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Chapter 3

Tim took Tony's advice and was leaning back in his chair, ice pack placed carefully over his swollen eye. And just as Tony had predicted, several of the female agents and office staff had come by to check on him, oohing and aahing over his bruises. After 20 minutes, he sat up and began working on his report, noting with delight that he could actually see a little out of his left eye. As he was finishing, Gibbs came downstairs. Gripping McGee's chin, he again looked at the damage, "Swelling's down," Gibbs stated. "But you still look like crap. Did Ducky say you could stay?"

"Yeah," Tim replied, "as long as I ice my eye every 20 minutes or so. Oh, and I finished my report. It's on the printer." He started to get up but was stunned when Gibbs said, "I'll get it. So isn't it time for an ice pack? And where the hell is DiNozzo?"

"Here, Boss," Tony said, coming into the bullpen. "Sorry, got held up in Autopsy."

"Last time I checked your desk was up here not in Autopsy," Gibbs growled, hoping that Tony knew it was all for show. Ducky had informed him about Tony's headache but he knew that Tony would not want the others to find out.

"In your email, hard copy in your inbox," Tony replied as he sat down at his desk. "What?" he asked as Gibbs continued to stare at him.

"Ducky say you're good to go?"

"Desk duty today, back to full duty on Monday. I'm fine. Except for the fact that the paperwork appears to be multiplying every time I leave the room."

"Stay at your desk and that won't happen." Tony just shook his head and started plowing through the mounds of paper, hoping to at least make a dent in it before the end of the day. They all worked steadily until lunchtime when Abby came into the bullpen. "I think we all need to take Timmy out to lunch," she declared. "He deserves a celebration. Ducky and Jimmy are waiting in the garage so let's go."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Ziva said. "Come on, Tony, Gibbs – we do not want to keep Ducky and Jimmy waiting."

Gibbs stood up, expecting Tony to do the same. "You guys go ahead without me," Tony said. "I've got something I need to do. I'll make it up to you later, Probie. Promise." The truth was, while he did need to speak to Vance, Tony's headache was back with a vengeance (it had never really gone away) and the thought of food was making him feel a little sick. He didn't want to spoil McGee's celebration by puking all over the place. "Now go on. Like Ziva said, Ducky and the Gremlin are waiting."

Gibbs was concerned. He suspected that Tony wasn't feeling well but with Tony you could never tell. He decided to let it go, vowing to keep an eye on the younger man when they returned from lunch. He was so focused on Tony that he missed Abby whispering to Ziva, "See what I mean? He's so jealous he won't even go to lunch with us."

Ziva was still not convinced. "Tony does have a great deal of paperwork to complete. I am sure he just wants to have everything out of the way before the weekend. And I thought Tony was your friend – why are you talking about him like this?"

"Tony is my friend!" Abby hissed. "But I just get tired of him picking on Tim all the time. Tony needs to realize that Tim is not the timid little Probie that he used to be – he is a competent, qualified agent!"

"Abby, I know that you and Tim have a . . .a thing going on, yes? And because of that you may be a little protective of him. But I still think that you are wrong about Tony.

Noticing their conversation, Tim asked, "What are you guys whispering about? There's something wrong with Tony, isn't there? He was hurt worse that he let on and now. . ."

"Tim!" Abby interrupted. "Tony is fine. You are the one who was injured, not Tony. And you are the one who's getting the hero's lunch – now let's go!"

As soon as the others left, Tony called upstairs to find out if Vance had a few minutes to speak with him. After checking, his assistant told Tony that the director had a few minutes available right away. Tony quickly printed off the request he had just completed and picked it up from the printer on the way to the stairs. Entering Vance's office, Tony handed the paper to the director and had a seat.

"A commendation for McGee?" Vance asked. "That recommendation usually comes from the team lead not the second."

"Gibbs wasn't there. I was," answered Tony. "As I stated in my request and in my formal report, McGee put his own safety aside and kept that bastard from raping the girl. Yes, proper procedure would have been to wait for backup, but if he had waited it would have been too late for that girl."

"According to the reports, McGee could have been injured more severely if you hadn't intervened. The way I see it, McGee isn't the only one who deserves a commendation."

"No!" Tony almost shouted. "If I had been faster, he may not have been hurt at all. I don't need nor do I want a commendation." He paused. "If both of us get commendations, then his loses some of the meaning – it won't be special. He should be recognized for his work – he definitely went above and beyond."

Vance nodded. "Very well, Agent DiNozzo. But even though you won't be getting an official commendation, I still believe you deserve it. I will inform Agent McGee this afternoon and the official recognition will be at the next awards ceremony next month."

"Thank you, sir. And could you please not let anyone know that I'm the one who recommended him. Let everyone think that Gibbs did it."

"Very well. And by the way, that," – the director pointed to Tony's forehead – "looks like it hurts. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sir. Everybody knows I have a hard head. I have a little bit of a headache, but I plan on spending the weekend on the sofa to give myself plenty of time to rest and recover. I'll get out of your way now, sir. Thanks for taking the time to speak with me."

Tony stood and went back down the stairs. He figured he could finish the bulk of his paperwork while the others were at lunch. Then he could sneak back to Autopsy for more Tylenol and a short nap. Sitting at his desk, he put his plan into action.

TBC