FRIDAY

It was 11 a.m. on Friday when the first knock came on the door. Tony felt great. He'd been up since 9:30 a.m.; he'd had breakfast, read the paper, showered and dressed, and had been the one to call Gibbs and report out on his morning, instead of waiting for Gibbs to call him. Tony had enjoyed that – getting one up on Gibbs. Gibbs had been surprised, but also sounded distracted, so Tony kept it short and sweet and hoped everyone would have a good day. He coughed once or twice for good measure, just so Gibbs would remember that Tony wasn't so much slacking as he was still recovering from the plague, but the coughs were really more for show than anything else. These nights of uninterrupted sleep and the healthy food and the meds were all working together to make Tony feel pretty darn good. He wasn't ready to run a 10K or spend 18 hours in the field, but he was getting there.

And now, it was 11 a.m. on Friday morning, and Tony bounded to the door to find out who would be entertaining him today.

"Do you have a personal relationship with God?" he heard, as he opened the door. Tony smiled and thought of Terri coming back from the auto detailer the day before. Traffic had been terrible, the detailer had been backed up, and she'd been stuck for an hour, waiting for his car with a bunch of lecherous older men having their Cadillacs prepped for the weekend. She'd walked in with a smile and a fairly pleasant hello, but she'd given him that "look."

'Anthony', Tony thought to himself, 'this is your cosmic scorecard, balancing itself.' And so he invited the two young men from the local Jehovah's Witness Hall in for coffee and apple-bran muffins. They were nice enough, but after two hours of discussion about the forces at work that had made Tony sick and then the counter-forces that had made him well again and what higher cause he had been kept alive for, Tony was almost glad to see the Girl Scout troop come strolling up his sidewalk with a wagon full of cookies.

The whole day passed like that. Jehovah's Witnesses, Girl Scouts, canvassing volunteers for local political candidates, home-school kids selling candy for a field trip to some presidential library or another, people passing out flyers to have a new stop light put on the corner by the bus stop. Tony wondered where all these people had been Wednesday, when he'd needed something – anything – to distract him from his Xbox obsession or yesterday, when he'd needed to be rescued from Bobbi and the Nursettes. And then he wondered why the adults weren't at work and why the kids weren't in school. By 4 p.m., Tony had had more people come to his door in one day than he got trick-or-treaters on Halloween.

Finally, the last of the neighborhood visitors had gone, and the apartment was quiet again. Tony had just flopped back on the couch, with a bowl of ice cream and a banana, when the phone rang. It was too early for Gibbs or Ducky to be making their evening check-up call, and the ID screen on the phone said "international call". He flipped open the phone and tentatively said hello.

"You caught the plague," he heard. It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and it was said with a little bit of emphasis on the word 'you' and in the same dry, disbelieving way that his father had said, "you got an A in economics" when Tony was in college.

"Paula," Tony said with an amused lilt to his voice. "What a delightful surprise." He almost meant it.

The connection had some static, but he could clearly hear samba music playing in the background.

"You're calling me from the dance club, aren't you?" Tony said with a smile. "You just can't get me out of your mind … I know."

She snorted a laugh. "I'd heard a rumor, Tony," she said, dismissing his comments. "I just had to call and find out if it was true or not." There was a pause as she took a drink of whatever she was drinking – probably a Cosmo, Tony thought. "So you really caught the plague?"

"I didn't so much catch it as it was forced upon me," Tony said. "A slightly loopy pharmaceutical exec sent an envelope of plague to NCIS so that we'd reopen a rape investigation that involved her daughter."

There was a pause – a slight delay with the connection. "Did you catch the rapist?" Paula asked, always the agent first and the caring friend second.

"Turns out the girl wasn't raped; she made it up," Tony summarized. "So …"

"You caught the plague for nothing," Paula filled in. "Nice work." She laughed, although Tony couldn't tell if she was laughing at him or at someone in the dance club.

"Yeah, Paula," Tony said, a little too sharply. "I nearly died for no reason at all."

There was a pause, and then the background music faded farther into the background and Paula's voice came out much clearer. She'd obviously moved outside or, at least, away from the middle of the dance floor.

"I'm sorry, Tony," she said, sounding slightly inebriated but sincere. "I only just found out from a guy who came in from Norfolk this afternoon. Seriously. I'd have called earlier if I'd known." She paused. He said nothing. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tony said, flatly. "I'm fine. Getting better every day." Then, because he wanted things to be normal again, "I won't be able to dance circles around you like last time – at least, not for a while – but I've been assured that I'll make a full recovery." He emphasized the word "full." He smiled when he said it, and you could tell.

Paula teased him back. "You dance circles around me?" she said. "I don't think so. You must still have a fever."

"Only when I'm near you," he flirted. This was fun, but a little tiring. It was hard for him to maintain the tempo when they weren't face to face. She also had a slight advantage here. She had alcohol.

"Well, then, you'll have to stay away," she kidded, "for your own well-being, of course." She'd had just enough drinks to think that they were both enjoying the conversation.

"Of course," he bantered. "You know," he continued, "you should probably get back inside – I'm sure there are at least a half-dozen petty officers on your dance card, not to mention the new guy who just came in from Norfolk this afternoon. Don't want to keep them waiting."

She laughed. "I'd say 'wish you were here', but …" she began.

"We'd both know you didn't mean it," he completed the thought. He was still smiling, and he hoped that hadn't come out with too much bitterness. If it did, she didn't acknowledge it. Maybe she was letting him off the hook. Maybe it was just her walking back into the club and switching focus. There was a beat of silence, and her voice came back, a more serious tone than before.

"So … you're all right," she said. It wasn't a question, but a statement. She needed him to confirm her intel.

"Yes," Tony said. "I'm all right." There was another pause. She started to say "Good," but he jumped in first. "Thanks for calling, Paula," he said, with 60 sincerity and 40 please-get-off-the-phone. "I appreciate it."

"Like I said," she began, "if I'd have heard about it earlier …"

"If you'd heard about it earlier," Tony said, "I'd have been unconscious when you called."

She laughed. "Just my luck."

He chuckled and smiled. "Have a nice night, Paula. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." And then he hung up the phone. He hadn't meant to hang up on her, really, but he didn't want to play the game right now. He was tired. How he could go from "relaxed on the couch" to "totally exhausted" so quickly was beyond him. Maybe he wasn't getting better as quickly as he thought he was.

It was nearly dinner time, but he really wasn't hungry. Maybe he'd be motivated to eat something when Gibbs or Ducky called and ordered him to eat something. Right now, he just needed a nap. Tony brought a pillow and a blanket into the living room and got comfortable on the couch. Kate had given him the soft fluffy snowman-covered blanket last year for Christmas as a gag gift. It was totally out-of-place in his masculine apartment, but its softness and warmth had turned it into one of his favorite things. He'd never really gone through the "baby blanket" phase as a kid – preferring towels and pillowcases that could be made into super-hero capes – which perhaps explained his attachment to the snowman throw. He told Kate that he'd re-gifted the blanket to a cousin with a newborn, but he'd actually kept it, hidden on the top shelf in his linen closet. He brought it out when he was sick and it almost always helped him feel better.

As he stretched out on the couch, he picked up the remote and clicked on HBO. "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl" was just starting. Tony had seen the film a dozen times, and had a DVD of it in his collection. It was a nice, familiar film for him to doze off to. He didn't have to worry about finding out how it ended.

It seemed like only seconds had passed when Tony opened his eyes. He felt rested, but strange … as if he should be on guard. Suddenly, he realized that he was no longer on his couch. He was sleeping on the floor. Had he fallen? Rolled over in his sleep and landed on the floor? He shook his head and looked around. He was lying on a wood floor. His apartment had a wood floor. OK … so far, so good. Then he looked up, and saw a black 'Jolly Roger' flag flying above him. His stomach lurched as he nearly rolled the width of the ship. Wait. THE SHIP?

Tony jumped to his feet and looked around. He was on a pirate ship. Not pirates in the "we're stealing movies and trading them on-line" sense, but in the "pillaging and plundering the high seas" sense. He carefully explored his new surroundings, wondering why it was suddenly so uncomfortable to walk. His breathing, oddly, was fine. Walking, however, kind of hurt. He looked down and realized why. It was the boots – thigh-high, with a cuff that folded back down almost to his knee. The boots also had a slight heel, which seemed really impractical on a wet wooden floor. Tony chuckled, wondering what Gibbs would have to say if someone showed up on a Navy destroyer in thigh-high leather boots. Surveying the rest of his wardrobe, Tony realized that he was in skin-tight black leather pants – 'Ah,' Tony thought. 'These are going to chafe.' – and a puffy shirt that would have given Seinfeld a run for his money. He did, however, have a sword on his belt, along with a knife – Marine Rule #9 apparently valid for pirates as well.

Just as Tony was thinking that he either needed a psychiatrist or an alarm clock – he hadn't yet decided if he was crazy or dreaming – another form came up the starboard side of the vessel, making a beeline for the ship's wheel. Tony blinked twice. It was … it was GIBBS. Wearing a blue captain's jacket and a dark broad-brimmed hat, sporting both a feather in the back and an "NCIS" logo on the front. He was carrying not a cup of coffee, but a cup of sliced green apples.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs said. "About time you woke up. Go downstairs and help Abby."

Abby? Abby was here? "On it, Boss … uh, Captain," Tony said as he headed into the galley.

Abby was busy going over maps and charts and barely acknowledged him when he walked in. "This compass is giving me trouble," she complained. "Cap'n said you could fix it." She stood, turned to him, and held the instrument out. Tony reached out to take it, and stopped mid-motion as he looked at the creature in front of him.

Abby's tattoos had somehow morphed one into the other, until her entire body – all the parts he could see, anyway – was totally covered in artwork. There were ships and faces, maps and symbols, sea creatures and monsters – some in black & white, some in color. She was wearing a tight black leather bodice and a flowing skirt of what looked like rough silk. On her feet were boots that were laced up past the mid-calf area that Tony could see.

Abby looked him up and down at the same time he was regarding her. "Nice boots," she said with a smile. "Think you can fix this compass?"

"I'm not really good with mechanical things," Tony stammered. "Maybe you should ask McGee."

She looked at him as if he had sprouted gills. "You want me to ask the captain's monkey to fix the compass?" she asked. A small monkey with an NCIS cap jumped from the top of a cabinet onto Abby's shoulder. "Never mind, I'll get Kate to do it."

Seconds later, Kate walked into the room. "Did I hear my name?" she said, smiling at Abby. She glanced at Tony. "It's about time you woke up. I can't believe Cap'n Gibbs let you sleep as long as he did." Tony stared, open-mouthed.

"What?" Kate said with annoyance.

"You … look … amazing," Tony said. She did. Her hair was long and dark and filled with waves and curls Tony didn't remember Kate having. The peasant-style top she wore just barely concealed ample breasts that Tony also didn't remember Kate having. Her dark crimson skirt was tied up around her knees, and he could see brown knee-high boots covering her lower leg. She had a locket around her neck and a dagger at her waist.

Kate looked at him, with a roll of the eyes and an exasperated sigh. "Of course I do, Tony. It's your dream. You always make me sexy in your dreams."

At that moment, a bell sounded – loudly and in repetition. "We're being attacked!" Abby yelled, quickly gathering up the maps and documents on the table and sliding them into a secret compartment underneath. McGee the monkey scurried off to hide.

"All hands and full weapons!" Kate yelled. She looked back at Tony. "Come ON!" she urged. He followed her up to the deck.

Gibbs was there, along with someone who looked a lot like Ducky, except that he had wild hair and an eye patch and his mouth was sewn shut. Tony looked at Kate.

"It's punishment," she said with a shrug. "Cap'n'll take 'em out in another day or two." Tony stared.

As they rounded the mast, they looked where Gibbs and Ducky were looking and saw a swarm of snowmen coming over the bow, armed with what looked like toy doctor's kits. Two Girl Scouts were bringing up the rear flank, along with a female pirate who looked like Tony's father's assistant Debbie. Her Blackberry was glowing like an ice beast's energy wand. Abby, Kate, Gibbs and Ducky were in full battle mode, impaling the snowmen with swords, daggers and other weapons. Coal and carrots were flying everywhere. Ducky decapitated one snowman, sending the enemy's head flying into the sea with a sickening 'plop'; it began to melt instantly. Tony reached instinctively for his Sig, but found a sword instead. He shrugged, pulled the sword, and prepared to enter the fray when another repeating bell rang. He turned to see where it was coming from, and slipped on the wet wooden floor. "I knew these boots were going to be trouble," he thought, as he fell and hit his head on the cannon support. The last thing he heard as he blacked out was the bell. That damned bell …still ringing.

Tony woke up with a start and looked around him. The credits were running on TV, he was lying on the floor by the couch, and his phone was ringing and vibrating in front of him. The screen said "Gibbs." The clock said 7:30 p.m.

"Gibbs," Tony said into the phone. "Captain … I'm here."

"Captain?" Gibbs said, with both amusement and concern in his voice.

"What?" Tony said, still trying to get his bearings.

"You called me Captain," Gibbs said, obviously waiting for an explanation.

"Um … sorry, Boss," Tony said, sitting up against the couch and taking as deep a breath as he could. "I … um … I was having a dream." There was silence on the other end of the phone. "We were on the Black Pearl," Tony said, trying to explain. "From Pirates of the Caribbean? You were the captain, as, of course, you would be, and McGee was a monkey; Kate looked amazing … she would have definitely given Keira Knightly a run for her money; so would Abby. You sewed Ducky's mouth shut …"

Gibbs cut him off. "Enough, DiNozzo," he said. "Just how many doses of your meds did you take today?" He sounded worried and annoyed. Mostly annoyed. But a little worried.

Tony blew out another breath, and then coughed a few times as he pushed himself up from the floor to sit on the couch. "We were being attacked by snowmen," Tony said, not realizing just how ridiculous that sounded until after he said it.

"I'm going to send Ducky over," Gibbs said. Tony could see him furrowing his brow and motioning to McGee to get the coroner.

"No, Boss, I'm fine," Tony said. "Don't send Ducky over here. I just had a really vivid dream, that's all. I was watching 'Pirates of the Caribbean' on HBO and I fell asleep with this blanket with snowmen on it and Kate had on this blouse and you had a thing for apples and there were these boots that got really slippery on the wood floor and …"

Gibbs cut him off. "I'm starting to warm up to the idea of sewing someone's mouth closed," he said, dryly.

"Sorry, Boss," Tony said, wincing as if he'd just gotten a headsmack through the phone. "I really am fine. I just need to eat something. I'll go do that now."

"Good idea," Gibbs said. And then Tony heard someone who sounded like Fornell call Gibbs' name. The call disconnected and Tony breathed a sigh of relief.

Tony hung up the phone and heated up some leftover pasta primavera for dinner. He turned off every single electronic device he had – no TV, no Xbox, no stereo …nothing. He folded up the snowman blanket and stuffed it back into the linen closet, not entirely sure if he'd ever be able to look at it again without thinking of the decapitated snowman that Ducky had sent to that great big glacier in the sky. He also threw out the last of the carrots in his fridge. They reminded him of the bloody – well, not bloody, exactly, more like watery – they reminded him of the watery battle on the Black Pearl and snowman parts littering the deck.

Tony ate his dinner in total silence. Between the Xbox, visitors, movies and television, he had obviously had way too much stimulation in the past few days. At 9 o'clock, he decided it was safe to put on some music, and carefully chose a calming Windham Hill sampler. He pulled out the laptop and went through his e-mail, sending his friend in Colorado a synopsis of his dream and a summary of what he thought it all meant. He thought that would go over well at NORAD. Ducky called around 9:30 p.m. to wish him a good night and to make sure he'd fully recovered from what Gibbs had said was "some weird snowman nightmare Tony had about a movie he was watching."

By 10 p.m., Tony was feeling pleasantly drowsy, but was also just a little unsure about whether or not sleep would lead him back to the Black Pearl filled with marauding snowmen. He took his meds and climbed into bed, figuring that even if he did end up back in the Caribbean, at least Kate would be a lot more fun. He laughed into his pillow at the thought of McGee as a monkey, and fell asleep to strains of "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me …" running through his head.