BABYSITTING

CHAPTER 8

'You're sure gonna have a big scar!' exclaimed Josh once the nurse had left. He had remained silent during the nurse's visit, but had observed the re-dressing of Tony's wound from the doorway.

'It's not that bad,' said Tony as he stretched out his legs and put his feet on the coffee table. 'Doc said it'll fade to a thin line eventually.'

'Doesn't it hurt?' asked Josh. He had seen the man suck in his breath as the nurse had investigated the stitching.

'Not as much as THIS did,' announced Tony as he tugged on his sweatpants to reveal a small, round scar on the inside of his lower leg, just above the ankle bone.

'But it's really small,' said Josh, sitting down next to Tony and peering at the mark. 'What happened? Did you get shot?'

'I was about your age,' began Tony. 'I was riding my bike, without shoes. My mother had this thing about me not riding my bike without anything on my feet, but of course I knew better. I took a ride and then managed to get the metal kick-stand stuck right in there. I managed to pull it out, but it hurt like hell.'

'Did you get stitches?' asked Josh, shuddering at the pictures that Tony's story was generating in his mind.

'Didn't even go to the doc,' Tony informed him. 'I wrapped it up myself. There was no way I was going to tell anyone about it. I would have only got into trouble for riding bare foot in the first place. You got any scars?'

'Cut myself with a Stanley knife,' said Josh, proudly holding out his thumb. 'Three stitches.'

Tony took a closer look at the small scar and nodded his head.

'Now that's something a girl's gonna ask about one day,' he told Josh, making the boy laugh. 'Great conversation starter. Women are suckers for scars.'

Tony was glad that the worried look that Josh had worn while the nurse had been there had disappeared. The kid had enough to worry about without being concerned about Tony.

'Hey, Josh,' he said lightly. 'Fire up your laptop and let's try emailing to McGee those pictures your dad took. There's a connection point over there beneath the desk.'

Josh did as Tony had suggested but shook his head when he was unable to complete the task.

'Can't get the internet,' he explained to Tony.

'Damn,' was Tony's response. 'McGee couldn't get it working yesterday either. I don't know how Gibbs manages to function.'

'McGeek must have nearly imploded,' laughed Josh, and Tony felt a rush of pride and delight.

And that's when Tony's keen senses, developed over years of working as an investigative agent, told him that things were not right. In his peripheral vision, Tony saw a figure pass by the living room window. Too big to be a domestic pet; definitely a person. Someone was in Gibbs' back yard and had been looking in the window– someone who had no business being there.

'Josh,' he said quietly to the boy. 'I want you to run quickly to Gibbs' room and get his gun from his bedside drawer, and then come straight back to me.'

'You..you want me to get Gibbs' weapon? Why?' asked Josh, all traces of laughter gone.

'Just get it,' Tony told him. 'I think we might be about to have some unwelcome company. Go.'

Josh was up and down the stairs quicker than he'd ever been before. He found Tony standing up, holding on to the arm of the couch for support. Unbeknown the Josh, Tony had picked up the landline to ring Gibbs, only to discover that the line was dead.

'Come on,' whispered Tony, taking the gun and placing it inside the sleeve of his sweater. 'Grab your lap top. We're gonna go take a look at Gibbs' latest boat.'

…………………………………………….

Gibbs was annoyed. Whoever had trashed Mick's house had clearly been looking for something, but they had no clue as to what. All they had was a bunch of fingerprints that had to be processed asap. Not trusting McGee or Ziva to put enough pressure on Abby to put the prints on the top of her list, he had decided to swing by NCIS and tell her in person. After that his plan was to pick up some lunch and go check on Dinozzo and Josh. As he drove into the NCIS car park, his phone rang.

'Ziva, what?' he barked into the phone as he got out of the car.

'Gibbs, you need to hurry,' said Ziva.

'Where are you?' demanded Gibbs, standing still. They had both left Mick's house at the same time.

'I am in the bullpen,' said Ziva. 'You have a visitor.'

Gob smacked once again by the Israeli's driving speed, Gibbs quickened his pace and made his way into the building. When the elevator doors opened at the team's floor, Gibbs face broke into a smile. He was standing face to face with Mick O'Connor.

……………………………………………………….

Tony felt every step down into the basement as a painful jolt into his midsection, but kept his discomfort to himself. Josh had shut the door behind him and was following closely. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, Tony paused and shut his eyes. Beads of perspiration had formed across his forehead and his heart was hammering in his chest. He really needed to sit down, but his own health was not his top priority at that moment.

'You okay, Tony?' Josh whispered.

'Yeah,' Tony replied quickly. 'My eyes were just adjusting to the light. Let's go.'

Tony led the way into the depth of the basement and around the eerie skeleton that was Gibbs' latest project before stopping in the darkest corner.

'Let's get in there,' Tony whispered, pointing to a small recess beneath a low bench. Reaching behind him for Josh's hand, Tony couldn't help but notice that the boy was trembling.

'Don't worry,' he whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. 'It'll be cosy. I have to warn you, however, that it's been a while since I've had a proper bath.'

Josh giggled despite his trepidation and allowed the special agent to lead him gently towards the recess. He scurried in and placed the laptop at the back against the wall. Tony dropped to his hands and knees and remained there for a few moments, fighting the urge to pass out, until he crawled in beside Josh. With his remaining strength, Tony reached out and pulled a piece of tarp over the pair of them. That done, he placed Gibbs' gun in his hand and waited.

………………………………………………….

'Jethro,' said Mick by way of greeting as the two men gripped each others hand. 'You got Josh? Tell me you've got Josh.'

'He's at my place,' Gibbs assured him. 'He's with one of my agents.'

Gibbs took in Mick's wet, filthy hair, damp clothes and wild look.

'Mick, what happened?'

'Two guys jumped me,' Mick explained. 'Took me to their boat and tried to make me tell them where the photographs I took of them are.'

'Photographs?' repeated Gibbs, raising his eyebrows.

'I took some of a couple of guys behaving suspiciously outside the gym I work at,' explained Mick. 'Seemed they took exception.'

'Let me get this stuff to Abby,' said Gibbs, holding up the evidence bag. 'And then I'll get you to Josh. Sit at my desk and ring him.'

Before Gibbs managed to get back to the elevator, he was stopped by a shout of surprise from Mick. Turning back, he saw his friend pointing to the plasma that still showed the picture of the AWOL Petty Officer Paul Williams.

'That's Slim,' said Mick. 'He's one of the guys that jumped me.'

'What did you do with the photographs?' asked McGee.

'I don't know where they are,' said Mick, a look of exasperation on his face. 'I got one of those newfangled cameras as a gift. Hasn't got any damn film – just this flat chip thing. I gave it to Josh to sort it out.'

'Boss,' said McGee, his face turning ashen. 'If those two guys were looking for the photographs at the O'Connor house and couldn't find them, there's only one place they'll be.'

'Spit it out, McGee!' bellowed Gibbs, all patience gone.

'They'll be on Josh's laptop,' said McGee. 'He's got it with him, at your house.'

Gibbs quickly rang his house but was met with the signal that told him the phone was not currently connected.

Terminating the call and speed dialing Tony's cell, his face grew red with frustration when he heard the recorded message that the phone was out of range or switched off.

'David, McGee, let's go!' he shouted. 'Mick, you're with me.'

As the four made their way to the cars at break-neck speed, Gibbs's brain kept trying to tell him that Josh and Tony were both fine. The only problem was that his gut was telling him otherwise.

………………………………..

Jeffrey Wilson, drug dealer AKA Shorty, cast his eyes over the living room. The house appeared to be empty, but he had seen the man and the young boy in this very room from his vantage point outside the window. Jeffrey saw the packets of new bandages on the coffee table and the pillows piled down one end of the couch. It didn't take a genius to work out that the man must be injured in some way, which was just as well because Jeffrey was a man of considerable greed and aggression but not a great deal of empathy or intellect. Jeffrey smiled evilly and gestured to Paul Williams, AKA Slim.

'They're still here and they're not gonna put up any fight,' Jeffrey told Paul.

'There's a basement, but the door's locked,' Paul told him.

'Well I guess that's where they must be,' purred Jeffrey, withdrawing his gun from his belt. 'Let's go play hide and seek.'

…………………………………………

In their hiding spot, Tony and Josh could both hear heavy footsteps on the floorboards above them.

'I'm scared,' whispered Josh, and Tony couldn't blame him. He wasn't overly relaxed about the situation either, and if he was in Josh's situation he'd be petrified. He managed to maneuver his arm so that he could place it across Josh's shoulders. Tony was surprised when Josh wrapped both arms around him and nuzzled his head against Tony's chest.

'It's okay,' Tony whispered, not believing his own words. 'I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you.'