Two days off.

Time hadn't crawled that long in a while.

Gibbs had been calling Tony to check on him both days, but didn't offer to have a beer or cowboy style steak at his house.

Tony answered the calls, understanding that Gibbs would just worry if he didn't pick up. And would come over. And remind him of what they did together…and then not touch him. And he couldn't handle that right now.

As much as Gibbs wanted to get back to normal, Tony could easily see they were not. And he was left feeling unsatisfied with the talk they had on his bathroom floor.

But he understood. Gibbs had done the unthinkable. Lost control. He was human after all.

And now...they were both struggling to come to terms with it.

Tony knew Gibbs was sincere when he told him how much he meant to him….but the sting of opening himself up, literally, to Gibbs and then finding the book…

It hurt a lot. And on top of it…he wanted Gibbs …to touch him again…to kiss him…

"Not gonna' happen, DiNozzo," he sighed as he straightened his tie in the mirror.

He could only hope that at least they could be okay at work again…

He stared at his reflection for a moment, still on the cusp of hating the man he saw. The one who gave everything, and got used in return. It felt bad.

Stopit. Just go. That isn't going to accomplish a thing.

He quickly grabbed his keys, badge, and gun off his nightstand and left.

When Gibbs got in, he saw Tony was already there. Early. Again.

So much for back to normal.

He'd spent the last two days resisting the urge to go see Tony again, or invite him over. Everything was still too…raw.

He'd thrown the torn pieces of the book into his fireplace, watching them burn up and disappear into the flames. He thought it would make him feel better. It didn't.

Tony was on the phone, speaking in a low, soft voice. He flashed back to the dream about Tony calling him to meet in the elevator to have sex, and then realized he needed to get his mind going in another direction when his dick hardened under his desk. He took a deep breath, but it was hard seeing Tony now. Rememebering the way his skin felt. The way he tasted. The way his eyes glowed when he realized Gibbs had kissed him.

He tried to focus his eyes on his desk, but his keen hearing picked up a little of the conversation Tony was having .

"Mr. Pink, I understand that. I'm not…I'm not trying to ruin her career as a writer. I just want her to at least change the pen name."

There was a pause. "Yes…I read it."

And then, "That's none of your fucking business," he quipped hotly. "And that's precisely why I have a problem with this book. Can you see that, Mr. Pink? I can't have the people I work with asking me those kinds of questions, because it won't matter ultimately, if she told the truth or embellished on anything. The end result will be the same for me. It will impede my ability to do my job and cause me a great deal of personal harm. If you don't pull it and fix it, well, then I will sue both Kepler and Wendy."

Gibbs felt proud of Tony, for trying to go after the publishing house to stop the book.

He could see the tension form in Tony's shoulders, as he said, "Fine. Suit yourself," and then hung up, staring at the phone for a moment before looking over at Gibbs.

Gibbs raised a brow at him, and Tony just shook his head, sadly. He looked back at his desk, sighing heavily and bringing his fingers to his eyes to massage the tension from them.

McGee and Ziva came in, to a silent bull pen, surprised because Tony was there. He also didn't look up at them as they put their things down.

McGee ventured, "Good morning, Tony. You feeling any better?" Tim saw that his friend still had an unhealthy pallor to his face. And looked…drawn.

"Yes," Ziva said gently, "Gibbs said you were under some weather."

A small glimmer of confusion passed over his face. Oh right. He never came in the other day. And Gibbs wasn't likely to explain the truth of what happened, was he? Well, Tony probably wouldn't have either. So Tony smiled just a little, looking at her. "It's under the weather, Ziva. And, thanks. I'm fine." He looked from her to McGee, and then asked, "Simms paperwork?"

"All done," said McGee. "In your box for check."

"Ok Probie," Tony said, grabbing folders from both McGee and Ziva from his inbox. He had already filed his own report immediately after the incident, but it usually took ZIva and McGee a little more time to complete theirs, unless IA was up their asses.

McGee and Ziva passed distressed looks between each other.

Tony looked down and started to check the files. And didn't look up again for two hours, only occasionally marking a correction that they would need to make in the computer system and then print the finals again. Everything was digital and hard copy, per current protocols.

And that's the way the day went. Paperwork, some organizing, and a silent Tony, who almost never looked at Gibbs.

While Gibbs, occasionally looked at Tony, with an unreadable expression.

Ducky came up to the bullpen at one point, and thought better of approaching Gibbs about donating to a charity he was getting involved with, when he caught some of the strangeness that Ziva and McGee were trying to interpret. He took in Gibbs very tight expression, and Tony's silence. McGee gave Ducky a pained glance, and Ducky nodded quietly, and turned to go back downstairs.

Later that afternoon, Ducky called Gibbs down to autopsy, to discuss a new piece of equipment he wanted to requisition.

Gibbs quickly saw it was a ruse.

"Ah, Jethro," Ducky said pleasantly, as he walked in the doors.

"Duck," he said curtly.

It was quiet in autopsy. There were no bodies for once. And Gibbs felt guilty for the wish that they had a case, so he could focus on something else…besides Tony.

"Would you…please have a seat?" Ducky asked, motioning to his desk.

Gibbs already knew something was amiss. And chose to remain standing.

"What's up, Ducky?" he said, trying to cut to the chase.

Ducky sighed. "What is happening up there, with Anthony? I couldn't help but notice…he doesn't look well…and he certainly isn't his…loquacious self."

Gibbs snorted softly, but Ducky also caught the flash of stress in Gibbs' eyes.

"And you, my dear friend. Something…is amiss. I'd like to be of assistance, if I may."

Gibbs looked at Ducky, and his sincere demeanor softened Gibbs a bit. But how could he tell Ducky…what he'd done?

Instead he said. "I dunno what's going on with DiNozzo." He lied. He felt it was the right thing to do for Tony. " But…"

Ducky raised a brow, "yes?"

Gibbs paced a little.

He was trying to form the right words.

"Do you think people can…drastically change…later in life?"

Ducky looked at Gibbs for a moment, tilting his head, and then watched Gibbs pace some more.

"Well, yes, of course they can. For the better, or the worse," Ducky said. "I might be more helpful if you could be a bit more specific, Jethro."

Gibbs sighed and nodded. He stopped pacing, and looked at Ducky. "I mean…sexual…orientation. Do you think…someone can be…one way and then suddenly another?'

Both Ducky's brows went up. "Oh."

"Yeah," Gibbs said sourly. "Oh."

Ducky took a large breath in, and quickly recovered, not wanting to ask if Gibbs was talking about himself.

"I think life has a lot of grey area, and…one can find one's self in a new situation at any time. To me…it seems foolish to limit one's self to only one flavor of iced cream, as it were. Life is to be tasted! But we all have natural tendencies, surely, as to which sex we are attracted to. Most people know early on in life, where their leanings are." He stopped to take in Gibbs, who was still pacing a little, but slowing down, listening to him.

"However, my dear friend, as you very well know, life is not a paint by numbers, or play one can rehearse. Some people have feelings that they repress, long into adulthood, for fear of being rejected by those they love, if they were to…express such feelings. But as we get older…it can occur to us that we don't have to be so linear in our thinking, or be defined by what others may think. We can be attracted to a person, not a gender, specifically. And can find ourselves …in new territory. Which in my estimation, is an opportunity to grow…to learn. In essence…yes. I believe it is possible. Though how it comes about is surely not a fixed scenario."

Gibbs was still now. Lost in thought.

Is this about Tony? The ME thought. Or about Gibbs? Did one discover…something about the other, hence the uncomfortable silence? Ducky wanted to ask, but felt it would not be appropriate to push Gibbs for an answer, on such a delicate topic.

Gibbs finally looked up at Ducky, and without smiling, said "Thanks. Duck." And then turned and walked out, leaving the older man to shake his head a little, worried about the implications of Gibbs' question.

Abby showed up at Tony's desk about 16:00 hours. When Tony saw her coming towards him, he had to stop himself from panicking or flinching.

Before Gibbs had left his apartment the other day, he had fully explained how he came by the book, how he'd confiscated it from McGee before he read too much. But also that Abby…had read the whole thing. And was the one who pushed Gibbs to read it.

He understood Abby, probably as well as anyone could. That she had worried…and dug into it…roping the Probie in…and he thought he could handle and forgive that. Because, she was truly worried about him and loved him.

But now that he saw her…he felt hot anger slicing through his rational thoughts, burning him.

Niether she or McGee knew that he knew.

"Hi Tony!" she smiled brightly, and placed a daisy in a small black glitter skull vase on his desk.

He looked at it, and then back at her, trying to keep his cool.

"Hi Abbs," he said softly, as her expression changed a bit.

"You…look tired. Um…are you okay? Cos'…I wanted to see if you wanted to go out for a drink tonight."

"Tonight?" he echoed tiredly.

"Yep," she nodded, and smiled sweetly again. "But…if you're…too tired, or…not up to it, I understand. I just…thought we could spend some one on one time. Just you and me. Talk…"

He cocked his head, "About what Abbs?"

She looked a little guilty, as her eyes darted for a moment, "I dunno'…anything you want." She looked at him hopefully.

He wasn't sure if she meant to talk about the book. But Gibbs had explained why Abby felt the older man should be the one to discuss it with him. First. He got that. She just had no idea the repercussions of her meddling. She should have left it alone.

"No," he said, with a scowl, and then looked back at his computer screen.

She shifted on her feet a little, uncertain of what had just happened. He had never been like this with her. She was confused, and now suddenly worried she had done something wrong.

Something wrong…oh, no. He knew. Something had happened. Maybe Gibbs talked to him, she thought. And now…he was pissed off at her.

She swallowed and her eyes teared up a little. "The book," she breathed.

He looked up at her suddenly, and then quickly around, to see if any of the others were listening, but Gibbs was the only other team member in the bullpen, and he was on the phone.

Tony smiled at her, but it was tinged with anger, "Bingo," he said, low and soft.

She looked suddenly at a loss, not knowing what to do, and fumbled with her words. "Tony, I…I'm sorry…if you're upset. I…you looked….I just…was worried about you," her voice cracked a little at the end.

He looked down at his desk, and still didn't say anything.

"I was just trying to help…" she said, wringing her hands a little.

"Trying to help?" he asked, incredulously, eyes ablaze and now boring into her. "You have no idea what you did." He was shaking. He was furious with her. Almost as much as with Wendy. But with Abby it was mixed with guilt. With Abby, this was like kicking a puppy. With Wendy…like trying to avoid the bite of a poisonous snake.

Her bottom lip was trembling, "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm sorry," she said, and there was great distress in the tone. So much so that Gibbs finally looked up from his desk, and quickly tried to wind down his phone call.

Tony swallowd harshly, and suddenly felt the walls closing on him.

As Gibbs got up from his desk, glancing from Abby's face, now streaked with tears, and Tony's pale one, he growled, "What the Hell's going on ?"

Tony got up, almost stumbling out of his chair and quickly stepped out and around them, mumbling, "I need some air," and brushed against Gibbs as he exited the bullpen. He didn't look back at them as he strode quickly to the elevator.

Gibbs felt the electricity of that momentary brush against his shoulder, and the butterflies in his stomach that came from just that little contact with Tony.

But he shook it off, seeing Abby crying. Which he couldn't stand.

"Hey," he said, lifting her chin with his finger, as she started to actually hiccup now. 'What happened?'

"The…book," she choked, and sniffed. "I guess…you…t-talked to him…"

Gibbs averted her teary gaze for a moment, and then gently said, "He's…not to happy with either one of us right now. But…" he looked back at her, giving her a little smile of reassurance, "He'll come around, Abby. He knows you just care about him a lot." He enfolded her trembling form into his arms, wondering to himself if the words were for her, or for him.

That night, Abby was just prepping the cushions in the coffin to get to sleep. She sighed dejectedly. She hadn't seen Tony again after the little scene in the bullpen, and Gibbs hadn't been willing to fill her in on what had transpired between them.

She only knew that somehow, she'd let Tony down, even though she had meant well.

She wanted to cry again.

She wasn't sure if she could sleep.

And then someone was banging on her door, making her jump a little.

"ABS!" a voice called from the hallway outside her apartment.

It was Tony, She was excited and worried all at once. She ran to the door, and flung it open.

Immediately she could see he was wasted.

She didn't know what to say. But that didn't matter because he stumbled in past her, into the apartment with a "HeyyyyAbbs."

She watched him stumble into her living room, and flop onto the couch. She closed the door.

"Tony…." She asked, a little frightened. "Did you drive like this?"

He laughed, green eyes bloodshot, "Nawww…tookhhacab. Fromma…Mullll…Mulligan's."

She sighed with relief. But now was worried at the state he was in. "I'm gonna make you some coffee, Tonyboy," she said, calming herself.

But he grabbed her wrist, not too hard, to stop her. "Abby…M'sorrryyy…" his eyes started to mist up. "M'sorr…sorry." He stared at her face, in anguish.

She leaned down quickly, and threw her arms around him, awash in relief but hoping he'd remember the conversation. "Oh, Tony…I'm the one that's sorry…I love you so much. I love you. You're my big brother. And I was just trying to look out for you."

"I know," he breathed into her hair, tightening his embrace.

They stayed like that for a few minutes.

"You…smelllll, like…reallllygood."

She laughed. "I can't believe you can smell me over that alcohol." He reaked of liquor.

He let her go, and pushed her back, smiling like a madman, "Thatsss eau'd Gibbs….Bourbon. Hisss…fav…"

Suddenly his face changed.

She grabbed him, pulling him up , and they ran for her bathroom, making it just in time.

"Oh, Tony," she sighed, rubbing his back, as he retched into the bowl and groaned pathetically.