There were forty-two steps from Room 526 of the orthopedic ward to the main elevator. Seventeen steps, after a hard left turn, from the elevator to the front doors; unless it was after official visiting hours, when Gibbs had to reach the locked sliding glass and sidestep three times to find the handle of the smaller side door. He had a semi-regular cabbie, named Louie, who'd come, if he was fareless when Gibbs called, because he liked to grill him about all things Marine; Louie's son being on the delayed entry program until he graduated in the spring.

Usually it was a walk he made alone, Abby and Kate having returned to DC as soon as Tony was released to the regular room. Ducky following soon after, needed on a case. And for two weeks he'd learned to adapt by himself, memorizing the layout of buildings he hoped never to haunt again.

So now he shrugged off Ducky's offered elbow, snapping the cane as they exited the elevator with a slightly brusque "I can do it, Duck."

"You're sure about this?"

"That I can make it to the door?" Gibbs replied innocently.

"No." Ducky sounded stern. "And you know damn well what I'm asking about. You're sure you're ready to go back?"

"Not exactly anything in DC to go back to," answered Gibbs, arcing the cane expertly, aware of the ME pacing his steps. "But I think I might be ready to go forward." He smiled slightly when the sliding doors hissed open at precisely the moment he'd expected. As he crossed the entranceway, he started counting off the ME's possible objections: "I've got no place to stay. You've got a job to get back to. Tony's on crutches and is going to be in outpatient rehab for at least a month. That what you're worried about? Granted, I won't know my way around," Gibbs stopped exactly at the edge of the curb. "But that's no different than this and I've made it this far."

"It is not your abilities I doubt, Jethro."

"What do you doubt then, Duck?"

"The wisdom of leaving you and Anthony to look after each other," fretted the ME.

"Hey, together we've got eyes and feet."

"You've been spending too much time with Anthony." Ducky took Gibbs' hand and latched it firmly against his arm before stepping off the curb. "You're starting to develop a sense of humor."


Gibbs frowned, his sense of direction had always been good but maybe, without sight, he'd gotten himself mentally turned around. He tilted his head feeling the heat of the afternoon sun on his right cheek; the haze of the vision in his left eye brightening pinker when he turned toward the car window. Which made the direction they were traveling in definitely... southward.

In the back seat, Tony snored softly, oblivious to Ducky's occasional erudite comments on human behavior as evidenced by DC driving patterns.

"Duck?"

"Hmm?" murmured the ME, glancing back at their sleeping passenger.

"Tony lives north of the city."

"Yes, he does."

"We passed over the Potomac and we're still headed south," pointed out Gibbs.

"You can tell that?" asked Ducky, scientific curiosity ominously shading his voice.

Gibbs shifted in the seat again, turning back toward Ducky. "I can tell we crossed a big bridge and that west is on my side of the car."

"That's very interesting. I wonder if they've done studies on the navigational ability of the natally blind?"

"Where are we going, Duck?" pressed Gibbs.

"As a test of your abilities, why don't you tell me?"

"Ducky," Gibbs warned, low.

"I'm taking you home," admitted the physician.

"You live further north than Tony does."

There was a brief murmur from the back seat but then the soft snoring resumed.

"I'm not taking you to my home, Jethro," Ducky corrected, lowering his voice in deference to their sleeping patient. "I'm taking you to yours."

"Ducky, you sold the house. I have a fat money market fund to prove it."

"The new owner is quite amenable to you staying there."

"Why?" inquired Gibbs.

"Because at my age," admitted Ducky, "I find all those stairs ... tiring."

This was met by a beat of silence as Gibbs tried to understand. "You bought my house?"

"I took custody of the property ... temporarily." Ducky patted his clearly stunned passenger on the knee. "And I did not use the boat for kindling."

"Duck—"

"Oh, you're welcome to buy it back."

"Duck—" repeated Gibbs before he closed his mouth, unable to come up with a decent reply.

"I suggest you have Anthony confine himself to the ground floor," offered Ducky helpfully. "At least for the next two weeks."

"I don't know what to say," Gibbs finally admitted. "I ..."

"You don't think I was really going to let someone chop up two years worth of precision hand sanding, did you?" Ducky turned momentarily to enjoy the look of stunned disbelief on Gibbs' face. He took the younger man's hand and squeezed it briefly. "You made a hasty decision that I knew you'd regret."

"I seem to be saying this a lot lately, and it seems inadequate, but ... thank you."

"Thanks are never inadequate," observed Ducky, smiling. "And let's just say I had faith you'd be back."

"Hey, Duck?" A sleepy voice drifted from the back seat. "Do you know you're in Alexandria?" Tony sat up with a groan, his immobilized leg protesting the movement. "Somebody want to tell me what we're doing in Alexandria?"

"Going home," replied Gibbs.


"Hey," Gibbs let Tony sweep him safely around his propped-up and braced leg. "How's the pain?"

"There," replied Tony shortly.

His first day between the parallel bars in rehab had taken its toll, the congenial man Gibbs had left the house with that morning had returned in a much fouler mood. Gibbs settled with extra care on the sofa, all too aware how his lack of sight affected everything from his clumsy navigation to his balance.

"Can I?" he asked, finding Tony's shoulder with his left hand, identifying the tight trapezius muscles and doing his best to give a one-handed massage.

"Feels good," murmured Tony, tiredly.

Gibbs' hand kneaded deep into the tense flesh, feeling the stretch of the muscles as Tony lowered his head. Pushing back Tony's shirt, his hand lingered over the smooth warmth, and moving carefully so as not to rock the cushions, Gibbs sidled closer. The heat from Tony's body radiated like a visible aura. He palmed the skin, testing the intermittent sensation from his hand, the warmth seeping even into the patches of numbness. Leaving the broad muscles of Tony's back, he put his lips to the fabric-covered shoulder

Tony tensed, but only slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Touching you," replied Gibbs with a small smile, echoing the conversation, now weeks gone by, that had taken place on a far less comfortable couch.

He could feel Tony's gaze on him.

"I don't need a pity-fuck, Gibbs," said Tony softly.

Gibbs grinned. "You think I give them?"

"Too egocentric for that?" offered Tony. He shifted gingerly. "Don't hit me, Gibbs." He gently put his hand to Gibbs' jaw. "So help me, if you punch me ..."

"I'm not going to hit you, Tony," said Gibbs, leaning into the caress, letting the touch draw him closer. He could feel the soft puffs of Tony's breath against his lips and he opened his own slightly, the first kiss hesitant and tender.

"You didn't hit me," breathed Tony.

"Not going to," reiterated Gibbs, bending forward again, his touch more forceful this time. They broke with a shared gasp, lips slightly reddened.

"You're ... sure about this?" questioned Tony one more time.

"I'm the one that should be asking you that," Gibbs responded, his fingers tracing the curve of Tony's cheek.

"I was sure that night at your apartment. Hell, I've been sure pretty much since I first saw you trying to run off with my witness in the Baltimore City Hall."

"Almost made it," Gibbs said, capturing Tony's mouth a third time.

"As I remember," said Tony when he got a chance to breathe again, "the witness stayed in Baltimore and I'm the one that ended up in DC."

"I always have a plan, DiNozzo," Gibbs advised, unbuttoning Tony's shirt one-handed.

"I don't know how much I can ..." Tony groaned as he tried to shift on the couch, "... move."

"Then don't," instructed Gibbs, moving on to unbutton Tony's jeans.

"I want to ..."

"Later," Gibbs promised, letting Tony's hands help strip the shirt over his head. He shivered a little as Tony's fingers skimmed his ribs.

Tony laughed as he tried to find a comfortable position that still allowed him to maneuver. "I hate to think we're going to have to call Ducky to get logistical help."

"Shut up, Tony," grinned Gibbs.

"Shutting u---"

The rest was garbled under the press of Gibbs' lips.


Epilogue

"Come on." Tony tugged at his hesitant partner. "I'm the one that should be nervous, last time I left here I was on report."

But Gibbs' pull remained strong and steady against his. "Last time I left here, I could see."

"Shit." Tony grimaced at the wooden pitch of Gibbs' voice. "I'm sorry. We can go if you want. Kate's waited for me for six weeks, she can wait another day."

"No," Gibbs relented and came a few steps closer to the wall of elevators. "I need to ... conquer this."

"Well, given the way you 'conquered' me last night ..." began Tony.

"DiNozzo."

Tony smiled sweetly at the now-exasperated tone. "Yes, Gibbs?"

Giving up in the face of a determined Tony, Gibbs waved a hand in the direction of the elevator doors. "Lead the way."

oOo

"Where is he?"

Kate shrugged. "With Morrow, upstairs."

Tony paced in front of Kate's desk. "I just went to get the rest of the disability paperwork and he ..."

A bemused Kate was grinning at him.

"Wait, did you say he's with the director?" double-checked Tony.

"In Morrow's office," verified Kate, a hand moving to casually point over her shoulder at the upper floor.

The confirmation only made him worry his bottom lip between his teeth. "What's Morrow want with him?"

"Maybe to talk, Tony? They were friends."

"Oh ... well." Tony shuffled the paperwork from hand to hand. "Great. I'll just go ... fill these out."

Taking pity on him, Kate leaned reassuringly across the desk. "He's okay, Tony. He's in good hands."


"Hey."

"Hey," responded a surprised Tony. The director's secretary was retreating back up the stairs and Tony could only assume Gibbs had been personally, though quietly, delivered to his custody. "You seen everyone you came to see?"

"Well, I don't think the girl from property was real pleased to hear my voice," admitted Gibbs dryly.

"Why? What did she say?"

"Something about 'evil reincarnated'."

"You heard her?"

Gibbs grinned at the protective tone in the younger man's voice. "It's the eyes that are shot, Tony. The ears are fine."

"So you've done everything you came to do?"

Gibbs shifted, tucking the cane under his right arm, his left hand settling on Tony's desk. "Even scared McGee."

"Hey, if you've scared McGee then your tasks are truly complete," agreed Tony, shutting off his computer.

"Talked to Morrow," added Gibbs. He took Tony's elbow once the younger man positioned himself beside him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Gibbs ducked his head momentarily, the unsure gesture causing Tony to frown. "He, uh, offered me a consultant's position. Part-time."

"You going to take it?"

Gibbs smiled. "I'd need a ride into work."

"Convenient that we live together then," observed Tony, releasing the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Gibbs squeezed his arm. "You could say that."

end