A/N: Holy crap! you guys are awesome and the response I got was completely unexpected. Thank you to all of you for your alerts, reviews, and favourites. To the anon reviewers that I can't reply to personally, thank you for your votes of confidence and your kind words.

As for this chapter we have a few questions answered, some more getting asked and I hope you will let me know what you think.

Chapter 2: Back-Tracking

Three months earlier:

Tony strolled into the bullpen smack bang on 0700. He was sure he would have been the last one to arrive only to find that the only other person in the vicinity was Gibbs. He was staring at the plasma which showed the morning news. It was Friday and Tony was off to Vegas and no one, not even Gibbs, was going to stop him. He was going to embark on his usual yearly pilgrimage at the end of the day where he would be accompanied by a few college buddies, all of them looking to lose their money and get wasted during a week of debauchery and sin.

Putting his gun, his badge and his keys into the top draw of his desk, Tony walked around to stand behind Gibbs who had yet to acknowledge that the Senior Field Agent had got to work. The newscaster was talking about an escaped prisoner that after a week, no one had any new information. The search was getting desperate for former Marine, Jeremy James Playford.

"The prisoner is highly trained and highly capable of using any weaponry available to him."

"HEY! Slacks' on the telly, Boss!"

Tony's grin was met by an unimpressed glare. As his arms were folded, Tony gave Gibbs a gentle shove with his elbow, to back the motion of addressing that FBI agent Sacks, Fornell's underling in the FBI chain, was on the morning news. The statement was ignored as Gibbs took in the picture that had been displayed on the screen.

"The latest information we have received on Playford was that he was seen driving away from the prison in Warden Richard Tomlin's Blue GMV sedan. He was spotted on west bound cameras on the Anacostia and was lost in the traffic of Washington."

"Any person who comes into contact with Playford is not to approach him as he is deemed dangerous and a high threat to any civilian."

A phone number of where people could call was displayed across the bottom of the screen. Tony knew that the FBI obviously had no more leads and were relying on the public eye to try and locate the dangerous man. The image of Playford was again displayed on the screen. His hair was scruffy, short and unkempt. He was clean shaven, showing the square set of his jaw line. His eyes were slightly too wide apart and his nose was wide and flat. He was Caucasian, about six foot four, extremely fit and was last seen in prison orange.

Gibbs hadn't looked away from the screen and behind Tony, his other team mates, Ziva and Tim had arrived and stood with their back packs still slung across their shoulders. As the news reader trailed away onto other news concerning three missing people, Gibbs turned to his team, finally regarding that they had arrived and, for once were on time.

Looking at his team, Gibbs saw them looking back at the television. When Gibbs stood, his face entering their lines of sight, Tony, Tim and Ziva looked panicked all of a sudden. They went back to their desks and started typing up the work for the case they had been working the last fortnight. A missing petty officer was abducted from her parents home in Maryland, no clue and no note as to who took her or why. The last lead they had was that her ex-boyfriend was devastated that she had broken it off because she had found someone else. It had turned out that he had an air tight alibi for the night she had gone missing.

Gibbs grinned slightly, mainly because of the power he still held over his team. Turning back towards the plasma, Gibbs became engulfed by memories, his smile disappearing.

The year was 1999. Gibbs had been leading his team for close to two years, Mike having disappeared down Mexico way. There had been no word from the former Special Agent. Gibbs didn't mind. He loved the job and what it entailed. Mike had obviously had enough. Gibbs thrived on the act of being responsible for bringing people to their just desserts. He also thrived on the safety and commitment from his team. He had been referred his current two members, both on high recommendations from higher places. Gibbs took it all in his stride, willing to please and aiming to achieve.

The FBI had been working the case of four missing girls in the vicinity of Fort Mahan Park. All of the young women were aged between eighteen and twenty-four. It wasn't until the third victim had gone missing that a pattern was discernible amongst the victims. They all had a head wound, but it had not been the cause of death. Ducky had said that the gashes across their backs had been the evidence of a week or so of torture. The most disturbing bit about the whole scenario was that all the girls had been killed with such precision that it was hard to consider them murders. All of the victims appeared to have taken their own lives.

NCIS had been called in once the FBI had found no other leads except for that of a Navy suspect. FBI Agent Tobias Fornell had enlisted the help after much deliberation and pride swallowing. Gibbs and Fornell had crossed each others paths on occasion but had never been required to work together. The discovery of the Marine had meant trying to find information was made harder due to the fact they couldn't access NCIS' files. They had no choice but to cooperate with the bottom end of the food chain.

Fornell's cocky attitude irked Gibbs, so much so that Gibbs had made a point to close this one, proving that the FBI were nothing but fielding backs, while Gibbs and his team were the quarterback. This one was going to be airtight. Whoever did this was not going to get away. It all was going to be done the Gibbs way, by the book and no FBI wannabe was going to stop that from happening.

Fornell just wanted it over with so that he could get away from the jock demeanor of NCIS. Blackadder was alright but, after all, she had only just recently defected across from the FBI. Fornell liked her. She had spunk. She was still a little green about the gills but all in all she seemed to be a good agent.

John Cameron had a few more years under his belt than Blackadder. He had been transferred over by Director Morrow himself. Morrow's recommendation was that Gibbs was to take the young agent under his wing and show him all there is to know about being an NCIS agent. Cameron's knowledge and contacts were expansive, ranging from the Assistant Director of the CIA to the head parliamentary aid of the Prime Minister of England. This made him a valuable asset, even if he were Director Morrow's nephew. Gibbs didn't have time for pussy footing around so he just showed the ropes to the young agent and prayed that he was quick enough to understand them without hesitation.

Tony watched as Gibbs still stared at the plasma, worry etched between the lines across his forehead. To the outside observer, Gibbs was taking in every detail to keep a look out for the guy. Tony knew better. There was something hidden in the face of the man that was the closest thing he had to a Dad. There was so much mutual respect between the two men that often a glance and an unspoken sentence sounded volumes of praise and confidence. It also entailed the other to know when the slightest bit of annoyance or worry was illustrated in a distant look. This was one of those steely masks that Tony had come to know and more often than not, the feeling for that particular look did not bode well, for anyone. Gibbs always seemed confident, always self-assured but only an investigator with nine years backing up this particular man would know when it was a time to worry that Gibbs was right and which times to take with a grain of salt.

This, unfortunately, was one of the times to take seriously and also when you hoped that Gibbs was wrong.

Gibbs was not wrong very often.

Watching the Lead Agent across the bullpen, Tony sat back down in his chair, attempting to ignore the little voice in his head saying that Gibbs knew something that the Italian didn't. Ziva and Tim had failed to note the intensity between the two men, Tony worrying what was going to go wrong while he was away, Gibbs wondering if letting Tony go was such a good idea. Both men knew that something was going down. The problem was that neither would be close to the other for a week. Tony and Gibbs both suddenly felt a sense of dread as that thought came into fruition. They both suddenly didn't want the younger man to go away for a week. Tony could not imagine anyone else watching his six, Gibbs couldn't help but think this trip was not going to go as planned. Gibbs had always been there in some way, shape or form to back Tony up. He never doubted the ability or the respect that they both held each other in but somehow dread was starting to invade that space of quiet confidence and comfort.

Getting back to his work, Tony hoped that the rest of the day would be quiet, although with a bit more of a hesitation than he had previously when he walked into the squad room. The team worked quietly and diligently, two of the four hoping that the callout line would remain quiet for the rest of the day. Tony was almost praying for a case, Gibbs likewise. If they got a case before Tony was to leave on his week long vacation, he would not be allowed to leave and would instead have to remain behind – leaving Las Vegas to the mercy of his former frat brothers.

Unluckily for Tony, he got his wish as the day didn't hold much as far as action went. It was all filing paper work and tying up loose ends and as five in the afternoon rolled closer second by second, Gibbs found himself looking towards his desk phone in the quiet hope that it would ring any moment now. Tony was almost stunned that nothing had eventuated in the ten hour period. Trying to jinx himself, Tony stared at the slow ticking hand on the clock opposite him on the wall. Each tick seemed to slow the closer to five it got. He felt like he was back in school waiting for the final term bell to sound before summer holidays started. Summer always held the same sense of foreboding for him as much as this did. The flight he had booked out of IAD, wasn't until eleven that night. That meant he had a bit of time to finish off the little bit of packing he had laid out on his bed. He thought, if he was done by seven, he could have a half decent meal before the shuttle car he had booked would arrive to drive him to Dulles. Suddenly, staying at home didn't seem like such a bad idea.

The minute hand sat on the fifty-ninth minute, the second hand was making its final approach. Tony was actually going to be able to leave on time, and he wished for the shrill ring of Gibbs phone to pierce the silence. If that happened he would have to reschedule his flight so that he would meet up with his buddies in Vegas later in the week. The phone never rang. Tony's disappointment was expertly hidden.

Gibbs still had the news playing behind him on the plasma, the sound silenced. The man had hardly moved from his chair all day, accomplishing little but consuming too many cups of coffee and several visits to the head. Tim and Ziva were elated to find out that their Friday had consisted of nothing more than simple desk duties, in order to create airtight cases so that whoever was guilty didn't escape what ever conviction they justly deserved. Tony stood slowly, packing up the last of his items, throwing them into his bag with as much care as a Greek Groom at the plate smashing ceremony. Tony was out of there. He looked longingly at the phone on his superior's desk but still the call never came.

Gibbs raised his head in the direction of his Agent as he watched him pack the last of his things away. The new steaming cup of thick brew sat idly by his side, making him drool with the expectancy of bitterness and goose bumps. Making sure that his desk was tidy, his computer was switched off and there was no evidence of prank playing that may or may not have happened while Gibbs had gone out for his lunchtime coffee, Tony finally switched off his desk lamp, taking in one last glance towards his Boss' work station. The two men locked on each others gaze, Tony breaking out into a grin as a way of asking permission to leave. Gibbs reacted with a smirk of his own, the smile on Tony's face getting wider if that were at all possible. As Gibbs looked away, he missed the smile as it faltered, unsure of what it wanted.

"Thanks Boss."

The words were simple, the lack of sincerity lost on deaf ears. Gibbs ignored the rest of his team as Ziva and Tim started packing up their few miscellaneous items. Neither of them saw the look of worry on the face of the Lead Agent as he watched Tony become engulfed by the main elevator.

Tony's smile was replaced by a gulp of fear as the doors shut. He was off to Vegas and no one not even Gibbs was going to stop him.

********

It was nearing close to midnight. Gibbs was just signing off on the final reports that had been handed in regarding the missing girl. With no more leads to follow, the trail was dead and was put as an aside for another day.

Gibbs stretched his aching joints, popping and creaking as the movement brought feeling back into his extremities, his toes and fingers mainly. He placed the file on top of all of the other reports, thinking that some time off over the weekend might do his team good. A week without DiNozzo was going to be great, peace and quiet and the silence would bring productivity. Gibbs smiled only briefly as the feeling he had earlier invaded his area, worse and more intense.

The only light left on in the abandoned office was Gibbs desk lamp and the flickering of the plasma behind him. The fluorescent blue caused shadows to dance on the floor as the motion caught the Lead Agent's eyes. Turning around to the television, Gibbs found himself reaching for the volume control as images of burned wreckage in a paddock somewhere flickered across the screen. As the volume slowly increased, Gibbs heard the newscaster as he stared at the image, taking in all the information he could.

"…If you are just joining us, there has been a plane crash outside of Blue Ridge, Missouri. As you can see on your screens, there is devastation everywhere as fire crews are struggling to extinguish the burning wreckage. We're also getting reports through now of no survivors. There is an unofficial announcement that there are no survivors."

Gibbs just stared at the information flashing before him in visions of Technicolor and disaster. He couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind.

Turning back around, Gibbs started looking through his desk draw. He pushed his way through staples, acetone, chewing gum and paper clips. His hand located the piece of paper it was searching for, a pale green itinerary was folded up and out of sight. Tony had given it to him saying that the rest of the team had said they didn't want it. Gibbs knew, however, that he had been the first one that Tony had asked.

Unfolding the folio, Gibbs disregarded the inconsequential information to find the basics he needed. Reaching across for his glasses, Gibbs failed to open them up rather reading through them while holding them to his eyes.

Anthony DiNozzo

United Flight 796.

Leaving: Dulles International Airport (IAD) at 23:07

Arriving: McCarran International Airport (LAS) at 01:20

Gibbs stared at the document, taking in all of the information, reading it and re-reading it again and again. A voice interrupted his thoughts and he stared back towards the screen.

"This just in. We have received confirmation that there are no survivors. We repeat, we have a confirmed report that there are no survivors on United Flight 796."

Gibbs stared at the screen, utter disbelief written across his face. This was proof. He had heard it with his own ears, felt it in his own stomach. That was the flight that Tony was on. The broadcaster had said it and Gibbs had heard it. He stared dumbfounded at the screen as all sound disappeared around him. He felt sick. He felt overwhelmed, he felt… lost.

Gibbs sat back down in his office chair and absent mindedly stared across at the darkened desk diagonally opposite him. The reality sunk in slowly and then all at once, refusing almost immediately to accept it. He just couldn't gather his thoughts. He had just been told that he would never again see that inane grin. The movie quotes, Magnum P.I. references, they all disappeared in the second he had put that clue together. There would be no more super-gluing McGee to things. The American Pie Coffee Mug would go to Palmer, Duck would finally get his hands on that, what was it, Atom Ant Stapler? And Ziva would take his letter opener. Gibbs thought he might seek permission to keep the man's badge. It was the least he could do.

Gibbs eyes returned distantly to the bad news in front of him, reaffirming that he had heard correctly and that the facts were true. As it started to hit home, Gibbs could start to feel the sting of his tears hitting his eyes. A sniffle escaped from the Lead Agent and he fought with every intention to not cry, not for Tony. He couldn't cry for Tony because Tony would be ashamed. No tears from this Marine, he decided. With that thought, the ex-gunnery Sergeant stood up and turned off his lamp, leaving the empty room to continue watching Tony's last moments alive, almost as though turning it off would mean that Gibbs would have to admit that his eldest boy was really gone.

Gibbs wasn't ready for that reality and he slowly dragged himself to the lift, thinking that his Senior Field Agent would be back in a week to laugh at the massive practical joke he had managed to pull over everybody.

That's what he would tell himself for now, because if he didn't, Tony would be really gone and that was something that Gibbs could not face again.

The metal doors swallowed the older man, closing in a brief moment. They hid the lone tear that rolled down his cheek and soaked into the carpet, the last tear the Leroy Jethro Gibbs would shed. No one else was going to die on him. Not without his permission.

A/N: I would like to mention that the inspiration for Gibbs wanting Tony's badge comes from another story, Reactions by amber-chick. I love it and I thought I would put it in as a homage to the story! No copy right intended.

I hope you all like this chapter and it lives up to what you want.

Sal