Chapter 5

Tony woke to a hissing whisper. "I'm not gonna do it. You do it." He wasn't sure what 'it' was and didn't really care. He grumbled, looked at his watch and sighed, "Fuck." It was time to get up already. He realized that the whisper was Dean. "Dean, your whisper is louder than ... something really loud. I'm up." He scrambled out of bed, made it, then headed for the bathroom.

He was soon done and got the call to breakfast. He was a bit disappointed to find that breakfast today was biscuit sandwiches. They were good, heavy, thick slabs of ham or thick patties of spicy sausage between halves of buttery, flaky biscuit with a fried egg. It wasn't what they usually got, but it was delicious.

Tony found that he and Gibbs were to be left behind on the gator hunt, as they were set to supervise the construction crew that was going to break ground for Ma'mere's new house, while Jimmy, Dean, and Cosmo were set to help Ma'mere however they were needed. Neither he nor Gibbs was that upset about missing a gator hunt. And, as Tony remarked, "We don't have a license or a permit. And ... how the hell do you hunt a thing with that many teeth, in a swamp? Um ... I'd give it the ol' college try, but ... not my idea of fun."

Remy appeared from somewhere outside, grabbed a couple of sandwiches, and trotted out again, calling, "Bye. Gotta meet Orly. He say big gator seen down south a ways."

Gibbs watched him trot off, then turned to Tony. "AJ, we've got a bunch of stuff to get done today. First, we have to peg out the ground for the foundations and pilings. Then we have to make sure that the Port-a-potties are delivered, set up, and clean. I swear, if they deliver them full, I'm gonna stuff some suit into one."

Tony sighed, remembering the case where someone had delivered a bunch of portable toilets that hadn't been pumped out. The Chief Petty Officer in charge of the premises had flipped his cookies and stuffed the driver into one. The man had drowned. "Jet ... not a good idea."

"Feet first." Gibbs grimaced as he remembered the same case. "Well, maybe I'll just yell at someone. Come on. After the johns are delivered, we need to make sure the sand and gravel are delivered to the right place."

Tony nodded. "And we need to figure out how many piers we need and how big to make 'em. That way I know how much concrete to order."

A man came over just then, "Cee-cee Ryder, an' I done heard all the jokes. You really think poured concrete will be stable enough?"

Tony thought. "Probably. What's your suggestion?"

"Driven pilings. I'd think at least nine feet up and ten down. Get twenty-foot poles, and saw them even after." He looked into the distance. "I can get you enough for fifty dollar each."

Gibbs frowned. "How are we gonna drive 'em?"

"I got a driver. I can start as soon as I get the materials. If you wanna do piers, still could use the lumber, instead of concrete. Pour the pads individually instead of a full slab. Make it float instead a' tryin' to reach bedrock." Cee-cee thought for a second. "Let me go to my truck. Meet you at the shelter. Got a map we can look at."

He returned quickly with a rolled up topographical map. They spread it out over the big table under the shelter, much to Ma'mere's disgust. She needed the table for cooling pies, but was content to wait until they were done.

A quick look told them that the bedrock was at least twenty feet down, so they were going to have to float the house. This wasn't as bad as you might think; there were several very large houses that were 200 years old or older that were floating. As long as the piers and foundations were properly maintained, the house should last.

Tony consulted his papers, then asked, "Cee-cee, you know where we can get the sand and base rock?" He passed over a quarter sheet of yellow paper that he'd written the quantities on.

Cee-cee took it, read quickly, and nodded. "I do. I know un homme who runs a dredge. He stockpiles the sand and gravel. I'll give him a call. Pretty sure he can deliver by ... noon."

Tony sighed. "That'd be great. We're dealing with marking out parking and puttin' up johns."

"Ah! Johns ver' important." Cee-cee's solemn tone made them all laugh. "I made a call."

Gibbs nodded. "Thank you. Now ... I need to find string and stakes. I can make the stakes from some cord wood. But I need string to mark out the foundation so we can figure out where to put the piers."

Cee-cee pointed to a pickup. "Go ask Dan. I bet he got some."

Tony trotted over to the truck, offered his hand to the wizened man standing beside the bed and said, "AJ DiNozzo. Friend of the family. We need some string to mark out a foundation for Ma'mere. You got some?"

Dan nodded. "I come early to hep' out. Got string, pegs, markin' paint ... what we do?"

Tony pointed to Gibbs. "He's in charge of the house. I'm dealing with parking and johns."

Dan handed Tony a bag with several cans of spray paint in it. "Here. I take one, you'll need the rest. Best you mark out parking spots or they'll be parked higgledy-piggledy and we'll be forever askin' people to move."

Tony nodded. "I'll need some temporary marks then. You got enough string that I can have some?"

Dan pointed to a reel. "There's for you. I got another deal for the foundation. Just reel it back up when you're done and put it back in the bed."

Tony took the reel. "Thanks."

Tony realized that he was going to need help to measure out the spaces, make sure that there was a proper drive aisle and walkways. It wouldn't do to finish marking and find that there was no way to get to the back of the lot or safe places to walk. He wondered how many spaces they would need.

He was just getting ready to go look for Ma'mere to ask when a man of about 20 trotted up. "Jean Babin. Ma'mere sent me to hep' you. We need 'nother couple men, oui?"

Tony introduced himself then agreed, "Yeah. It would be great if we had one on each end of the line, one in the middle and me to mark. What do you think?" Tony was used to taking charge, so he did.

"Oui. I got it. I'll call my brothers to meet us down the lot. It's this way." He trotted off with Tony at his heels. "I wish I had a bit more time today. Coach is all over us, says the team is a bunch of girls. We're all out of shape. I'm not, but I do like my run. It's just over a mile down to the lot. You gonna make it?"

Tony snorted. "A mile? Easy-peasy. But how are all the other people gonna make it? A mile is a long way for civilians to hoof."

Jean pointed to a tractor. "Wagon with benches on it, all made up. Da bolted 'em down to make 'em safer. Take twenty at a time, an' we got three."

Tony nodded. "That's great. I wasn't looking forward to trying to find a bus."

Jean looked horrified. "Bus? Mon Dieu, too hot. No AC in anything we could use."

They were at the lot by now and found three more young men, obviously related, waiting.

Jean introduced them as Lon, Mark, and Guillaume: his brothers, both older and younger. "We go now." Jean frowned as he realized that Tony had carried all the tools. "Homme, you shoulda shoved some a' dat off on me. But ... ne'me'min' Allons-y."

Tony nodded. "Ok. And don't worry about me carrying shit. This is nothing," he laughed. "Try running ten Klicks with an eighty-pound pack ... in hundred-plus-degree heat, deep sand, and dodgin' bullets."

The four brothers eyed him for a moment; then Mark, as the oldest, said, "Oh! Homme, merci pour vos service."

Tony shrugged. "Welcome. Now ... we best get to gettin'. I need to be back to deal with the Port-a-potty guy by noon."

They eyeballed the lot, trying to figure out where to put things. Guillaume offered, "If we just make the drives good an' wide, people can walk at the edges of them. We'll set up a shelter so there's shade for people waitin' for a ride. Bet if we do it right, we can make parkin' for at least a hundred cars."

Tony nodded absently. "Better make sure they're big enough for a full-size pickup or van. With door room. I hate when I have to fiddle so I don't take a chunk out of someone's door."

"Right. So..." Mark paced off an area in the middle of the road, then used a stick to mark it out. "About this big ..."

Tony nodded. "And that's about half the width we need for drives. So ... measure it off in even strips, then take down the strings we don't need ... spray the lines, then each one of us take a strip and paint out the spaces. Better get goin'."

They worked quickly, telling jokes, laughing, and horsing around a bit. It didn't take very long to stretch the strings on pegs that Tony made from sticks gathered from the tree line. They made sure that the lines were straight and square; the lot was a bit odd-shaped, but they decided to 'waste' room, leaving the parking lot a rectangle, rather than try to use all the space. This left odd-shaped areas here and there, good for gathering places and conversation and driving around the ends of the parking lanes.

"Okay, good. Now we take down every third one and start painting." Tony wiped sweat off his face and neck with his shirt tail.

They all looked up at a call from the road. "Hommes, come." They hurried over to see what the girl on the ATV wanted. "Ma'mere is fussed. You didn't bring water. Here." She produced old-fashioned milk bottles of home-brewed sweet tea from the trunk on the back rack. "Don't drink too fast."

They passed the first bottle around and emptied it in short order. The second and third were passed while the first was being emptied.

Mark nodded. "Merci, Annamarie. Goes down good."

Annamarie jumped as her phone rang. "Damn, now what?" She answered, listened, then announced. "Who AJ, you?"

Tony nodded. "What's up?"

"Ma'mere say, give her your damn phone number an' come to do with the johns."

Tony grimaced; that was what had been bothering him. He'd completely forgotten to share his phone number. "Sorry. Can I give it to you and have you send it to whoever needs it?"

"Fair 'nough. Come ... get on. I'll run you back."

Tony bit his lip. "I'm not done here yet."

Jean made shooing motions with both hands. "Allez, Allez. Go. We got this. All set out. All we got do is paint."

"Ok. But you need to reel the line back up and put it in Dan's truck bed. Old guy, looks like an apple doll?"

Everyone snickered at that description. Lon nodded. "Know him an' his truck. You don't fuss, we'll deal. Best not keep Ma'mere waitin'; she'll spoon you sure."

So Tony got on behind Annamarie, and she took him back to the park just in time to greet the driver. Tony shook his hand, introduced himself, then blatantly checked to make sure they were pumped out.

The driver just chuckled, instead of getting mad. "Done pumped 'em."

Tony grimaced, "Sorry but ... you really don't want to hear the story about the time someone didn't and a guy flipped out."

"I did hear. Up DC way, some 'un stuffed some 'un else into one, head first, cause they delivered 'em full." He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Not good. Drowned 'im, I heard."

Tony nodded. "I had to work it, because the guy who did the stuffing was Navy. It was so nasty." He glanced around. "Where do you think we should set these up?"

The driver looked around. "I got twelve. I think ... four by the shelter, back a ways. Then put another four over behind the spit a' trees there. Ladies don't like people to see 'em. Not like we don't know what they're doin' but ... ladies is particular like dat. So ... and we still got four."

Tony pointed to where they were putting in the foundation for the house. "I think we ought to put two there. And that leaves us with two still on the truck. Are you leaving the truck or taking it back?"

Theo shrugged. "Got to take it. I got three places to pump out this afternoon. What you got in your head?"

"Spares. Something happens to one, we've got one on site to replace it with." Tony eyed the small cubicles, wondering how hard they were to move.

"Good idea. Just got to keep 'em upright or the blue will be all over."

Tony grimaced. "And just exactly what is that stuff anyway?"

"Disinfectant, deodorizer, and perfume. We get it in jugs and dilute it. We use five ounces per gallon and just tap water. I can leave you a jug and keep two units empty."

"That'd be great. How do you want to do this?"

They settled on backing the truck into position, which would allow Theo to use the hoist to put the units into place. Then he, Theo, would pour the concentrate into the tank, and Tony would follow up with the garden hose and fill them. Theo admitted that he was supposed to have water in his tank, but it was emptied for cleaning last night and he hadn't noticed until it was too late. He apologized profusely, but Tony just shrugged it off.

"Man, don't sweat it. You can fill your tank for when you pump out." He went off to get a hose. It took the two men the rest of the afternoon to set the units.

.

Gibbs was also busy. He took a few minutes to split some of the cord wood down into stakes, sharpening them with quick strokes of the axe. He gathered up the stakes and string, dumping them all into a cardboard box that someone had tossed in his general direction. "Ok. now ... where does this bitch go?"

Dan, who'd been squatting a short distance away, watching with approval, said, "Over there. Come." He stood up and ambled away.

Gibbs shouldered the box and followed.

Dan pointed. "Be makin' house here." He pointed again, "View."

Gibbs stood beside Dan and looked where he pointed. "Nice." The view was very pretty, taking in swamp, highway, and river in one expanse. He knew which way to point the house. "She sit on the front porch or side?"

Dan swept one hand to encompass the road. "Front go dat way. Side with de porch, dat."

Gibbs realized that the side was the one with the view. He'd have to adjust the position of the summer kitchen so as not to block it. "Guess the kitchen is going out the back."

"Usual place," Dan agreed. "We best get ta work."

"Right. Think we ought to find the back of the house first ... or the front?" He waited while Dan thought.

He finally allowed, "Back, I tink. Make sure we got enough clearance from de trees."

So they figured out where they wanted the back corners and pegged it out, stretching string as they went. It didn't take them long to have the house outlined.

Then Gibbs started figuring out where to put the pads for the piers. He grumbled. "I need to make room for the HVAC and Manabloc ... the water heater isn't that big."

Dan offered. "How high you puttin' de house?"

"Figured I'd ask someone, likely you, what the floods are like before I decided."

Dan chuckled. "Well, I'm two days older 'n dirt. Seen plenty a' floods. Need to put the house up at least six feet, eight bedda."

Gibbs nodded. "I checked most of the older houses as we rode by. They're all at least six feet up. Some of the new houses ..." he nodded at one nearby. "I'm not sure."

Dan shook his head. "We warn 'em an' warn 'em an' dey don' listen. They be flooded nex' time we get a big blow. Too bad."

Gibbs shook his head. "My Dad always said, 'Anyone who builds a house on a flood plain gets what they deserve.'"

Dan shrugged, "Only problem, dis whole area a flood plain."

They laughed together, then finished pegging out the foundations. Dan was pleased to see that Gibbs was generous with the piers. Inadequate piers led to sagging floors, but trying to convince some penny-pinchers of that was impossible.

It wasn't long before they had the whole thing marked with spray paint and string-and-peg lines.

"Ok, that's that." Gibbs looked at his watch then the sun. "Lunch? I'm starved and thirsty."

Dan nodded. "Could do. Angelique will have food soon. We go, oui?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

The food was again, sandwiches, this time mufaletta, accompanied by slaw, baked beans, and some sort of seafood pasta thing. It was all good. There was also an assortment of sodas, tea, coffee, and some sort of fruit punch. Gibbs gave that a doubtful look before Dan hissed, "Non, homme, il est affreux." He took a cup of coffee instead; although he really hadn't had any intention of drinking the dark purple stuff.

They took their food to the table and settled in to eat. Dan didn't seem inclined to idle chatter, for which Gibbs was grateful. His limited congeniality was already stressed as it was.

When they were finished, they went back to the site to wait for the sand, gravel, and lumber to arrive.

It wasn't long before a lumber yard truck pulled up and a man hopped down. "Lumber, for Miz DuBois. Some 'un sign." He handed Dan his clipboard, Dan signed, and suddenly they had seven or eight people on hand to unload. Someone jumped into the truck and began handing lengths of wood down to someone else, who handed it on to someone who put it in a pile. It took five minutes to get it out.

Gibbs eyed the lumber then said, "Glad it's in short sections. Thanks."

The driver just shrugged and said, "Well, the man who called said you were making pads for underlayment. Just seemed easier all around. Thanks." He took the twenty Gibbs handed him and got back in his truck. He took a moment to call back, "An' your steel building package will be here tomorrow. 'Voir." With that, he drove away.

Gibbs sighed. "We need to get the ground cleared, sand and gravel in, and the pads poured. Better get started."

Dan nodded. "Don' need t' clear the ground; just get the sand and gravel down and forms built. The grass'll die out soon enough."

Gibbs looked doubtful, but then Dan said, "Been done that way hunderd years or more. Best get the forms started."

So Gibbs started cutting the rough lumber into lengths for the forms, while Dan and Cee-cee nailed them up. It only took about an hour.

"Now we jes' wait for the sand." Dan squatted down to drink water and wait.

Gibbs joined him, squatting too. "You serve?"

"Did do."

"Nam?"

"Oui."

"Branch?"

Dan grinned at him. "Snake eater."

"Oh, hell." Gibbs grinned back. "Leatherneck."

"Bit young."

"Desert Storm, Columbia thing, and a bit here and there. NCIS now."

"Ah." Dan finished his water. "Sand's here."

And the sand was there, in a dump truck. Gibbs walked over to it and said, "Need the sand in the middle of that layout." he pointed to the stake and string layout.

The driver parked, set the brakes and got out. "Ok. I'll just check that I'm not drivin' into something. You take down that end a' strings. Don' need to drive over 'em and mess it all up." He walked the route from the blacktop to the foundation, didn't find anything he didn't like, and returned to his truck. He backed up and dumped the sand right in the middle of the foundation, doing his best to spread it by driving as far back as he could then slowly raising the bed as he drove forward again. He managed a thick, even spread of sand, right down the middle of the long way of the foundation. As the bed was eighteen feet wide, he managed a fairly nice, wide strip. They would still have to rake, but spreading it across twenty-five feet was better than having to move it with wheelbarrows.

Gibbs thanked the driver and asked, "When can we expect the gravel?"

"Bout seven or so. If you ain't done wit' de spread, call and put a hold on it. I'll pick it up now and keep it. I'm goin' to late lunch an' then back to pick it up."

Gibbs smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

Again, Ma'mere worked magic, and half a dozen men showed up to help rake the sand around. A couple of women showed up too. It took almost three hours to rake the sand out and make sure it was level. They took a break for supper, then back to work as the truck arrived with the gravel.

The driver was kind enough to ask if they wanted it spread, but since they wanted to lay the forms for the pier pads, they had him dump it all to one side.

As it was nearly dark, they decided to do the gravel tomorrow. Gibbs employed his Marine DI voice to announce, "Okay! Attention, everyone. We'll wrap it up for today. Everyone have a nice evening." He didn't really understand why Tony had practically ordered him to say that, but it couldn't hurt. He watched as most of the helpers took off for home and supper; a few stayed to clean up the tools, then they left too. He made his way back to the B&B to clean up and see if there was anything left to eat.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that Francine had held him a plate, more like a platter, with a half a Mufaletta sandwich, potato salad, coleslaw, and baked beans.

As he settled to eat, Gibbs wondered vaguely where the others were. He looked up from his food to see Tony and Remy come in from the back. Both of them were covered with blood, which had him standing up in alarm.

Tony shook his head, saying, "We're fine, Jet; it's all the gator's." He eyed the shirt he stripped off. "Ick. I need a shower ... bad." He melodramatically sniffed himself. "Real bad."

Remy smacked him in the head. "Drape that shirt over you. You'll scare the locals."

Tony obediently did that and hurried up the back stairs, calling, "Hope there's something left for me."

Gibbs frowned at his plate. "I'll check."

Francine came in from the living room to announce. "There's enough. I kept it aside. I'll plate it up while you're getting ... not bloody. Got a gator, I see."

Remy laughed and went up the stairs, two at a time.

It wasn't long before both Tony and Remy were back downstairs with plates in front of them. Jimmy, Dean, and Cosmo came in from the front porch and settled with tea and chips. They shared their day and made plans for tomorrow.

Tony looked around. "Francine? Where's Ma'mere?"

Francine noticed his concern and was quick to reassure them. "She gone up New Orleans way. Stayin' with one of the grands. She'll be back tomorrow ... early, knowin' her. We movin' her all round to ease the burden of her stayin' ... not that it's a burden, but she's that way." She shrugged in a 'what can you do' sort of way and went back out to sit on the porch swing and relax.

They joined her after washing up the dishes; they'd never leave them for her to do like she said. Remy sprawled on the deck while Cosmo and Dean took chairs. Gibbs claimed the other swing, and Tony and Jimmy took the two lounge chairs. They talked about what to do tomorrow, the weather, the local night spots, and anything else that came up.

Tony asked Jimmy what he'd been doing.

Jimmy made a face. "Manning the first-aid station. You would not believe how many people have done something stupid and gotten hurt. Or maybe you would. I actually had two sprained ankles and a wrist. Untold numbers of blisters and minor cuts. And some numbskull was trying to handle split wood without gloves. Got a hand full of splinters. And that's what I'm doing for the rest of the week."

Tony frowned, "You okay with that, Doc?"

Jimmy swatted at him. "Sure. It's easy work. Not a lot of blood or anything. The station is good. The Sheriff sent his emergency truck over. I'm good. And a lot more useful than peeling apples and potatoes."

Gibbs looked at the sky and his watch, then stood up. "I'm for bed."

Tony yawned. "Me too. Guys?"

They all agreed that they needed to get to bed. It had been a long day, and another tomorrow. Francine joined them. Ami was already in bed. The other guests were all out for the night, expected in after the bars in New Orleans closed.

.

The next morning was a repeat of the last; with steak and egg sandwiches, grits, and gravy for breakfast, along with the usual Cajun coffee. They all ate quickly and headed out.

Remy was again long gone with Orly to trap something or other, while Dean and Cosmo went down to the construction site. Jimmy headed for the first-aid station, biscuits and coffee in hand.

Tony joined Gibbs at the construction site, and they made sure everyone had food and knew what they needed to do. This involved a conga line of wheelbarrows, delivering the gravel to people who raked it out even. They placed the forms as they went and were done in three hours.

Tony checked with the lumber yard and was told that the driver was running a bit late but would be there within the hour.

They sat or stood around for about twenty minutes, waiting for the building kit to arrive. They would have started on the pads, but they thought the concrete was on that truck too.

Another phone call proved that it wasn't, and they were stuck until it came. About half the people drifted off to do other things that needed doing, leaving Gibbs, Tony, Dean, Cosmo, Dan, and Cee-cee to deal with figuring out what to do about the pads.

Tony offered, "The gravel is down and spread. We've got the forms into place, so ... Dean and Cosmo can deal with the kit when it comes." He turned to Cee-cee. "You've got a truck?" Cee-cee nodded. "Ok, can we go get the cement?"

Cee-cee thought for a minute. "All I got is two-wheel, quarter ton. Won't haul more n' about six hundred pound. We gonna need more mix than that. I bedda go find more sand. We forgot to order matrix for the concrete."

Gibbs made a face. "Damn it. I knew I was forgetting something."

Dan shrugged. "Lot to keep track of. If this the biggest mistake you ever make, you doin' good. Go get some." He held out his keys. "Take my truck. You wreck it, I shoot you."

Gibbs took the keys. "Thanks. I won't wreck it."

Tony got his phone out and pulled up a GPS on the lumber yard as they walked to Dan's truck.

Neither one of them had actually paid much attention to it before, but now saw that it was a nearly new Dodge Ram, crew cab, full-size bed, four-wheel drive, that looked showroom-new. The interior was immaculate, as was the bed. Tony settled in the passenger seat with a small smile. "Truck proud. We better not leave even a fingerprint."

Gibbs put the key in the ignition and started the motor. "Too true." He let the truck idle for a bit, listening to the powerful motor thrum. "Got the location?"

"I do. Turn left. The place is about ten miles away."

As they drove they discussed the progress of the house. Tony started, "Jet, I don't think we're gonna get that house done in ten days."

Gibbs nodded. "I don't either. It was a pipe dream from the start. But we can get the shell up and most of the plumbing and wiring figured out. The HVAC system needs figured out too."

Tony agreed, "You're right. But if we can get the vents laid out, that'll be a real start. How long do you actually think it'll take?"

"Three weeks or more; half that time will be waiting for someone to get around to the job. Most likely the plumbing and air will be the hold-up. We can do the wiring, as all that takes is marking where we want to put the sockets and switches, then a bit of drilling through the subfloor and staple the wire underneath the house. I'd like to run it through PVC pipe to keep rodents from gnawing it."

Tony thought about that. "Don't see the need. All we need to do is staple it, then duct tape over it. No squirrels around here. Snakes are a worse problem."

"Oh, okay. You sure?"

"Yeah; talked it over with Remy ages ago."

"Might just close the spaces that have utilities with some plywood or something. Use a bit of sealer to keep critters out."

Tony thought about that, enjoying the silence and ride after the noise and confusion of the last two days. "Might."

They finished the drive in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

LaMay's Lumber turned out to be one of those huge lumber yards that didn't specialize in anything but had everything you could think of available and people who knew what you needed for just about any job.

They were greeted at the door by a young man who said, "Welcome; what can I do for you?"

Tony pulled the receipt out of his pocket and handed it to him. "We ordered this, but when I called to find out when it would be in, the dispatcher said it wasn't on the truck with the building kit. We need to get it and get the pier pads done."

The young man took the receipt and looked it over. "Yeah. We send in the order and the kits come directly from the factory all packed in a trailer. We just take delivery ... Non, dis special! I remember. We make order for a house kit. They're sending a crew to do the shell. It'll be there by now. But you got to have the pads and piers done. Merde!"

Tony agreed. "Shit is right. Now what do we do? There's no time to pour pads and get the piers done if they're sending a crew that should be there by now." He flinched when his phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and said, "DiNozzo." He listened for a bit then eyed the phone like it had been rude to him. "Okay. Damn it."

The clerk returned with an older man. He patted Gibbs on the arm and said, "You consider Quickset? It'll set in an hour."

Gibbs shook his head. "No, I didn't. We're pouring four-inch-thick pier pads, three feet square. I didn't think even that would set in time. And I'm worried about it lasting."

The man smiled. "Non, it'll last. And it'll cure hard in about an hour. You know how many cubic yards you need?"

Tony nodded. "I figured it but I'd appreciate it if you check me."

The clerk took Tony's phone, fiddled a minute then said, "Same as you. Pull Dan's truck around the side an' we'll load you up."

It didn't take long as the whole crew at the store helped load. They even loaded it properly, with most of the load directly over the back axle. In thirty minutes they were loaded and on their way.

Tony took out his phone and called Cee-cee. "You got that aggregate on the way?" he listened for a moment. "Quickset. We can have the whole thing ready in two hours or so."

Gibbs nodded. "We're good?"

"We are. The aggregate is on its way, and Cee-cee said the man is going to deliver and bring his mixer with him. That means we can make big batches and pour more than one pad at a time."

They got back to the site with the cement at the same time that Dan and Cee-cee returned with the aggregate and mixer. Their friend had another job and just let them take a truck and mixer, leaving the pickup there.

Then they were in the middle of everything all at once.

Cosmo and Dean showed up to help mix the concrete. Remy showed up too, dragging Orly with him. Jimmy called to make sure that everyone ate lunch and hydrated properly. He threatened to show up in "Mother-hen Mode" and take care of it himself. He told Gibbs that he'd already dealt with three cases of dehydration-induced heat stroke, although he called it something medical. Gibbs replied that they were fine, then went to get drinks for everyone. He had to glower a couple of younger men into drinking the bottled water he handed out.

Cosmo decided that Dean hadn't had enough water so he chased him around the lot with a bottle then wrestled him to the ground and tried to pour it into his mouth. This resulted in a lot of dust, then mud, which they proceeded to roll in. Since they were laughing and swearing, everyone just stood around watching, cat-calling and making side-bets on who would come out on top. The whole crowd groaned when Gibbs waded into the middle and grabbed both men by a flailing limb and dragged them to their feet. "Okay, you two lug-nuts, settle down. Damn it!" this last as Cosmo managed to slap Gibbs in the face with a wet, muddy arm as he flailed around, trying to get his balance. "That's it. You're both on the mats with me after work. Now settle down."

Cosmo eyed Gibbs for a moment then just nodded.

Dean, on the other hand, had to be a wise ass. "Come on, Jet. Where's the harm?"

Gibbs bent down, picked up something and waved it under his nose. "This was sticking out of a pile of sand for the walk. Don't look like a vampire to me." He swatted Dean in the chest with the long side of the sharpened stake.

Dean caught it, wide-eyed at the thought of falling or rolling on the thing. "Oh. Ouch." Then he yelped, "Damn it. Mats? Seriously? Jet. No."

"Yes. Tonight. Before we eat. Now settle down and get to work before you kill yourselves." Gibbs turned to see who was doing what, and the whole crowd hurried back to work. "Thought so." He returned to shoveling aggregate.

Cosmo smacked Dean in the shoulder. "Damn it. See what you done."

"Me? What'd I do? You started it."

Cosmo gave Dean a filthy sideoogle. "Did not, bitch."

"Jerk." But Dean hurried back to his job, dragging Cosmo with him.

Neither man made any attempt to get the mud off or dry out. They knew better.

Cosmo actually whimpered when he noticed Tony glaring at him. A man standing nearby said, "Don' see what the problem is. A little horseplay never hurt."

"Well, that stake put a whole other spin on it. We shouldn't have been messing around on the job. And ... AJ's ... he really gets pissed when we goof off at the wrong time."

"An' you're scared a' him, why?" The man looked over at Tony who was grinning at something Gibbs had said to him.

"You only see the goofy, nice guy. But he's our CO and a BAMF. Badder n' me by an order of ... a bunch. We better get to work. He's givin' me the fish-eye." Cosmo hurried to pick up a five-gallon bucket of concrete and carry it to where Tony was waiting for it.

After that little debacle, everyone buckled down to work, and they had the pads poured in a little less than two hours.

Gibbs had shoveled aggregate into the mixer, along with Cee-cee, while Orly ran it. Dean, Cosmo, and Remy had shuttled buckets of mix while Tony kept track of where it was needed. Several other people had smoothed the pads, using wet 2x4's and muscle.

So now all they had to do was wait for the pads to harden and the kit to arrive. Gibbs made a third call to the driver, asking where he was. The driver was happy to tell him that he was on the south side of New Orleans and would be there in just about twenty minutes. He remarked that he hated driving through big cities and hung up.

Twenty minutes later, nearly to the second, the truck turned into the soon-to-be driveway, and the driver rolled down his window to ask, "Okay, where do you want it?" Gibbs directed him as he backed into position, and everyone was very pleased to find out that the truck had a crane; all the driver had to do was put the kit down. He climbed up onto the bed and got his control box. It only took him a few minutes to get the kit to the ground. He nodded to the group and asked, "Ok ... who's the job boss?" Fingers pointed to Cee-cee while others pointed to Gibbs or Tony. "Man, this is gonna be a jacked-up mess if you've got that many bosses." He grinned as he said it, so no one took offense.

Gibbs shrugged. "I'm sorta General Contractor, I guess. I'll sign for the kit." He took the proffered clipboard and scribbled his name. "Thanks."

They got another bit of good news when the man offered, "The set-up crew should be here any minute. They were supposed to follow me, but we got separated by traffic, and they got lost. I'll call them and see what's what."

Gibbs glanced at Tony. "Anyone say anything about crew?"

Tony looked blank for a moment then said, "Not that I remember. But ... it's all good. We can use the help."

Five minutes later, the van arrived with eight men in it. They hopped out and headed for the truck driver, who pointed Gibbs out announcing, "Job Boss. See what he wants. I've got to get going; my ol' lady will have a fit if I'm late to supper again." He started up and drove away, waving out the window.

Gibbs had to laugh; he told Tony, "That seems to be the general attitude of truckers everywhere."

Tony shrugged. "I guess most of 'em don't get enough time at home. Whatever time they do get is ... precious. I'd be pissed if I was supposed to get home and got held up. Oh ... wait ... that happens all the time."

Gibbs smacked him on the shoulder. "Oh, shut it, big girl. Come on, we need to sort things out."

Gibbs and Tony found the crew chief to find out what to do next.

"Excuse me; AJ DiNozzo. One of the ... leaders of this madhouse. LJ Gibbs ..." he pointed, "is the other. What do you need? Or need us to do?"

The man was a genial redhead with a genuine smile. "Hello. I actually don't need you to do anything. Our insurance doesn't cover anyone not on our payroll so ... um ... no polite way to put this. Go home. We'll check the concrete and start setting the piers as soon as we can. Should be done with the shell by noon tomorrow. The interior is your problem." He grinned. "So go the fuck fishin' or somethin'."

Tony opened his mouth then shut it. He finally said, "Okay, thanks." He looked around, trying to decide how to tell people they weren't needed yet.

This was taken out of his hands by Gibbs, who told a hovering Ma'mere what was going on. She dealt with the whole thing by telling someone, who told someone else. The word got around quicker than if Gibbs had used a bull horn. People started gathering up gear and cleaning tools, laughing and joking as they did so.

The crew chief stopped Ma'mere for a moment to ask her a few questions. This resulted in some hand waving and pointing from both of them, then a bit of laughter. Ma'mere gathered up her minions and led them all to a hay wagon hitched to a tractor; her voice floated back to the pod. "Y'all gonna stand there like moon calves, or y'all comin' for lunch?"

Gibbs blinked at Tony. "Damn." Tony looked at his watch and agreed. It was nearly 1400. "No wonder I'm starved. Come on." They ran to the wagon and scrambled on.

Ma'mere mounted the tractor and drove off for the shelter, cheerfully singing. Most of the people on the wagon joined in, including Tony. Gibbs had to admit that he was no singer, more a chanter, mostly of obscene cadences. The lady sitting next to him just laughed.

When they got back to the shelter, Tony pulled Gibbs aside. "You do realize that this whole thing is turning into a ... thing."

"I know. But what are we gonna do?" Gibbs realized, just like Tony, that their vacation was turning out to be anything but.

Cosmo and Dean joined them after cleaning up, as Ma'mere said she wasn't having any mud dogs at her tables. Tony looked around. "Where's Remy and Jimmy?"

Dean pointed. "Jimmy's at the first-aid station and Remy ... he's off with someone out in a swamp somewhere, doing something."

It wasn't long before they were called to eat. This time it was cafeteria-style, where they took a tray and moved down the line. Only this food wasn't anything like cafeteria food, or Military Grunt Rations, what Gibbs called rotten Mike Golf Romeo. This was bar-b-q pork on a toasted bun with dill pickles and extra sauce, coleslaw, pasta salad, pork n' beans, mac n' cheese, and pie; all homemade from scratch.

Ma'mere drifted around the room, talking to people, laughing at their jokes, and telling a few of her own. She made sure everyone had drinks and seconds. She finally made her way to the Pod, where she hugged Remy, then Tony. She patted Gibbs on the back and called for more coffee for him. She kissed Cosmo on the forehead, then Dean. Jimmy she also gave a hug. "You boys a Godsend, really. Now, your bit is done. Remy, you make arrangements?"

Remy grinned at her. "I did. We leave tomorrow at sunup."

Tony brightened. "We do? Where for? What?"

Remy swatted him on the shoulder. "You'll find out. Patience won the race."

"No, curiosity killed the cat." Tony shouldered Remy, careful not to spill his tea.

Ma'mere snorted, swatted him too and said, "Satisfaction bring him back. Patience."

"Yes, Ma'am." Tony grinned at her.

"Bon Garçon." She sauntered away. "I send over more pie."

Dean yelled after her. "I'd marry you, if I was older."

Ma'mere snorted at that. "Non, you would not. I'd say non, you offered."

Cosmo offered, "Smart woman, that one."

"Hey!" Dean tried to look indignant but he was laughing, so it was spoiled. Everyone nearby laughed as well.

They finished eating and found out that they did have jobs for the late afternoon. Gibbs was politely asked to split more wood, as he was the only one who seemed to do it to suit Ma'mere. Tony, Dean, and Cosmo were set to shuttling longs, fat splits, and final splits to where they belonged. Jimmy returned to the first-aid station with a happy smile. He was very glad to avoid the wood detail, which he really hated. Remy disappeared with Orly again.

Gibbs picked up his maul, which resembled a rather fat axe, and set the first billet. The half round sat steady, and he raised the maul to split off a section. He was distracted by a shrill childish scream and missed his stroke. The maul bounced off his target and just missed his foot, cutting a chunk out of his boot. "Son of a fucking bitch!" Gibbs flinched back reflexively.

Tony was by his side before he could even sit down. "Jet! What happened?"

"I fucking missed a lick and got my foot." He inspected his boot. "Frankly, I'm not looking forward to taking that boot off."

Tony yelled. "Cos! Need you!"

Cosmo dropped the armload of wood he was carrying and ran over. "What the fucking hell?"

"Jet got his foot." Tony motioned to a nearby chair. "Bring that over."

Cosmo hurried to get the chair while Tony knelt down to unlace Gibbs' boot. "Just hold the fuck still."

Dean, hearing Tony yell, ran up. "What the fuck?"

"Go get Jimmy. Tell him Gibbs took a fucking axe to his foot."

Dean ran off again, headed for the first-aid station, yelling, "Medic! Medic! Doc, you're needed!"

Gibbs started to say something, but Tony cut him off. "Shut up. If you're not hurt, no harm, no foul. But I am not taking off your boot to find toes in it. Just no fucking way. Sit!"

So Gibbs sat in the chair Dean brought. He had to admit that he was feeling decidedly odd. A bit nauseous, in fact. He'd hurt himself cutting wood before and had a similar reaction. He didn't understand how he could be run over, shot, stabbed, and beaten, and just get up and walk away, but cutting himself woodworking, and he turned into a big girl.

He didn't realize he'd said that out loud until Tony said, "Well, one's on the job and the other ... you're supposed to be enjoying it. Makes a difference."

Jimmy came charging up with a familiar ruck on his back. None of the pod were surprised that he'd made a 1500 yard dash with a ninety-pound pack; there wasn't an ATV available, and he'd been too worried to wait for a truck. "What happened?" He dropped to his knees beside Tony, eyed Gibbs' boot then said. "Ok. It's unlaced, so let's get it off." He carefully pulled the boot off while Gibbs bit his lip. "No blood, so that's a plus." The sock went next and, to everyone's relief, everything was more or less intact. "You didn't cut anything off. Looks like a hell of a bruise." Jimmy turned to see a horde of spectators. "Could we get some ice water, please?"

A man said, "I get a bucket. Right back."

Jimmy stood up and addressed the obviously concerned crowd. "He'll be ok. He missed a lick with an axe but didn't cut himself. He's just got a badly bruised foot. Everyone go back to enjoying yourselves. Thanks for your concern."

The crowd scattered, calling out good wishes, except for a couple of women, who stayed to make sure Jimmy got what was needed.

Their runner returned with a five-gallon bucket half full of water and ice. Gibbs immediately stuck his foot in it, hissing at the cold. Tony thanked the man, shaking his hand.

Jimmy eyed Gibbs then announced, "I'd like you to elevate that as soon as possible; above your heart would be good, but I'll settle for on a stool. I'll be back with an ice pack."

Dean asked, "Don't you have some of those chemical ones in your pack?"

"I do. But I'll save those for times where there's no ice. I'll make an ice pack with a gallon zip bag, find a stool, and be back in a bit." Jimmy trotted off, leaving Tony to deal with keeping Gibbs from taking his foot out of the ice water the second he turned his back. He shouted over his shoulder, "Give him some candy while I'm gone. Left front lower pocket."

Tony just squatted to find the requisite pills. He gave four to Gibbs, who obediently crunched him between his molars, grimacing. "Damn it. Water?"

Dean handed him some. "Here. Pure spring water from Colorado."

Gibbs eyed the bottle. "Reverse osmosis, right out of the public tap."

"Crush my illusions." Dean leaned over to look at Gibbs foot. It was purpling rather spectacularly, even with the ice. "Man, nasty. We're gonna have to carry you somehow."

Gibbs gave him an indignant glower. "I can walk."

"Yeah, like AJ an' Gremlin are gonna let you walk on that. Sure. Tell me another one." Dean's skeptical tone made Gibbs well aware that no one was going to let him walk.

He spent the next few minutes bitching about that and explaining that he was not letting anyone carry him anywhere. Tony finally called him a whiny little bitch and added ice to the bucket, making him yelp and try to pull his foot out. Cosmo promptly sat on his knee to prevent that. Gibbs smacked him between the shoulder blades, knocking him off. Since he landed flat on his face in the dirt, he got a tad pissed. Tony grabbed him before he could wrestle Gibbs.

They froze the second they heard Ma'mere demand, "An' just exactly what do you boys think you're doing?" She sounded like a cross between a lady DI and a third-grade teacher. When it looked like someone was actually going to speak she ordered, "Don't bother. I can see that you've all obviously lost your minds. You ..." she pointed to Gibbs. "Put your foot in that bucket and leave it until the Doc says otherwise. You ..." she pointed to Dean and Cosmo. "Go find a plank. Both y'all get!" They got. She finally pointed to Tony. "An' you make sure he doesn't do anything foolish. I'm gonna go back to my pies now." And with that she hurried off muttering, "An' if they've burned while I was straightening y'all out, I'm not gonna be happy. Idiots."

Gibbs mumbled to Tony, "Man, I hope they didn't burn. She'll have all our asses."

Tony agreed, then just stooped, dumped Gibbs belly down over his shoulder in a combat carry, and walked off.

Gibbs yelled, "Hey! What the fuck! Damn it, I can walk."

Tony took his life in his hands and swatted Gibbs on the butt. "Shut up, Jet. You'll scare the kiddies. And stop wiggling, or I'll drop you on your head." Gibbs quit squirming, but continued to protest. Wide-eyed looks from the rest of the pod soon shut him up completely. He didn't sulk all the way to the B Gibbses didn't sulk. Especially not Marine Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Tony carried Gibbs all the way to the B&B, followed by the pod, Jimmy, and several people who didn't believe that he'd make it half the 1500 yards. Francine came out to meet them with a worried expression. "He okay?"

Jimmy replied, "Yes, he just bruised the hell out of his foot. I don't want him on it for 48 hours, and elevated for 12. After cold packs for that length of time, we'll start heat packs to reduce the remaining bruising and aid in quick healing. He'll be up and about by the reunion."

Gibbs opened his mouth to say something, but found a hand over it. Cosmo actually ordered him. "Just do it. You scared the bejesus out of all of us. Deal."

Gibbs looked around at the obviously upset group and caved like wet tissue paper. "Well, shit. All right, all right. What do I do?"

Jimmy eyed Gibbs as if trying to assess the level of compliance he could expect. "Okay. First, we get you somewhere comfortable, where you won't miss out on much. Then we elevate and ice your foot."

Francine rushed into action. "Ami! Make up an ice pack for Mr. Gibbs' foot." She pointed at Dean. "You go round to the back. There's a lovely rocking chair on the back porch, bring it up, please." Then she poked Cosmo in the shoulder. "You get that wicker footstool from the back room on the left upstairs. Thanks." Dean and Cosmo scurried off to get things.

Gibbs found himself leaning rather heavily on Tony, who draped one arm around his back without comment. "Well, fuck. That took a bit more out of me than I expected. I really do need to sit down and get that foot up."

Tony just held on, commenting, "Hang in there. Guys'll be back soon."

And they were, both men showed up at almost the same time with chair and stool, while Ami popped out of the house with a huge ice bag, a blanket, and several old towels. "Here we are." She stumbled over her own feet she stopped so suddenly. "Oh, my goodness. Mr. Gibbs! What in the world did you do to yourself?"

Gibbs explained exactly what he'd done, while Tony and Jimmy got him settled in the chair with his foot on the blanket-padded footstool. Then Jimmy made sure the towel-wrapped ice bag was situated just so, then went back to his station, ordering, "And leave it."

Ami flopped down on the porch swing, while the rest took places around the porch. "That's a shame. But you'll be better in time for the Do."

Gibbs grumbled something rude under his breath then asked, "How did your test go?"

"It didn't. That fool Carmody got himself arrested up Big Easy way, so it's put off until tomorrow. An' that means I got to go in special." She shrugged. "But ... it also means I got more time to study, an' I'm gettin' special shoppin' done so no one has to make a special trip. So ..." she shrugged. "It's all good."

Gibbs thought for a bit then asked, "You need any help?"

"It's on Battles of the French Period." She didn't look too hopeful.

Tony snickered. "Now what did a certain person major in?" He twiddled his fingers on his chin for a moment. "Let me think…" he snapped his fingers. "Military History of the United States."

Ami squealed happily. "I'll be back in a sec." She dashed into the house, slamming the screen door on the way.

She returned quickly with her book, followed by Francine calling, "Don't slam the door!"

Dean looked at his watch, announced, "Man, time does fly. It's late. 1700 already."

Ami eyed him in disgust. "An' what time is that when it's real time?"

Dean shrugged. "Because it's so easy to tell whether you mean five in the morning or five at night. It's five pm, hon. If you need it in civilian, just subtract twelve. And there's no such thing as zero ten hundred, just so you know."

Ami thought about that for a moment then said, "Well, it does make sense in a military sort of way." She settled more comfortably in the swing and said, "We're going to be tested, multiple choice, on the last four chapters of the book. I got all the work sheets done, and my essay, and turned them in already. So ..."

Tony produced his tablet and said, "I got it. There's a whole page dedicated to old tests on the website." He handed the tablet to Gibbs. "Here. It's this section." He tapped, then swiped, highlighting the section.

Gibbs glared at it. "I can't read the damn thing without my glasses."

Tony flushed a bit. "Neither can I, Jet."

Cosmo took the tablet. "I got it. You two ol' men need help, I got your six."

There was a bit of growling from both Tony and Gibbs, but Ami's merry giggle shut them up. She cheerfully remarked that, "It's just that they're both farsighted. If you could get the thing five feet away, they'd be fine."

So, for the rest of the afternoon, Dean and Cosmo took turns asking random questions from the section. Gibbs and Tony discussed the answers with Ami while everyone else either contributed to the discussion or asked questions of their own.

Francine checked on them from time to time, supplying an unending stream of sweet tea, coffee, and water. They all started when Francine came to the door to call them in for supper.

Remy was at the table, finally returned from whatever he'd been doing. He grinned at Gibbs. "Hear ya had a discussion wit' a splittin' maul an' lost. You okay?"

Gibbs grumbled, "I'm fine. Just bruised all to hell; so's my foot."

Remy laughed gently. "Well. You'll be glad to hear that your surprise involves a whole lotta sittin'." And with that he took a serving of mashed potatoes, then passed the bowl, refusing to say anything else about the day.

Tony eyed Dean and Cosmo for a moment, then said softly, "Did not forget about mat time."

Dean whimpered miserably, but Cosmo started to stand up. Tony shook his head. "Didn't forget, but we'll forego it, this time."

They settled back with expressions of relief.

.