CHAPTER 10

Gibbs poked his head in the doorway of Tony's bedroom. "Hey, I'm going to work. Abby's coming over at later to keep you company. She was chomping at the bit," he said apologetically.

"It's okay, I was going to call her anyway. Maybe we can watch her DVD of Cruising together."

Gibbs asked suspiciously, "Is that that Al Pacino movie?"

Tony smiled wickedly and waggled his eyebrows.

"Thought so. You lay in bed until Ducky says otherwise," Gibbs said sternly.

"But the only TV is downstairs," Tony protested.

"All right, so lay on the couch until Ducky says otherwise." Gibbs shook his head and headed out of the room, muttering to himself, "What did I get myself into?"

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After she loaded the movie into her DVD player and hooked it up to Gibbs' small TV, Abby sat next to Tony on the couch. While they were waiting for the credits to roll by, she told him about the results of the investigation into Lieutenant Hannaford's death. The forensic evidence had indicated that his death was indeed a suicide.

Plus Balboa had tracked down one of Hannaford's acquaintances who had received an email from the lieutenant only days before. "He felt he had no future beyond the Navy. It was his whole life." Abby seemed unusually introspective when she said, "You don't think we're so wrapped up in our jobs we'll feel that retirement means the end of our lives, do you?"

"Of course not. Don't be silly. Ridiculous." Abby still looked worried so Tony gave her a hug. He assured her, "Hey, c'mon, we've got a great circle of friends, and things we love to do outside of work – just look at your nuns – and we all support each other. None of us are alone." He didn't say that he had never felt so alone as when he'd been afloat on a ship packed full of men. Just thinking about it made Tony feel empty, but if anything, the experience had taught him that he could manage fine on his own. He had the leadership skills and could run an investigation solo – he just didn't want to.

Abby stayed until Gibbs came home for dinner, at which point Tony was falling asleep on the couch. It took both of them to get him up to bed. Apparently Abby didn't think that there was anything hinky about Tony occupying the big front bedroom.

Once Abby had gone, Gibbs helped Tony settle down for the night. Instead of leaving, as Tony expected, Gibbs toed off his shoes, lay on the bed and held him in his arms. Tony was too wiped out to do much more than exchange a couple of kisses but that was okay because he now knew that, even if Jethro couldn't say the words, he loved him.

As he drifted off to sleep, Tony thought how amazing it was to be the recipient of Gibbs' love and attention. The fact that they were both men didn't seem to matter to Tony quite as much as it had just a couple of days ago.

He figured that their mutual attraction had developed from spending so much time together, both on and off the job. But why Gibbs would be interested in him – a man – at this point in his life was not so easy to understand. And, for that matter, why would he be feeling the same way, all of a sudden? It was like someone had flipped a switch and suddenly he was into Gibbs, big time. Okay, he had always been into Gibbs, had admired the man to the point of idolization, but this was different – obviously.

It didn't matter what had brought them to this point. The important thing to Tony was that he was happy, in a deep-down satisfied way, just knowing that Gibbs cared deeply for him.

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The next morning Tony slowly made it downstairs for breakfast with Gibbs, but after a few spoonfuls of Wheat-Os, which tasted like wet cardboard, he couldn't stomach any more. Tony pushed his cereal around while he wondered if this was the right time to ask Gibbs the question that had been burning in his mind for a while now.

Gibbs grunted, "You gonna play with it or eat it, Tony?"

Tony dropped his spoon and decided that he may as well just go for it. "Gibbs? Why did it take you so long?"

Gibbs drank a mouthful of coffee and asked, "Hmm?"

Tony asked distinctly, "Why did it take you so long to get me off that damned ship?"

Gibbs seemed to consider his words carefully before saying, "Vance put up roadblocks." Tony waited patiently, expecting more of an explanation, and sure enough Gibbs had more to say. "When I finally got a face-to-face with SecNav, he gave me the runaround. I told him that you were the best young agent I'd ever worked with, and I wanted you back. He said that was the point and–"

Tony beamed. "You told him that I'm the best?"

"You wanna hear this or not?"

"I'm the best," Tony said proudly. Gibbs rolled his eyes and started to rise from the table, so Tony said quickly, "Tell me the rest."

Gibbs settled in his chair once again. "They didn't want you around in case you figured out what was going on. Same with McGee and Ziva. When the three of you put your heads together…"

That got Tony's attention. "What was going on?"

"Three agents were brought in to fill your places," Gibbs said with a snort. "Or to be under my watchful eye, anyway. Only, they figured out they were being tested and the shit hit the fan."

"And Langer was taken out," Tony said, understanding.

"Yeah." Gibbs looked away, his eyes distant.

Tony didn't pressure him by asking about Brent Langer's death. He knew that Gibbs had liked him. Langer had been on Gibbs' team for a short while before going over to the FBI, so the suspicion that he had sold classified information when he returned to NCIS was a hit below the belt.

Ever persistent, Tony asked, "So whose arm did you twist to get me back home?"

Gibbs sighed with resignation. "It took me a while to get a meeting with the right person."

"So who was the right person?"

It took Gibbs so long to respond that Tony thought he was never going to get an answer. Eventually Gibbs rubbed his jaw and admitted, "Turned out to be the Surgeon General of the Navy."

"Vice Admiral Broadhurst?" Tony eyed Gibbs suspiciously. "What did you say to him?"

"I pulled out my wild card."

"What wild card?" Tony was afraid to know the answer.

Gibbs hummed and then said, "The plague."

"The plague. As in the pneumonic plague," ascertained Tony, not quite knowing what to make of it.

"Yeah. I sort of…led Broadhurst to believe that the altered plague you'd been infected with could be spread to others. It was in everyone's best interest for you to be stationed back at NCIS headquarters where Ducky could monitor you closely, not on a military vessel where you could infect thousands of men." Gibbs watched Tony, waiting for his reaction.

Tony stared at Gibbs, wanting, quite badly, to give him a headslap. "That's a lot of words for you, Jethro."

"It was Ducky's idea."

"Ducky told you to tell some cockamamie story to the Surgeon General?"

"Well, no. He said he hoped you were taking care of yourself onboard ship because of your lungs."

That hardly made it Ducky's idea and Tony was about to say so but then the enormity of Gibbs' words sunk in. "Wait a minute. You told the Surgeon General that I'm…I'm a Typhoid Mary?"

"Typhoid Tony, only you're an asymptomatic carrier of the pneumonic plague." Gibbs smirked until Tony rose from his chair and punched him in the arm. "Hey, that hurt, DiNozzo!"

Tony sat back down and said, "Good! Wait a minute! What do you mean Ducky can monitor me?"

"The Surgeon General agreed you could come home if you had a blood test every couple of days. And every time you sneeze. Or cough."

Tony laughed in disbelief. "No way am I going to submit to blood tests! I am not going to be a pincushion! I…I bruise easily. I have an erratic work schedule. I cannot be running down to Autopsy for blood tests every day."

Gibbs didn't seem too concerned. "I'll bet Ducky can set you up to do it at home, like with one of those diabetes test kits."

Tony folded his good arm over his chest and clung to the other arm in its sling. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Gibbs just grinned and drank some more of his coffee.

Suddenly it dawned on Tony that this tale that Gibbs had spun to get him out of being an Agent Afloat might have some truth to it. "Gibbs…" He swallowed hard. "I'm not…not really carrying the plague around am I? I might infect people?"

Gibbs assured him, "Of course not. And you don't have to be tested every other day. Just once a week."

"You scared me! I am gonna kill you, Gibbs. Couldn't you have come up with some other reason to get me off that ship?"

The smile left Gibbs' face as he looked into Tony's eyes and assured him, "I did everything I could, Tony. When Plans A, B and C failed, I had to go to Plan D. I was damned if they were going to prevent me from getting my own agent back. I would have done anything to get you back home where you belong. Anything."

Tony placed his hand over his heart and said, "Wow, that's the most romantic thing anyone ever said to me, Jethro."

Gibbs chuckled and leaned over to ruffle Tony's hair.

"Hey, not the hair," Tony protested, but he smiled just the same. Now he knew just how far Gibbs was willing to go in order to keep him where he belonged, and his heart swelled with love for the man.

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"We're back on rotation tomorrow," Gibbs said a couple of days later when they were relaxing in the living room after a late dinner. He had dragged in the TV cart from the dining room and they were watching a western with Steve McQueen hell-bent on revenge.

"We are?" Tony perked up, thinking Gibbs meant that he was cleared to return to work, until he realized that what he meant was that Ziva and McGee were back.

Sure enough, Gibbs told him that McGee had completed his testimony in court, and Ziva had returned home from her overseas assignment. "I can use you back at the office. Think you're up to supporting the team from your desk?"

"When?" asked Tony eagerly. It sucked being grounded but at least he'd be doing something useful.

"Tomorrow. You get tired, get a ride home."

"Sure thing, Boss." Yeah, right, as if he'd admit to Gibbs that he was tired. Gibbs narrowed his eyes and for a moment Tony was afraid he'd spoken aloud. To cover up, he gave Gibbs a bright smile.

"And don't forget you still have to re-qualify."

Tony's stomach sank. "Except…I didn't write it in my report so technically I didn't get injured, so technically I don't have to re-qualify, right?"

Gibbs said, in his usual straightforward way, "Then get in there and fix the damned report, DiNozzo."

"But Boss, technically–"

"You need your hearing checked? Just rewrite it."

"But if I include it, the director is going to find out," Tony said.

Gibbs rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Do it anyway. I'll get Balboa to make any amendments necessary."

"But–"

"I told you already that nobody is going to send you away, Tony. You need to trust me on this."

Tony nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I'm trusting you, Jethro," he said, silently pleading with Gibbs not to let him down.

They sat next to each other and watched the rest of the movie, though Tony couldn't keep his mind on it while Gibbs' thigh was pressed against his own. By the time the final credit rolled by and Gibbs got up to turn the TV off, he was half dozing.

"Bed," Gibbs said, pulling a groaning Tony to his feet.

"I'm too tired. I wanna sleep here," Tony whined.

"You don't want me to join you in bed?" asked Gibbs with a smirk.

"Uh…yeah. Like duh," Tony replied with a short laugh.

"Then what're you waiting for?"

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Gibbs slipped into the bed facing Tony and ran a hand down the back of Tony's head. His palm lingered at the nape of his neck, warm and intimate. "I won't have anyone intimidate my agents, or hold threats of relocation against them. You are not going anywhere, Tony."

"I don't want to go anywhere."

"Good, because you're mine, you got that?"

For a long moment, Tony couldn't breathe, between the feeling of the rough fingers clasping his neck and the way Gibbs was moving in on him, his eyes glinting in the bedside light. "Jethro?" he whispered, asking for something he didn't quite understand.

"It's okay, I've got you."

Gibbs nuzzled his way up to Tony's mouth, licking and sucking as he went. He kissed Tony's lips gently at first and then with more intensity, and Tony melted into the kiss with a moan. Gibbs' kisses left him flushed and breathing unevenly, aching for more. When Tony arched his back and thrust against Gibbs he was reminded of his wound, but that didn't stop him. He asked hoarsely, "Please, please?"

"Slow down, slow down. It's all right, there's plenty of time. After you get the stitches out," Gibbs promised, kissing Tony one last time before settling behind him with his arms wrapped snugly around his waist.

Tony didn't want to wait but he knew Gibbs was right. It was a pretty good alternative, having Gibbs hug him as they both dropped off to sleep. Tony wasn't like Gibbs; he didn't find it natural and easy to sleep through the night with someone, but he was fast getting used to it. It seemed like second nature to Gibbs. Of course he'd had considerable experience with his wives. Still, it was pleasant, knowing that he'd wake up to smiles and intimate moments with Gibbs, with someone he knew well. No more waking up wondering who he'd gone home with last night, and how he was going to avoid any morning-after awkwardness.

Gibbs shifted and mumbled something, and a minute later he was snoring contentedly. Tony smiled as he closed his eyes and soon he was also asleep.

The next morning, Tony rolled over, swearing at the pain in his side. He breathed between his teeth until it subsided to a dull throb, then opened his eyes to find Gibbs propped up on one elbow. He was frowning and running his hand through his hair, which was standing up on end. "Morning," Tony said, smiling and reaching out to touch Gibbs' cockscomb.

His eyes barely open, Gibbs growled, "Hmm, fuck, coffee." He rolled out of bed with a low groan and headed for the bathroom.

"Wow, so much for a romantic morning with the one I love," Tony muttered under his breath. He did some groaning of his own as he slowly got out of bed. The shower was running and he really had to pee, so he figured what the hell and joined Gibbs in the bathroom.

Gibbs hadn't stepped into the shower yet. He'd stripped off his undershirt and stood there scratching his belly while he rinsed off his toothbrush, clad only in his cotton undershorts. Tony smiled at the way Gibbs' cock was tenting his underwear, and he rubbed his own awakening erection. Before he could say anything, Gibbs slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a long, sloppy kiss. Gibbs tasted like toothpaste and his tongue was slippery and insistent, but as soon as Tony started to really get into it, forgetting that he needed to take a piss, Gibbs let him go with another half-awake grunt. His eyes were a bit more alert, and he was smirking a bit, but it was obvious that he was not a morning person.

Tony said gently, "Go take your shower. I'll get the coffee going." The look that Gibbs gave him, of gratitude and love, and the quick kiss before he shucked off his underwear and stepped into the steaming water, just about made up for the grumpiness of the man he was now partnered with. The sight of Gibbs' well-muscled rear end disappearing behind the shower curtain – now, that made up for everything. Tony was looking forward to seeing a lot more of the man, and soon. "Nice ass, Jethro," he said with a laugh.

Tony went down to the kitchen, put the coffee on, and while he was waiting for it to brew he found a fat red pen in the junk drawer near the telephone. "Only another ten days," he said, and drew a big circle around the date his stitches were due to be removed on the Wooden Boatbuilding calendar hanging on the wall.

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"We leave in five minutes," Gibbs called from downstairs.

"Sure thing, Boss." Tony sat on the bedside chair and pulled on his socks and shoes, frustrated at the amount of effort it was taking. Just getting showered, shaved and dressed had tired him out. He had a feeling he was going to be dragging by lunchtime.

This was Tony's first day back and he was bummed that he was going to be tied to his desk. He yearned to be out working on a case. Even investigating a floater in Rock Creek Pond would be preferable to being stuck in the office while Gibbs and the team were out in the field. If only he had seen the knife a couple of seconds earlier, things might have played out differently. Tony straightened, one hand on his ribs. There had to be something he could do to speed up the healing process so he could get back faster. Maybe he could try one of those mind-over-matter mental exercises he'd read about, or acupuncture, or an herbal remedy that encouraged healing.

Tony rose from the chair, his arm against his side, trying not to wince. He'd decided to forego the sling, figuring that it wouldn't do to draw attention to his injury. Besides, he didn't want Vance to see any evidence that he'd been hurt and start asking questions.

Pocketing his wallet and badge, Tony looked up to find Gibbs standing there, watching him. "I'm just coming."

"You can't speed up healing just by wishing it so, DiNozzo. And you forgot this." Gibbs held up the sling that Tony had tossed aside and stepped forward to help him put it on. "You don't wear it, you're going to rub that wound and it'll take that much longer to heal."

"How'd you know what I was thinking, Boss?" Tony slapped the side of his head and said, "Oh yeah, stupid me: you're Gibbs." That brought out a bright smile on Gibbs' face, and seeing the way he smiled made Tony's heart beat faster. Damn, Jethro was handsome, all sparkling blue eyes and knowing smirk. Tony loved everything about the man, from his callused fingers and scarred knees right down to the freckles – or were they age spots? – that dusted his temples. How had it taken him so long to acknowledge that he had feelings for the man?

"Ready to go?" asked Gibbs, stepping away as soon as he finished adjusting the sling.

"Raring to go," confirmed Tony. He took a deep breath and followed Gibbs downstairs and out to his car.

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