As they exited the elevator, despite the warmth of the palm pressed firmly against Tony's back, Gibbs managed to do the about-face maneuver that could still throw Tony at times. Passing Tony's old desk, he snapped firmly into work-mode, barely slowing to give its current occupant time to react.

"McGee, get with DiNozzo and see if he can get you something on Pendleton."

Even feet away, Tony could feel McGee's cringe and he winced in sympathy, not having forgotten what it was like having the wrath of Gibbs' come down on your head.

"Come on, McGee," urged Gibbs, none too subtly.

The hand withdrew its warmth and Tony stumbled a bit, the grip returning to gently re-orient him. The two versions of Gibbs somehow coexisting in the same body.

"I mean now!" he barked. "Quit daydreaming about Abby and get your butt over here."

Tony was propelled forward as Gibbs made for his desk, McGee trailing behind them.

"There was something you couldn't find?" Tony whispered when their newest agent paced him.

"Guess he's a little pissed at me," ventured McGee, sounding, Tony realized, terribly young.

"Don't worry." Halting at his own desk, Tony put a hand on McGee's arm. "His bark is much, much worse than his bite. I should know."

Fortunately for McGee, Tony's vision was too blurry to make out the sudden convulsive movement of his Adam's apple.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Lunch," returned Tony innocently, tightening the grip he had on McGee's bicep as he tried to steady himself in preparation for grasping the hold of the harness.

"You got something on Pendleton?" inquired Gibbs.

"Not yet."

"Then food is not on your dance card."

"The sat link went down between here and Montreal. It'll be up in an hour or so," explained Tony. "Unless you want them to send it by Morse, it'll be a while."

Gibbs huffed out a sigh and returned to his own desk. "All right," he conceded. "Go get lunch."

"I'll bring you a calzone," offered Tony.

"Manicotti," ordered Kate from a distance.

"And manicotti," Tony agreed. He squinted at McGee. "Think Abs wants something?"

"I've got it covered."

"Ha!" Tony cackled triumphantly. "You know what she wants from Luigi's. It is love."

"You know what Gibbs wants," retorted McGee under his breath.

"Oh, yeah ..." agreed Tony with a smile. "Definitely know what makes the man purr."

"Food, McGee," Tony expounded when the thought of a purring Gibbs got only a strangled cough from their youngest agent. "I was talking about food."

"McGee, you are just way too serious."

As he nosed the sedan out into the noontime traffic, McGee grimaced. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Gibbs is ... serious."

"On Gibbs, it works," replied Tony. "But you, my man, don't want to grow up and be Gibbs."

"Don't you have," McGee hesitated, "career goals?" He watched Tony shift against a particularly strong spasm. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Quit apologizing, McGee. Not your fault you've got all that get-up-and-go. Annoying as it is. Growing up to be Gibbs isn't a bad ambition. Just don't ... well, don't let him push you around so much. You've got to push back. Give him something to knock his hard head against."

"Didn't he – at any point —scare you?"

"Scare me?" repeated Tony. "Uh, well, when we met he tried to steal my murder investigation, complete with dismembered torso, right from under my nose. I caught him at it, by the way. Want to strangle him? At that moment, oh yeah. Fear him? No."

McGee gripped the steering wheel with a vengeance. "He scares the shit out of me."

"Why, McGee, you used profanity." Tony smirked. "You do want to be Gibbs."

"How could you—"began McGee.

"How could I ... what?"

"Nothing," McGee muttered.

"How could I 'what?'" Tony repeated.

"That night at the Purple Onion. I heard you and Gibbs talking."

"Ah ... shit." Tony closed his eyes.

"Forget I said it," hastened McGee.

"Who all knows?"

"Just me and Abby. Really." McGee's gaze darted between the street in front of them and Tony's deflated posture. "Really," he averred.

"And Kate," added Tony.

"Kate knows?"

"Yeah." Tony pressed the heel of his palms against his tired eyes before fixing McGee with a wary look. "So what did you want to ask? How could I 'what?'"

"No," McGee backtracked, "I don't want to know anything. I promise."

"Sure you do." Tony turned toward him in the seat. "We're all ... curious."

"I'm perfectly straight."

"I got that McGee. You are the most perfectly straight person I've ever seen. That you're having sex at all, never mind apparently making Abby happy, is something of a ... surprise to us all."

McGee frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Just that you're the most uptight person I think I've ever known."

"Okay," replied McGee, irritation making him bold. "What I want to know is how did you ever think of coming on to—"he shuttered slightly, "—to Gibbs of all people?"

"I didn't. Not that I didn't think about it, but I ... didn't."

"He came on to--" McGee slammed on the brakes to avoid colliding with the row of cars stopped at the red light he hadn't seen. Tony jerked against the recoiled seat belt. "He came on to you?"

"Yeah, McGee," Tony rubbed pointedly at this bruised sternum. "You may find it hard to believe, but Gibbs came on to me. And I don't think we should be talking about this." He squinted at the too bright street in front of them. "Aren't we close to Luigi's?"

"Sorry. Yeah. You're right," conceded McGee, slowly going forward once the light changed. "It's just that I can't see it."

"You can't see that Gibbs is attractive?" Tony considered this for a second. "Or you can't see that I am?"

"As a sexual partner," opined McGee, "I'd take Todd any day."

"Well, don't let you hear Abs say that."

"Oh, she thinks it's sexy."

Tony wrinkled his nose. "That you'd take Todd?"

"No, you and Gibbs ..."

"Really?" said Tony, his face lighting. "Cool."

With an overly sharp right-hand turn, the sedan bounced into Luigi's parking lot.

"Forget I said it," growled McGee.

"Appointment?"

Tony frowned, handing over the last box from Luigi's. "You're going to have to do better than that, boss, if you want me to have any idea what you want."

Gibbs took out the half-moon, sniffed at it warily, then bit down into the pastry-covered filling. "Have you made the appointment with Dr. Lenz?" His voice was muffled under mozzarella and sausage. "This is good."

"Meat lovers," replied Tony. "I knew you'd like it."

Gibbs frowned, his gaze darting toward an oblivious Kate. "Was that a double-entendre, Tony?"

"No." Tony's face scrunched up. "Christ, Gibbs, we're at work."

"Appointment?" reiterated Gibbs.

"Not yet."

"I want to come with you."

Tony shifted uncomfortably. "You don't have to ... keep an eye on me. I said I'd do it."

"It's not because I think you won't go." Gibbs lowered his voice and Tony looked instinctively in Todd's direction, but all he could make out was the usual Kate-shaped blur. "I just ... want to be there."

Sighing, Tony nodded. "Okay."

"So," returned Gibbs, taking another bite, "that sat link back up?"

"They know."

The car sped along the beltway, maintaining a constant eighty miles an hour. A speed only reachable, even to Gibbs, when the day had stretched into night and the concrete eight-laner was nearly empty.

Although their previous topic of conversation had been the relative competence of the Montreal police department, Gibbs took the conversational switch in stride. "I know, Tony."

Tony's fingers were worrying the webbing of the seatbelt. "You could lose your job, Gibbs. I can't be responsible—"

"You're not," Gibbs reached over and captured one of the restless hands.

"I could quit," Tony offered. "It's not like I'm doing much good."

"You connected Pendleton to that Canadian homicide."

"McGee could have done that."

"No," demurred Gibbs. "He couldn't. He's an excellent technician. You're a creative thinker. He would have never come up with looking for odd wood chipper rental returns."

"Maybe I'm just channeling murderers who return their wood chippers steam-cleaned." Tony's smile was short-lived. "I'm serious, Gibbs. It's not worth the risk. If I quit—"

Gibbs gave the hand in his a tight squeeze. "No."

"That's it?" protested Tony. "Just 'no.'"

"Yes."

"It isn't easy loving you, Gibbs. You know that, don't you?"

Gibbs stretched against the seat. "Oh yeah."

(tbc)