GOLDEN CHILD

Thanks for all the lovely reviews and PM's! You guys are fantastic! Thanks for the encouragement. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Abby talked a lot. In fact, she talked even more when she was stressed out or extremely happy. It turned out that she was both stressed and extremely happy as she drove Tony to his apartment. She was anxious about the near-miss that he and McGee had had, but rapt that Gibbs had entrusted Tony to her care. She spoke incessantly as she drove. The only peace and quiet Tony got was when Abby ran in to her own apartment to grab some 'supplies'. Not that Tony minded. Abby's chatter was infinitely preferable to Gibbs' driving. The pain killers were now only having a residual effect, so he wasn't finding things quite so amusing, so Abby's description of the previous night's bowling tournament was a great distraction.

Plus, Abby was really good at looking after him without making him feel totally useless. Once they reached his apartment, she let him make his own way inside. She didn't keep giving him sideways glances to see if he was okay. She didn't talk to him like he was six years old.

At dinner, however, she fussed over him a bit, but he was grateful, because by then it was sinking in that accomplishing ordinary tasks with one hand totally plastered was going to be extremely difficult, if not impossible. The meal was a simple pasta dish, but even bringing the fork in his left hand to his mouth required concentration and effort. Eventually Abby reached over and cut the spaghetti up and passed him a spoon, all without interrupting her story about how she had resorted to giving the mass spectrometer a talking-to that morning. God he loved Abby!

Stomachs full, they finally leaned back in their chairs and there was suddenly a moment of silence. Abby looked at him pointedly and indicated his hand.

'Okay, mister,' she said. 'Tell me what you're thinking about that.'

Tony smiled and held his injured hand out over the table.

'Oh, I'm thinking I could offer to smash open the walnuts Ziva likes to bring into work,' he said. 'It'll also probably work far better than any of my usual lines with the women at the bar.'

'Cut the crap,' said Abby, crossing her arms over her chest, her words causing Tony to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

'Hey, I didn't know you could channel Gibbs,' he told her. 'Do it again.'

'I'm serious, Tony,' said Abby. 'You don't fool me with the comedy routine. Talk to me.'

Tony put his hand back down on the table and sighed.

'Vance already has it in for me,' he told her. 'This is just gonna make things worse. I know Gibbs said I did good, but Vance isn't gonna see it that way. He'll just decide that I'm even more useless than usual.'

'Don't worry about the director,' Abby told him. 'When you were on the Reagan, he had a really good opportunity to get you permanently assigned there, but Gibbs stood right up to him. He kept at him until he could bring you back. And face it, if Vance didn't think you were a top agent, he'd have sent you away again. Even if you had two broken hands, a broken leg and a gunshot wound, you'd still be a better agent than a lot of guys he has on the other teams.'

Tony didn't agree with it, but he had to smile at Abby's fierce appraisal of him. If Abby ever went head to head with Vance over anything, Tony's money would be on her.

'Just do what Ducky and the doctor says,' said Abby, 'and you'll be good as new. Now, DVD time! Your choice, totally.'

By the time the credits for the Maltese Falcon were rolling, Tony could no longer stifle a series of massive yawns.

'Bed for you,' said Abby as he flicked off the plasma.

'Oh, you're getting no argument from me,' said Tony, standing up and stretching. After a quick visit to the toilet, he emerged to find toothpaste on his brush and pills and a glass by the sink. Smiling he cleaned his teeth and took one of the pills. As much as he hated taking them, his hand was starting to throb and he really didn't want to be tossing and turning all night. Thankfully he was still in the gym clothes he had put on that morning, so there was no real need to change. He didn't have the energy to do so anyway. Once he had settled himself gratefully into his bed, Abby re-appeared in her skull and crossbones pyjamas. She climbed up onto the bed and perched on top of the covers.

'Comfy?' she asked him.

'Mmm,' he murmured. 'Great pasta, drugs and a beautiful girl in my bedroom. What more could a guy want?'

Abby reached over and ran her hand gently over the side of his face. It was not lost on her that he had nearly died early that day.

Tony closed his eyes and Abby thought he had fallen asleep when suddenly his eyes flew open again.

'Maybe I should call McGee,' he told Abby, concern evident in his eyes. 'He'd be pretty freaked out, and that Reed maniac is still out there.'

'Gibbs put a watch on his apartment,' Abby told him, soothingly. 'Don't worry about McGee. He's probably on line in the middle of some epic game right now.'

The combined effect of Abby's words, fatigue and the drugs caused Tony to relax, and within seconds he was drifting off to sleep.

'Thanks…. For looking after me,' he murmured softly as sleep claimed him.

Abby answered by softly kissing him on the forehead and pulling the blankets up higher, before turning off the lamp and heading off to the guest room.

…………………………………………………………

The sound of his front door opening then closing brought Tony out of a deep sleep. Turning his head, he noted the time on his bedside clock was 8.00am. He assumed Abby had left, something he realized he had mixed feelings about. On the one hand, her not being there meant that he didn't have to pretend to be more upbeat than he felt. On the other hand, he was going to miss the TLC she had delivered the evening before. Sighing, he tested his right arm by moving it slightly. The pain had reduced to a dull ache, which meant that he was unlikely to have to suffer the painkillers that day. It was small mercy, but Tony would take it. In fact, there was no reason why he couldn't spend the rest of the day in bed or downstairs on the couch watching movies. Despite what Abby would have him believe, he wasn't much use as an NCIS agent in his current condition.

Suddenly, as if in response to his plans, Tony's keen ears heard the gentle thud of feet along his hallway. Perhaps Abby had not left after all. Next, the bedroom door was opened to reveal someone who was definitely not Abby.

'Boss?' said Tony, propping himself up on his left elbow, not quite believing his eyes. 'What are you doing here?'

Gibbs, satisfied that Tony was awake and as lucid as he ever expected him to be, strode across the bedroom and briskly opened the curtains. Turning back to the bed, Gibbs noticed that Tony was a much healthier color than he had been the previous day. Encouraged, he drew an item from his pocket that looked like an elongated shower-cap. Tony looked quizzically at his boss.

'It's to cover your hand while you shower,' Gibbs explained. 'Courtesy of Ducky.'

'What's the rush?' asked Tony. He certainly had no immediate plans beyond taking up residence in front of the plasma.

'You're due in court,' said Gibbs. 'Three cases, remember? You're the NCIS rep for the day.'

'Yeah, but isn't someone else going?' asked Tony. 'I'm kind of out of action here,' he added, raising his hand above the blankets.

'You can still speak,' said Gibbs, gruffly. 'Don't need your hands to talk.' Tony was on the verge of telling Gibbs that cutting off an Italian's hands was like cutting out his tongue, but he thought better of it.

'Feel okay?' Gibbs asked next, throwing Tony with the sudden change of topic. Tony knew that Gibbs had faith in him to get the job done in court. He knew that Gibbs had gone out of his way to come to his place to make sure he didn't spend the day wallowing in self pity. The 'incident' the day before had left Gibbs' team one man short. Tony didn't want to let the man down any further.

'Yeah, I'm good,' Tony said, throwing back the blankets. Standing up a bit too quickly, Tony felt Gibbs steadying hand grip his elbow as he started to sway.

'You okay to get in the shower?' Gibbs asked.

'Yes!' said Tony, quickly, horrified at the idea of Gibbs helping him with that. 'Where's Abby, anyway?'

'At work. Why?' asked Gibbs, his eyes narrowing. Would Tony have accepted help with showering from Abby?

'Nothing,' said Tony as he stalked off to the bathroom, plastic cover in hand. 'Just curious. I'll be out in ten.'

As he made his way back to Tony's kitchen, Gibbs wondered whether he should be worried about Rule 12 being broken by Abby and Tony. The black love-hearts drawn on Tony's plaster cast had not gone unnoticed by him.

Half an hour and two cups of coffee later, Tony made his appearance in the living room in suit pants and an unbuttoned shirt. He carried his shoes, tie and socks in his left hand. The whole 'dressing' business with one hand had proved to be a lot tougher than he had anticipated.

'Put them down,' said Gibbs, indicating the items Tony held. That done, Gibbs began buttoning Tony's shirt without batting an eyelid, as if he had done it for Tony every day of his life. Tony managed to feel uncomfortable and touched at the same time. He wondered what he'd done in life to deserve a boss like Gibbs. His mind turning to the workplace, an unpleasant thought occurred to him.

'What about Vance?' Tony suddenly asked. Gibbs, in such close proximity to his number one, could feel Tony's trepidation as he asked the question.

'What about him?' Gibbs asked as he moved on to Tony's tie.

'He can't be happy about this,' said Tony, holding up his right hand. He's never happy with me under normal circumstances, thought Tony.

Gibbs thought back to the conversation he'd had with Vance the evening before. Vance had called Gibbs to his office, demanding to know why the local LEO's were complaining about apprehension of evidence by NCIS at a crime scene. Gibbs had defended his actions and stood firm that attempted robbery and assault of NCIS agents was NCIS business. He had glossed over the finer details, knowing that Vance would jump on any opportunity to condemn Tony's actions. But Tony didn't need to know all that.

'I'll handle Vance,' Gibbs told him as he neatened the knot and straightened the tie. Tony nodded his head, appreciative that Gibbs was looking out for him.

'Sit,' said Gibbs, as he picked up the shoes and socks.

'Boss. McGee,' said Tony as he sat down, trying not to be mortified about Gibbs helping him into socks and shoes.

'What about him?' said Gibbs again.

'Don't be too hard on him,' said Tony, looking down at the top of Gibbs' head.

'He should have handed over the damn keys straight away,' muttered Gibbs.

'And then he'd be dead,' argued Tony, shuddering at the description Abby had given of the killer.

'Most times a thief isn't gonna blow your head off,' said Gibbs. 'McGee shouldn't have hesitated. You hesitate one moment in the field, you're dead, or your partner's dead.'

'Boss, we weren't in the field,' said Tony. 'We were at a gym.'

'You're federal agents, Dinozzo,' said Gibbs, standing up. 'You're ALWAYS on duty.'

Gibbs looked down at Tony for a few moments, waiting for his words to sink in. He knew Tony had always taken a protective stance where McGee was concerned, but the younger agent wasn't green anymore. He had to take responsibility for his own conduct. McGee had made it clear that he wasn't above pointing out Tony's errors of judgment. It was only fair, and necessary, that McGee took responsibility for his own mistakes.

'Come on,' Gibbs finally told his number one agent. 'Judge McNeill hates to be kept waiting.