series of photographs taken by Ducky to document his injuries. On top of the attacks, it all served to wear DiNozzo to the bone.

Tony reached the basement floor and shuffled over to his usual spot by the wall. A cushion had been placed on the floor as a concession to the cold of the concrete and Tony's injured rear end. Gibbs had suggested moving a more comfortable chair down here, but Tony had refused the suggestion indignantly.

"I thought you were going get some sleep, DiNozzo," he said, looking over as Tony sagged down onto his cushion.

"I was," Tony said. "I did."

Gibbs glanced at the clock. He couldn't have slept as much as an hour. "Bad dream?"

"Freaky dream," Tony said, reaching down and picking up the DVD remote. Abby had come by on Sunday evening with a DVD player and all the wiring doodads that allowed her to hook his aged TV up to it. Tony asked Gibbs' permission with a look, and turned the player on, superceding Gibbs' news reports. While he navigated the DVD menus, he said, "I've told you that I keep dreaming of Brody killing McGee, and then dragging him off me and throwing him away." Gibbs nodded. "This time, when McGee's body was dragged off me, it wasn't Brody. It was Ari."

Gibbs blinked at him. "Ick," he said. The simple reaction concealed a whole host of internal upheavals. For one thing, Ari had died not five feet from where he was sanding. For another, Ari had come alarmingly close to killing McGee the day he'd killed Kate. They might have come down from that building to find that he and DiNozzo were on the team alone again.

Appearing to take Gibbs' one word response at face value, Tony snorted and leaned his head back against the wall. "So, I thought I'd come down and watch some more I Love Lucy if you don't mind. That and watching you work is kind of soothing."

Gibbs chuckled. "Sure, DiNozzo, whatever you want." Ignoring ancient TV shows was no strain, especially if it kept DiNozzo on an even keel. Every so often, he'd pop out with a nugget of information or an emotional aside. It wasn't happening fast, but it was happening.

Tony nodded. "Yeah." They sat in companionable silence for a while, and then Tony cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Boss."

"What for?"

"I should have told you when things got out of control."

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, you should have, but don't kick yourself too hard about it."

Tony sighed. "I still can't figure out why he wanted me so bad," he said.

Gibbs shrugged. "He was whacked," he replied, keeping his real opinion to himself. He thought Harris had found the combination of personal insecurity, professional competence and good looks irresistible. If Brody hadn't punched him for such a ludicrous reason, Tony might not have broken away yet. Tony really didn't need to know that, though.

"You really aren't going to work tomorrow?"

Gibbs snorted. Jenny had called earlier in the day to ask when he was planning on coming back in, and he'd told her to jump in a lake. Actually, he'd told her that his doctor hadn't okayed his return, and that he would accept days without pay if that was required, but that he wasn't returning until his doctor thought he was ready. Jenny had read between the lines, and though she hadn't been happy about it, she'd accepted it. He looked over at DiNozzo. "I'm really not," he confirmed.

DiNozzo was quiet for a moment, then he cleared his throat. "So, you going to spend all that time on your boat?"

"I had considered it," Gibbs said. They'd spent most of their time down here, and Tony hadn't shown any signs of wanting anything else. This could be a good sign. "Why?"

"I need clothes," Tony said. "I don't want any of what Brody chose for me back, and I don't really want to go to my apartment right now, even if I was sure it wasn't still cordoned off. I think I'm probably going to have to pay my service extra to cover the costs of cleaning up after a crime scene."

Gibbs grimaced. "I suppose that's true," he said.

"So, I thought maybe you might be willing to take me somewhere that I can find jeans."

Gibbs paused in his work and looked over at his subordinate. He was surprised that DiNozzo wanted to go out. He wouldn't have thought the younger man was ready. "Actually, Ziva will be by later with five or six pairs of jeans and some shirts. I told her to pick out a selection so you can try the stuff on, then she can take back whatever doesn't fit."

Tony looked up, eyes wide, and Gibbs couldn't read his expression. "Seriously?"

Gibbs sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I didn't think you'd want to go out right now. If I've overstepped my bounds, I –"

"No!" Tony said instantly, and Gibbs raised his eyebrows at the immensely relieved expression on his face. "I don't . . . I didn't . . . I just didn't want to put anyone to too much trouble," Tony said, and Gibbs realized that his desire for something other than borrowed sweats had been conflicting with his earnest desire not to go anywhere. He gave Gibbs a genuine smile. "That's . . . that's great, Boss."

Gibbs nodded, satisfied. He returned to his work, and when he looked over after another few minutes, he saw that DiNozzo had conked out against the wall. The show was still playing, but Tony was out. Gibbs shook his head but didn't say anything. He kept working and kept an eye on DiNozzo till eight. Ziva was due at eight thirty, so he walked over and gave DiNozzo a light tap on the head.

"Huh?" DiNozzo looked up. "Di' I fa' sleep?" he asked incoherently.

"Yup, but I'm thinking you'll want to get a little cleaned up before Ziva gets here."

Tony blinked at him. "When's she coming?"

"A half hour."

DiNozzo started to scramble up off the floor, but Gibbs reached down to help him up. Tony took his hand gratefully. "I'll be back down in a few."

Gibbs followed him up the stairs, ready to steady him if his balance wavered. He kept an eye out as DiNozzo went up the steps to the second floor, then ducked into the kitchen to get a few things ready. The front door opened and Gibbs walked out into the living room to find that Ziva had brought Abby and considerably more bags than he'd anticipated. "I asked for some clothes to tide him over, Ziva."

"Abby came along and we . . ." Ziva glanced at Abby with a sly grin. "We did, perhaps, go slightly overboard."

"No no no!" Abby exclaimed. "Tony needs clothes, and we have to give him some choice."

Gibbs looked at the four bulging bags that showed logos from three different stores and he shook his head. "Choice?" he repeated.

"I will go and get the others," Ziva said.

"Others?" Gibbs exclaimed, but Abby just winked at him and went outside. He followed after and picked up the two bags that were still in the back of Abby's hearse. "How much stuff did you buy?"

"Enough for now," Abby said, reaching in and grabbing another bag out of the back seat. He knit his brows incredulously as Ziva reached in and grabbed two more, both very square. "It's Tony, Gibbs. He likes clothes."

Gibbs caught Abby by the arm and let Ziva go ahead. "You know that anything that smacks of sexuality is going to be bad."

Abby shook her head. "I know what you mean, Gibbs, but this is entirely different."

"How so?" he asked.

"I'm like his sister, and Ziva's a girl. Neither of us is remotely likely to remind him of the jerk who . . ." She grimaced. "I can't even say it, but this won't bother him that way, Gibbs. I promise. I know Tony. Sometimes I think I know him even better than you do." His brows knit as he looked at her earnest face. "Trust me."

Gibbs sighed. "I trust you, Abbs." He took the bag from her and carried it into the house.

Tony went down the stairs slowly, bending almost double to see if there was anyone there. He saw Ziva depositing a couple of bags that were clearly full of shoeboxes on the floor in front of the sofa. He continued down the stairs and looked at all the bags. "This is just like Christmas!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. Unfortunately, his eagerness to express that thought distracted him from paying attention to where he was walking. He caught one of the more ragged gashes on his left foot across the edge of the rug on the hardwood floor.

He stifled a cry of pain and stumbled forward against the end of the couch. Ziva turned and slipped her arm around him. "What happened?" she asked.

"I stepped on something," Tony grunted. "I'm fine."

She ignored the statement, helping him to sit down on the sofa. "I am sure, but perhaps you should sit for a moment."

Since she was pushing him down, he didn't have much choice. "Okay," he said. "How much shopping did you do?"

"Abby helped," Ziva said, and Tony looked up to see Gibbs walking inside carrying three more bags. He looked somewhat perturbed, and Tony was more than a little startled by the sheer amount of clothing implied by the number of bags entering the room. Then Abby came in, and Tony's eyes widened.

"I'm surprised you're carrying bags, Boss," he said, nodding towards Abby.

Gibbs paused in the act of dumping the three bags he was carrying on the floor and looked over. He hurried back to Abby and took the trifold framework from her. "What is this, Abby?" he asked.

"A screen, for modesty," she said, looking around the room. "Over there," she added, pointing to a corner with a curtained window. "I'll grab a chair." She walked into the dining room and brought out a straight back chair. Looking slightly bemused, Gibbs let her direct him in the placement of the screen to create a changing room. Tony watched, feeling moderately befuddled.

He leaned over to Ziva. "Are you guys setting up a boutique?"

"Abby wishes to see you in the garments we have purchased, to be certain they fit."

"I'm a pretty good judge of that myself," Tony said, though he had to admit, he was finding Abby's exuberance hard to resist.

"Okay, Tony," Abby said. "Go behind the screen and disrobe." Tony rose and took up a couple of the bags. Abby snatched them back. "I'll give you what you need. Go on."

"Abby, I can dress myself."

"No one is disputing that," Abby replied. "However, this evening, I am going to dress you. Think of it as Goth Eye for the Club Guy." She gazed at him with such pleading and excitement that he couldn't resist. Gibbs was settling down in a chair, and Tony grimaced. At least McGee wasn't here.

He went around behind the curtain and removed the sweat pants he'd borrowed from Gibbs. Then he pulled off the t-shirt. "Abby?" he said after a moment. "It's getting a little cold back here."

"Here," she said, holding out a pair of jeans, a button front shirt and a pair of dark socks. "I know they'll be a little wrinkled, but we couldn't exactly take garment bags with us." Tony sat down and pulled on the jeans. Dark blue, well cut, they fit exactly the way he liked them to, and they were precisely the right length. The shirt was fairly standard, but designed to be dressy even without a tie. It was polished cotton, purple with a very slight gold pinstripe. He buttoned it up and tucked it in.

"Belt?" he asked. She handed one over the screen, and he looked at it. It was his, the one he'd been wearing when Brody made him take his pants off and get in the car. He pulled the knife out of the concealed sheath and looked at it briefly, then resheathed it and put the belt on. "What about shoes?"

"Come out, Tony. You don't need to be modest for the putting on of shoes."

He emerged and found, to his surprise, that another addition had been made to the furniture of Gibbs' living room. A full length mirror in an oval cherry frame with ornate scrollwork. "That is a gorgeous mirror," he said.

"I like it," Abby said. "Only you're not supposed to be looking at the mirror but at your reflection in the mirror."

Tony refocused his attention a little reluctantly. The clothes fit great, they looked good, but he still had bluish, greenish marks on his face and neck, and the backs of his hands still showed signs of bruising, too. "Looks good," he said, his tone a little forced.

Abby was walking around him. "It does," she replied. "Now, look here." Gibbs' coffee table had been transformed into a shoe store display. He glanced over at Gibbs, who was still looking somewhat bemused. "Are we having dinner soon?" he asked.

"Pizza's on its way, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

Tony raised his eyebrows. Over the past several days, Gibbs had provided him with a great deal of food, but he hadn't had pizza since the hospital. "Cool. Um . . . those all look pretty good, Abby," he said watching her fuss with the shoes. "Let me try them on."

"These," Abby said firmly, holding out a pair of black lace ups. They were very attractively styled. He slipped them on with a little difficulty and tied them, but standing up proved more unpleasant than he would have preferred.

"I think I'm going to have to wait on good shoes," he said. "Arches are very uncomfortable right now."

"I told you, Abby," Ziva said in an undertone.

"Well, they'll fit," Abby replied. "And if they don't, the store will take them back as willingly in a month as they would tomorrow. I also got you some very nice, very warm, very elegant slippers," she said, pulling out another box. Ziva had already started packing away the shoes, and Tony mourned the necessity. They looked great, all of them.

The slippers were soft and heavily cushioned on the inside, yet designed to resemble loafers, and unlike most slippers of that sort, they actually did resemble real loafers.

"Wait, did you say pizza, Gibbs?" Abby asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh! I sent for Thai," she said.

"Where from?" Tony asked. He wasn't aware of any good Thai places nearby, and if there was such a thing, he'd like to know about it.

"Thai Satay," Abby replied.

"But they don't deliver out this far," Tony protested.

Abby shrugged. "It's not delivery."

"Someone's picking it up?"

She nodded. "McGee and Ducky. Go. We've got lots to try on."

He rose and went back behind the screen to try on several more outfits like the first, then for a while all that came over the screen were shirts and jackets. The clothes varied in elegance. Some were clearly stay at home type stuff, and some were clubbing quality. Not that he'd be clubbing for a while, but if he did go out with friends, it would be nice to have something that would look decent.

He was wearing a pair of black jeans and had just pulled on a dark red shirt that was made of cotton with a bit of spandex in the weave to make it fit snugly when the door opened. Great. McGee. He wouldn't care about the clothes, but he'd find the whole situation weird, with everyone gathered for the DiNozzo fashion show.

He straightened the shirt up neatly and got it buttoned up the front. The collar was open to the top of the sternum, and it tucked in. He did up his belt and walked around the screen and froze. It wasn't McGee, or even Ducky. It was Jenny.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, and his eyes darted from her face to the mirror. The collar of the shirt revealed more of his neck than it concealed, and he could clearly see two of the bite marks Brody had left. He knew for a fact that several of the other shirts had bared the same skin, but he hadn't really noticed because Ziva and Abby were being so cool about it all, and Gibbs had seen everything already.

He turned around and went back behind the screen and took the shirt off hastily. Hesitating for a moment, he listened to the silence in the room behind him. This was Abby's fun, and he was damned if he was going to spoil it. "Got anything else for me, Abby?"

"Um . . . actually, just one more thing," she said. "I'm not sure –"

"Give it to me." After a moment, something long and dark came over the top of the screen. He reached out to take it and realized that it was a pair of black leather pants. "Abby?"

"I saved the fun stuff for last, Tony," she said, sounding apologetic, and a creamy white shirt followed, then a large box, the size that would generally hold boots. "It's meant to be worn with these, but if you can't manage it I'll understand. I just thought you'd look cool, and you could always use it as a Halloween costume."

He pulled off the black jeans and started shinnying into the leather pants. The creamy shirt turned out to be somewhat poetical in nature, with flowing sleeves and laces at the neck. Opening the box, he found a pair of extremely dramatic boots, the sort of thing guys wore on the fronts of romance novels. For five minutes, they couldn't hurt. He slid his foot carefully inside first one and then the other, then pulled them up to slouch around his knees. He took a deep breath and decided to pretend that there was nothing wrong with his neck or any other part of him. He squared his shoulders and walked slowly around the screen.

Abby let out a squeal of delight. Jenny and Gibbs were no longer in the room, but Ziva was looking at him approvingly. "It is an interesting look," she said with a smile. "Not for the office, perhaps."

"Oh, I don't know," Abby said. "Imagine the confessions he'd get from female suspects!"

He gave himself the once over in the mirror. Ignoring the injuries, he did look pretty hot. The door opened and McGee came in carrying two bags full of succulent odors. He stared at Tony with wide eyes.

". . . and there were six separate layers of – dear boy, is something wrong?" Ducky could be heard, though not seen, trapped as he was outside the house

"What?" McGee said, still staring at Tony as he shifted further inside. "No, nothing's wrong," he added, his eyes fixed on Tony. "Abby, you were right," he said. "I admit it. He . . ." McGee shook his head. "Whoa."

"I what, McGee?" Tony asked, mildly unnerved by the look in the probie's eyes.

"Nothing!" McGee exclaimed, and his expression changed as he stopped looking at Tony like he was some kind of static display and actually seemed to recognize Tony the person behind the costume. His jaw snapped shut and he looked suddenly very uncomfortable. "Abby just – she said – I don't – I'd better get these into the kitchen." He hurried away, leaving Tony wondering just what was wrong with him.

Ducky stepped forward and, holding the collar of the shirt out slightly, said, "Those are healing nicely, my boy."

Tony had been expecting some comment regarding the clothing, so this reference to his injuries pulled him out of the self-created delusion that he was entirely well. He disengaged himself and said, "If you really want to look me over, Duck, I'm going to go change into something a little less . . ." He trailed off, looking for a word that wouldn't insult Abby.

"Florid?" Ducky suggested. "That sounds like an excellent notion to me. Have you seen a doctor since Sunday?"

"No. I'm supposed to see someone by Friday. Today seems good enough to me."

"We'll see. By the way, you do look very dashing."

Tony grinned. "Now I have this urge to whip off a cape and spread it over a puddle."

"I knew I forgot something!" Abby exclaimed.

Tony's eyes widened. He ducked behind the screen and pulled the boots off, then grabbed a pair of jeans and a turtleneck. "Come on, Ducky."