"Abby ... would you mind?"

The lab tech looked from Tony to Ducky and back again. "Um..."

"I'd like to talk to Ducky, alone," Tony clarified, tightening his grip on Rufus.

"Go on, Abby," soothed the ME. He hooked a hand on Tony's elbow. "Come into my office."

Tony's gait was uneven and he leaned unconsciously into the solid grip. Even while supporting him, Ducky observed with a physician's eye.

"Thought we had an agreement." DiNozzo didn't sound angry so much as ... defeated.

"I did not break your confidentiality, Anthony. I merely had a few words with Jethro about the ... disservice he is paying you."

Tony frowned as he settled in the chair, Rufus plopping warmly onto his feet. "What disservice?"

"There are things which can make life easier; equipment that you need to function. It is the Navy's duty to provide them. I merely pointed this out."

"You didn't tell him?"

"No." Ducky crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of his desk, still observing the man before him. "But you should. It is a small ... adjustment, not the end of the world."

"Yeah, well, it's a pretty big thing to me."

"Beer?"

Gibbs swung the bottle enticingly in front of Tony who reached out for it, his fingers missing the cold glass narrowly before he finally managed to fix on it.

"Yeah. Thanks," he said, taking a deep swallow.

"So ..." began Gibbs when the silence stretched out uncomfortably.

"So," repeated Tony.

"So, why don't I start?" Gibbs offered. "What would you like to know?"

"What would I like to know?"

"As you said, I'm not exactly ... gregarious." Gibbs took another swallow of beer. "So, go for it."

DiNozzo pondered the proposition for a moment. "Okay, how are you going to get the boat out of the basement?"

Gibbs choked. "That's your question?"

"It's been bothering me. I mean you have this huge..." Tony's hands spread wide, '...honkin' huge thing with ribs and you've got a door you can barely get yourself through."

Gibbs shrugged. "I'll take it out the 20-gauge steel sectional door."

"You don't have a 20-gauge steel sectional door."

"I get the boat done and I'll get one."

Tony laughed, closing his eyes and keeping them closed.

"My turn. You do that a lot. Does the light hurt your eyes?"

"Uh," Tony scrubbed a nervous hand through his hair. "It's just a bit disconcerting because I really can't focus on much of anything, so after a while I just ..."

"Shut it out?"

"That's one way to explain it."

"But that's not what Ducky thinks you need to tell me."

"Ah ... no."

Gibbs waited but Tony was clearly not in a forthcoming mood. "So you listened to me," he observed, finally breaking the growing silence himself. "You talked to Ducky."

"I always listen to you, Gibbs." Tony's hand groped for the abandoned bottle and Gibbs pushed it into reach. Tony took a long drag of the amber liquid before pointing out, "I can even repeat the twelve Marine rules, remember?"

"There were twelve of them?"

"So you said."

Gibbs laugh was deep and warming.

"You are a bastard, you know that?" observed DiNozzo.

"Never denied it."

Tony took a deep breath and, again, Gibbs ... waited.

"The doctor thinks it's time to think about a wheelchair." Tony's brief smile was patently faked. "Just for 'long' journeys, you know. Anything over, say, forty feet."

Gibbs took a moment to compose himself. It made a certain amount of sense: Tony could live with the dog, the brace, the weakened sight, but this particular suggestion would be what threw him. He knew Tony used his height. Occasionally even lording over him or Ducky. It was the primeval ethos of the playground. The game of who's bigger, who's stronger. If you couldn't measure dicks in public, you could at least compare how far you made it vertically.

"You can still walk."

DiNozzo ducked his head down and wouldn't look back up. "She thinks I'm headed for a big, ugly fall."

"Screw her," resolved Gibbs decisively, not liking the way DiNozzo had turned inward, his head still down, his shoulders slumped.

"What?"

"You heard me. Screw her. What does she know? Besides, if you fall I'll be there to pick you up."

The reply came out mixed with a sound that could have been a laugh, or a hastily strangled sob. "You will?"

"Sure," replied Gibbs as if it were self-evident.

At least Tony shifted stiffly against the sofa back, uncurling a little. "Exactly why am I here, Gibbs?"

"Told you the first time." Gibbs leaned over and tapped Tony's cheek. "I'm a sucker for pretty faces."

"Not sure how I make that category, boss."

"Stop calling me 'boss,' Tony. It makes what I'm about to do ... disconcerting."

Tony blinked. "What are you about to do?"

"This ..."

Gibbs framed the face before him in his hands and leaned in slowly, giving Tony time to compensate for the lack of clear visual cues. His thumbs brushed lightly over rough cheeks and the first contact his lips made was welcomed softly. The resistance he met as he pressed further forward was that of a strong, male body, a pleasure he'd not permitted himself in a long, long time. And this was sweeter, deeper than the brief encounters he usually allowed himself. This was Tony with all his odd mix of strength and vulnerability.

Tony made that sound again, the one Gibbs wasn't sure was a laugh or a cry, before he dove forward, his weight wedging Gibbs against the arm of the couch.

The horizontal dance bound them in a shared rhythm. Tony had his eyes closed again, his hands tangled in Gibbs' short hair. And, this close, Gibbs couldn't focus either, so he let himself drift on sound and touch: the soft, short pants that Tony made; the feel of warm, muscular hands moving down to lift his shirt and scrape along his ribs. The strong digits left his skin to fumble at his belt buckle and eventually a short curse was moaned against his mouth.

"Here, let me," whispered Gibbs, arching against him while he untangled the loop of leather. When he was done he moved to undo the buttons of Tony's shirt while the younger man braced on his arms to hold himself above him.

What was truly a laugh escaped as he brushed a palm down DiNozzo's flank. "Ticklish?" he inquired, repeating the motion, discovering the secrets of the body held trembling above him.

"I just can't believe this is happening." Tony groaned as Gibbs' hand dropped lower, cupping his hipbone.

"Believe it," whispered Gibbs, his other hand guiding Tony downward so he could capture his mouth again. "Believe."

(tbc)