Kate grinned at the tousled-headed man clad only in boxers who met her at Gibbs' door. Tony's leg was braced but he was barefoot, his balance kept by a hand planted against the wall. A harness-free Rufus tagged along behind him.

"I need help."

Tony carefully turned, switching hands against the hallway table to keep his balance, swaying unsteadily in the process. Kate lunged when she saw him wavering and put a quick arm around the decidedly too-slim waist, uncomfortably aware it had only been a few months ago she'd been able to tease him about his weight.

"Hey, you okay?"

Tony shrugged the question off; apparently this unsteadiness was standard operating practice. She'd seen Gibbs' automatic, stabilizing reach in action and never really thought about how he always seemed to appear just as Tony swayed. Although, more than likely, it was that Tony carefully avoided moving around too much without Gibbs being in reaching distance.

"I need help with my clothes."

Tony felt the body under his arm tense.

"Not getting them on, Kate." He sounded exasperated. "Picking them out."

"Oh."

"Disappointed?" inquired Tony as they took the sharp turn into the bedroom. He smiled at the responding huff.

All thought of a retort quickly disappeared, though, under Kate's realization that she was standing in Gibbs and Tony's bedroom. The obvious joint ownership something of a shock even though intellectually she'd had to have known Tony wasn't bedding down in the spare room. Curious, she noticed that Gibbs slept on the left side of the bed, because it was currently neatly stacked with enough pillows to make a vaguely Gibbs-like shape. Tony obviously not comfortable sleeping alone. And on the left nightstand was a copy of The Complete Roman Army which sealed the ID. Definitely Gibbs.

Tony sank with obvious relief onto the end of the bed. "I have some trouble with colors."

Taking this as permission, Kate peered into the double closet. Gibbs' side neatly hung with golf shirts and blazers. Tony's was more eclectically filled.

"I want to look ..." Tony's voice trailed off and Kate turned to find his hands were nervously working the already rumpled sheets, "... competent," he finally decided.

"Then I think the shirt with the hula girls is definitely out," deadpanned Kate, trying to lighten the suddenly gloomy atmosphere.

Tony smiled weakly.

"Oh, come on," prodded Kate. "I don't think competency is something you need to worry about."

"Really?" Tony's forehead furrowed. "Then what's with all the cracks at work?"

"You get as good as you give, DiNozzo," Kate reminded.

"Yeah, I suppose I do," acknowledged Tony before he suddenly straightened. "Kate, if I've ever said anything that made you feel..."

"You have," confirmed Kate.

"Then I'm sorry."

Kate took out a gray suit and laid it on the bed. "No, you're not," she retorted.

Tony smiled just a little. "Maybe not."

She returned to the closet and retrieved a lighter gray shirt. "Where are your ties?"

"Closet door." Tony squinted at her choices. "I was thinking navy looked more--"

"Competent?" Kate shot back. "Definitely gray. Unobtrusive. Stable." She held up two ties against the shirt. "Favorite color of banks and accounting firms, so you'll think they're not fondling your funds."

She chose a conservative, almost monochromatic stripe with the merest hint of purple.

"You can ..." she began, unsure that, as unsteady as he seemed, he really would be able to manage getting dressed.

"I can," repeated Tony, more confidently, shooing her out with a flick of his wrist.

Unwilling to wander too far, Kate went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee from the waiting pot, running a finger over the burnished steel top of coffeemaker. She settled at the table and blew gently over the top of the dark, steaming liquid to cool it then put her profiling skills to work on the small kitchen.

The house was solid and stable. Sparsely decorated, but comfortable in a decidedly masculine sense: heavy, high-quality wood furniture, well-waxed plank floors, high-end kitchen appliances.

How Gibbs spent his paycheck.

On things that were solid.

Things that would last.

There were Tony's visible contributions, too. The PC sitting on the desk in the sliver of the den she could make out through the far kitchen doorway. The just-seen corner of the plasma TV that Tony had told her about getting after amusedly describing the sole elderly set Gibbs kept in the basement.

On the table there was a notepad with Gibbs' capitalized printing: an unfinished grocery list of eggs, cereal, and peanut butter. And then there was Tony's name underlined twice followed by a whole host of alphabet soup that was undoubtedly herbal or pharmaceutical remedies: CaAEP, DHEA, GLA. Then, at the bottom, one she recognized – Arnica oil. She knew it by another name -- from distant summer days spent with her grandmother -- yellow flowered leopard's bane, used to sooth aches. The kind you got from forcing weakened limbs to move, from enduring relentless muscle spasms.

She imagined Gibbs' precise mind applying itself to Tony's illness. He'd probably drawn Abby and Ducky into the hunt as well, had them researching ways to trap the biological criminal causing pain to someone he was meant to protect.

"So?"

Kate jumped guiltily as Tony appeared at the near kitchen door. A distinctly different looking man than had greeted her.

"Oh, wow. Very ... competent," judged Kate before getting up to minutely straighten Tony's tie.

"You want me to go up?"

Kate watched Tony fiddle nervously with the harness, a patient Rufus enduring the fidgeting.

"Maybe you better get me there," he conceded. "I can probably manage if I get to the right door."

The elevator doors split open and Kate ushered Tony in, leaning across him to push the button to the third floor. Then she led him across the bridge over the atrium to the door of the offices of Andrews, Frere and Walker.

The outer office, he'd decided, laying a hand in thanks on Kate's shoulder for getting him this far, he needed to handle on his own.

He nodded distractedly at her promise to wait, then clumsily managed the door handle, grateful for the obvious placement of the receptionist's desk, but all too aware of the discomforted pause as the receptionist took in his lumbering gait.

"Anthony DiNozzo," he announced, summoning up his best smile. "For Ms. Walker."

"Well," greeted Kate, entrapping Tony's elbow in an anxious supporting grasp, moving them all toward the elevator.

"Paperwork," muttered Tony. "Lots of paperwork."

"And?"

"And I've got a good chance of getting custody as long as Gretchen is willing."

"And if she's not?"

The elevator door slid shut.

"I suffer from a progressive, disabling disease. I live in my boss's house, where I sleep in my boss's bedroom. My male boss's bedroom. Can't imagine there'd be any problems there."

"It'll be okay, Tony," Kate offered. The reassurance immediately sounding pathetically impotent against Tony's deep sigh.

"She liked my suit," Tony offered, rallying for her sake. "Said I should wear it if we have to go to court."

"You have to go to court?"

"Let's hope not," muttered Tony, letting Kate take the lead as they stepped from the elevator.

Kate opened her mouth only to realize she was about to repeat the same worthless cliché, when God alone knew if it would be okay or not. She was saved from another feeble attempt at tempering Tony's obviously valid concerns by the ringing of Tony's cell and the relaxation she could feel under her guiding palm when he identified the person on the other end of the line with a soft "hey, Gibbs."

(tbc)

Apologies for the delay, guys. Durn RL. Thanks to C for the help! And thanks for all the feedback, as always.