Saturday, 1123, NCIS Headquarters

Jimmy Palmer walked onto the main floor of NCIS reasonably sure that he had done as Agent Gibbs had asked. How Tim could be an NCIS Special Agent and a best-selling author and still be so naive about some things boggled the mind. Tim had already returned to work. Michelle had caught Jimmy's eye on his way past, and he had told Tim to go on without him. Michelle hadn't had work on her mind, but when he told her the bare minimum about Tony's situation, she had understood his need to check in with Agent Gibbs.

Unfortunately, the director was standing by Agent Gibbs' desk, and they were having some kind of heated conversation. Jimmy decided to go on by, pretending to be deaf, and see if he could catch Gibbs later. As he passed, the director was saying, ". . . but I need my medical examiner."

Jimmy was expecting Gibbs to growl a surly negative and for the conversation to get even more intense, but Agent Gibbs said, "Okay." His voice was calm and unusually docile. Jimmy turned right towards the elevators, wondering what game he was playing at.

"Jethro, I –" The director paused. "Did you say, 'okay'?" she asked suspiciously.

"Palmer!" Gibbs barked, and Jimmy turned, heart beating quickly. "Quit pretending not to listen and get over here," Gibbs added. Jimmy hurried back to Agent Gibbs' desk, but Gibbs turned to Director Shepard. "Yes, Director, I said, 'okay,' on one condition."

Director Shepard stood up straight, crossing her arms and looking at Agent Gibbs through narrowed eyes. "What condition?" she asked. Jimmy sincerely wondered why he needed to be present for this. He glanced at McGee, who gave him a sympathetic grimace.

"You can have your medical examiner back . . . if I can have his assistant."

Director Shepard gave Jimmy a startled look and shrugged. "Done. You'll have to negotiate with Ducky on the loss of his assistant, though," she said.

"I don't think he'll mind," Gibbs replied. The director shrugged again and walked away towards the stairs. "Palmer, I want you to go to Bethesda and relieve Ducky. While you're there, I'd like you to talk to DiNozzo."

"Talk to him?" Jimmy repeated, not altogether sure what Gibbs had in mind.

"Yes, Palmer, talk to him. He's clearly willing to confide in you to some degree." Jimmy tried to figure out how to disabuse Agent Gibbs of this misconception, but the senior agent wasn't done. "Encourage that and get anything out of him that you can."

Jimmy moistened his lips nervously. "Um, sir – I mean, Agent Gibbs, I'll try, but . . . I won't betray Tony's trust."

"Good," Gibbs snapped, standing up. Jimmy took a step back. "Now go get me the information I need to keep him safe."

"Uh . . . right," Jimmy said, and he hurried out. He pondered his dilemma all the way to Bethesda but didn't find any answers. How could he encourage Tony to confide in him while planning to tell Gibbs everything he said? It was dishonest, and Tony would never trust him again. But Gibbs wasn't wrong, they needed to know everything about what had happened to keep Tony safe. Why hadn't Tony told Gibbs everything, anyway?

He parked and got directions to Tony's room. There was a waiting room across from the elevator bank, and Jimmy saw a woman who looked startlingly familiar, but what could Jeanne Benoit have to do with this situation? Tony's room was just down the hall. Opening the door, he stepped inside to find Dr. Mallard sitting alone. "Where's Tony?" he asked.

Dr. Mallard looked up, startled. "Mr. Palmer! I wasn't expecting you. Tony's in the . . ." He gestured in the direction of the bathroom, and Jimmy nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"Actually, Agent Gibbs sent me to relieve you," Jimmy said.

"Did he, dear boy?" Dr. Mallard asked. "I'm perfectly happy to stay with Anthony."

"Yes, well, Director Shepard wants you back."

The door to the bathroom opened and Tony emerged. He saw Jimmy and stopped dead. "Don't even say it," he said immediately. "I don't want to hear it."

"I wasn't going to say it, Tony," Jimmy said. "I wouldn't do that."

"Say what?" Ducky asked.

"I told you so," Tony muttered. "But he did. He did tell me so. You should say it, Jimmy. It's true."

"What did he tell you?"

"Tell him, Palmer," Tony ordered.

Jimmy shrugged uncomfortably. "I told him that I thought his boyfriend was bad news."

"He was not my boyfriend," Tony snarled.

"He seemed to think he was," Jimmy replied, and Tony straightened, flushing. "Um . . . I need to talk to Dr. Mallard. You mind if I take him outside for a minute?"

"I'd be fine if you both just went back to work," Tony said. "No offense."

"You keep saying that, Anthony," Dr. Mallard said dryly. "Eventually, I'm going to take what I'm offered."

Tony's eyes got really wide. "Ducky, I . . ."

Dr. Mallard's expression softened. "Lie down, Anthony. I do understand. We'll be back in a moment." Jimmy followed his boss outside. "Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Palmer?"

"I need some advice," Jimmy said.

"All right."

"Agent Gibbs thinks I can get Tony to confide in me."

"And?"

"And he wants me to encourage his confidences, then tell him everything Tony tells me."

"Ah." Dr. Mallard sighed. "Well, in this case you have to weigh the good against the bad. Tony is not being forthcoming about what has happened to him, but he has apparently already included you in his secret."

"Only because I ran into him and his . . . his not boyfriend . . . at a bar. Twice."

"The same bar?"

"No, two different ones. Sports bars. But it's not like I'm a chosen confidante. He just . . . he had to tell me."

"Well, do your best."

"What about weighing the good with the bad?"

Dr. Mallard shrugged. "Weigh Tony's safety against your own scruples. Which is more important to you in the long run?"

Jimmy knit his brows. "Wh . . . why didn't you just tell me to find out everything I can from Tony and tell Gibbs?"

Dr. Mallard put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "Because this way you understand the choice you have to make."

"Have you ever had to make this kind of choice for . . . anyone?" He'd been about to say Gibbs, but chickened out at the last minute. No one but Tony and Jimmy knew the role Jimmy had filled during Gibbs' absence in Mexico.

"Oh, yes," Dr. Mallard said.

"And has . . . anyone . . . forgiven you?"

"I believe so," Dr. Mallard replied with a smile. "He still buys me dinner."

Jimmy sighed. "Is . . . this may seem like a weird question, but is Dr. Benoit here?"

"Why would that seem like a weird question, Jimmy?"

"Because . . ." Jimmy shook his head. Obviously Dr. Mallard knew she was here. "I don't understand why she's here."

"Didn't Gibbs tell you?" Jimmy shrugged. Dr. Mallard closed his eyes and shook his head. "She witnessed the last attack and called Gibbs."

Jimmy's eyes widened. "Oh. Wow. Awkward."

"Very," Dr. Mallard said with feeling. "Well, if the director wants me back at NCIS, I shouldn't keep her waiting." He went back into the room with Tony and Jimmy followed. "Anthony, I must go, but Mr. Palmer is here to take my place." He walked over to Tony and put a hand on his shoulder. "Do give him back to me in one piece."

"I wouldn't break the autopsy gremlin, Ducky," Tony said, and Jimmy rolled his eyes.

Ducky gathered up his stuff and left, and Jimmy sat down in the vacated chair, dumping his bag down on the floor with an audible thump.

"What are you carrying in that, Jimmy, bricks?"

Jimmy glanced down at the lumpy thing and shrugged. "School books."

"How's the semester going?"

"Not bad." Jimmy leaned closer and peered at Tony's neck. Tony shifted and looked away, avoiding his eyes and trying unsuccessfully to conceal the fading marks. Jimmy studied Tony for several seconds. When they'd talked a couple months back about this whole relationship, Tony hadn't come across quite like this. He definitely hadn't wanted anyone to know he was seeing a guy, but right now Jimmy saw something else in his demeanor. He couldn't quite place it. He cleared his throat. "When did you and Brody break up?"

Tony turned towards him. "We didn't break up. We didn't have that kind of relationship. I ended . . . I told him to go away."

"When?"

"About six weeks ago."

"So that bite on your neck –"

"Was after that, yes," Tony said. "What, did Gibbs send you here to weasel information out of me?" It was a little too close for comfort. Jimmy flushed and shrugged. "He did?" Tony stared at him. "What makes him think I'd tell you something I wouldn't tell him?"

"The fact that I already knew about Brody," Jimmy said, and Tony's eyes widened with alarm. "I tried to tell him it was an accident, but I don't think that will matter to him."

"Couldn't you have pretended not to know?" Tony asked.

"What, you mean like you just pretended with Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy replied. Tony sighed and looked away. "So, why haven't you told Gibbs what's been going on?"

"It doesn't matter," Tony said irritably. "Nothing Gibbs can do will help, it will only make things worse."

"Right, because having a patch on the back of your head shaved so you can have stitches is fun." Tony reached up self-consciously to his head, but stopped himself before he actually touched the bandage. Jimmy shook his head. "Tony, you're being an idiot."

"You have no idea what this feels like, Jimmy," Tony said angrily.

"Do you know what this feels like?" Jimmy asked, gesturing towards himself, and Tony's brows knit like he couldn't figure out what Jimmy meant. Jimmy glowered at him. "Two months ago, I run into you and some guy at a bar. I can tell the guy is a disaster waiting to happen, but you won't even talk to me about him. All you do is beg me to keep it in confidence, so I can't even ask anyone's advice. Now the disaster's happened, people are annoyed with me for not saying anything, and you're still refusing to talk about it."

Tony glowered at him. "Yes, well, being a trained federal agent who works out regularly with a marine and a Mossad-trained assassin makes my complete inability to even hold my own with this guy a little bit humiliating."

"He's way bigger than you, Tony."

"Size isn't everything, Palmer," Tony snapped. "Ziva is not exactly gigantic, but she can wipe the floor with me."

"But Brody's a cop. Doesn't that mean he has a lot of the same training as you?"

"Your point?"

"Unless you're actually trying to kill or seriously injure him, there's only so much you can do, right? Since neither of you actually wants to break bones, he's got the advantage because he's stronger and has the reach of you."

Tony shook his head. "Whatever."

Jimmy grimaced. "Regardless, don't you think you should tell someone what happened?"

Tony turned away and flipped the TV on. "I think we should find a good movie to watch."

Rolling his eyes, Jimmy stood up and manually pressed the power button on the set, then held his hand over the sensor to prevent the remote from working. "Avoidance. Great solution."

"It's the only one I got," Tony said, and for the first time, his eyes met Jimmy's. "I can't talk about this. I really can't. Not without a beer and . . . and I don't know what. A beer at minimum."

Jimmy sighed. Gibbs wouldn't be happy, but he lowered his hand and let Tony find something to watch. He could sit with him, and he could listen, but he couldn't make Tony talk. Especially not if Gibbs couldn't. Jimmy dragged out one of his books and started studying. Biochemistry looked fun.

A couple of hours passed. Jimmy had noted down which shows Tony had watched and which ones he'd shied away from, on the off chance that might tell them something. No cops and robbers, no CSI type shows, but Jimmy had stopped watching them himself. It was a little too frustrating when they did things that weren't physically possible and then missed obvious stuff that anyone should catch. Actually, Tony seemed to be drawn mostly to sports or really old stuff right now.

The door opened and a man came in. He was wearing a suit and a trench coat, and a really nice pair of Gucci shoes. He didn't look like a doctor, and Jimmy expected him to walk right out again. Tony looked up and shifted uncomfortably, clearly not wanting to be seen by strangers in his current condition.

"Can I help you?" Jimmy asked, knitting his brows.

The man paid him no attention at all, his attention focused on Tony. "Agent Anthony DiNozzo?" he asked.

"That's me," Tony said dubiously. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm Agent Ashley Preston, CIA," the man said. He glanced at Jimmy dismissively. "May I speak to you alone?"

Tony blinked at him and muted the TV. "What's this about?"

"I really can't discuss it in front of uncleared persons," Preston said.

Tony turned to Jimmy. "It's okay. Go grab yourself something to eat, and maybe get me some coffee?"

"Sure, Tony," Jimmy said, but he wasn't at all comfortable. Why would this guy be approaching Tony in the hospital? He put his book back into his bag and left the room. Pursing his lips, he dug out his phone and went down the hall to the waiting room. "Dr. Benoit?" he said to the woman who sat there. She looked up, startled. Her eyes had bags under then, and she looked both tired and worried. "I work with Tony. I need to make a call, so could you watch my stuff for a minute?"

"Sure," she said, her brows knit. "What's your name?"

"Jimmy Palmer. I work with Dr. Mallard."

"Oh, I see," she said, nodding. "Of course."

Jimmy smiled at her abstractedly, then went downstairs and outside to make his call. He didn't have Agent Gibbs' cell number, so he dialed Dr. Mallard's instead.

"Jimmy, how can I help you? Ought you to be making a call on your cellular from inside the hospital?"

"I'm not inside, doctor," Jimmy said. "I need Agent Gibbs' number."

"You left Anthony alone?" Dr. Mallard asked, sounding alarmed.

"No, that's the problem. I need to talk to Agent Gibbs."

"What?" demanded a very irritable-sounding voice, and Jimmy realized that Gibbs must have been in Autopsy, or perhaps Dr. Mallard was up in the squad room – either way, they were together. "Why did you leave DiNozzo's room?"

"Tony told me to. A man, a CIA agent named –"

"Ashley Preston," Gibbs finished for him. "You left him alone with that bastard?"

"I didn't know I –"

"Damn it, Palmer! Get back in there now and throw him out!"

"Yes, sir, Agent Gibbs, sir," Jimmy said. He hung up and hurried back inside.

Saturday, 1514, Bethesda Naval Medical Center

Tony looked up at Agent Ashley Preston and raised his eyebrows. "What's up?"

"Are you familiar with the name Eliseo Vargas?" Preston asked. Tony shook his head. "Well, he's involved in drug and arms trafficking, and his cartel may have started purchasing from Taliban-sponsored poppy growers in Afghanistan."

"Okay," Tony said. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Detective Brody Harris has a connection to Vargas, we don't understand why, but he does, and we've been attempting to use this connection to get more information about Vargas' operations."

"Brody is a clean cop!" Tony protested. What was with the CIA joining in on the Brody bashing? No, he didn't seem to be able to take no for an answer, but that didn't make him a drug dealer or anything else.

"I'm not saying otherwise. The connection, however, exists. There have been a series of gifts from Vargas to Harris, some of which Harris has accepted, others of which he declined, and he made a trip to Brazil in 1999. That's not the point, however."

"What's the point, then?"

"Harris is self-destructing right in front of us, and with him goes our one lead on Vargas."

Tony blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"We need you to resume your relationship with Harris," Preston said, and Tony felt his stomach flop over queasily at the very idea of resuming anything with Brody. He stared at the CIA agent, incapable of speech. "Not permanently of course," Preston added, "but at least for a while, so we can –"

The door slammed open and Jimmy came in. "I'm sorry," he said in a would-be brave voice. "You have to leave, Agent Preston."

"Jimmy?" Tony asked, startled.

"You should not be in here," Preston said, glaring at Palmer.

"Actually, I've been assigned to be here," Palmer said, holding up under the glare. "You shouldn't be here."

"According to whom?"

"According to Agent Gibbs."

Ella, this shift's nurse, walked in. "Excuse me, gentlemen, what seems to be going on in here?" Jimmy and Preston each pointed at the other and both spoke, but Tony found both statements incomprehensible. Apparently so did Ella. "Everybody out," she announced, and she had her way even with Preston flashing his badge around and Jimmy protesting that he was supposed to stay with Tony. After a few moments, the door shut on silence.

Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Preston's allegation of a connection between Brody and some drug lord had to be crap, but Tony's initial impression that this was some weird attempt at discrediting Brody – like that would change Tony's mind about something – was a bust. Gibbs didn't want him here, and . . . Tony shook his head. The CIA wanted Tony to get back together with Brody? Not that they had ever been 'together' in the strictest sense. Purely friendship with some physical release. Whatever Preston might think, whatever Brody might think, there was no 'relationship' to resume.

Why was the whole world interested in his sex life suddenly?

He had to get out of here. He got out of bed and started rummaging in closets and cupboards, looking for his clothes. His head ached, but then so did most of the rest of him. He ignored it all and kept searching.