chapter five

Tony offered Jimmy firsts at the shower, which he gratefully accepted.

While Jimmy was showering, Tony got out his home first aid kit, the one Gibbs declared was set up for minor surgery. He set out everything needed to medic their feet again.

Jimmy came limping out, rubbing the last of the water out of his curly hair with a dryzall towel. "You going to fix my foot for me? I could do it myself ... I think."

"No. I'm gonna let it rot off." Tony laughed at Jimmy, who just made a face at him. "Sit."

Jimmy dutifully sat. Tony took a moment to get a good look at the blister. It covered most of the back of Jimmy's heel. It had slipped and all the skin was hanging loose. He got out his surgical scissors and took them to the sink. He poured alcohol over them then returned to carefully cut off the dead skin. Jimmy bore with this with admirable stoicism, only wincing when Tony accidentally poked the raw with the scissors.

"Sorry, man. This has to come off." Tony eyed his handiwork, decided that this was as good as it got and smeared antiseptic cream over the wound. He ripped a pack of 4x open and stuck it to the cream. A couple of strips of tape later he announced, "That's as good as it gets. Ducky should take a look at that before you do any more running. Tomorrow is gym day, so you should be good to go, day after."

Jimmy, realizing that Tony actually meant for them to work out seven days a week, let out a quiet whimper.

"What?"

Jimmy bit the bullet. "Tomorrow is Sunday. I was hoping that I'd have a day to heal before gym."

"Damn. Forgot that. No, tomorrow is off. I'm too tired. Shower, food. Think later." and with that he started stripping off as he headed through the apartment for the bathroom.

Jimmy sighed and put his head down on the kitchen table. He was so tired, he wondered if he had the energy to chew. He comforted himself with the thought that Gibbs, Tony and Tim looked thrashed too. Tony was obviously tired, but still not exhausted. Tim was nearly falling down exhausted while Gibbs was, like Tony, obviously tired but still able to go on. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Tony came in, saying, "Gremlin, it does get better." The sympathy in his voice was clear.

"I know. But, right now, I hurt. I'm tired, hungry, need to piss, and fighting sleep." he nearly staggered out the door. "I'm afraid I'll fall asleep in the soup."

Tony laughed. "It has happened. You're better to fall into the bread basket. See the headlines ..." he framed imaginary headlines with his hands. "J. Palmer, MD. drowns in soup."

Jimmy laughed softly. "I'll be out in a few minutes. Don't put on a shirt. I assume you've got some cream somewhere. Find it and I'll put it on for you."

Tony hollered after him. "Cream is in the metal tub on the counter."

.

Tim staggered into his tiny apartment, eyed the pile of mail and went on. He needed a shower in the worst way. Everything hurt; he wasn't even sure he was hungry, until his stomach gave a dismal growl.

He turned on the shower and waited until the elderly hot water heater gave a grumble that indicated the water was as hot as it was going to get. He got in the shower and began to wash. He flinched and swore when the water suddenly went cold.

Instead of getting out to fix the heater, he just finished his shower in cold water and got out. He gave the heater a kick as he walked by and the thing made a burping noise that was decidedly different. He ignored it in favor of getting dressed.

He looked around his apartment and sighed. It was so small that he'd finally put most of his collectables in climate-controlled storage. He had recorded all his records on a huge hard drive, as well as all his movies. His books were in acid-free storage boxes. He really needed to move, but he hardly had time to look for a place, never mind actually move.

Giving that line of thought up as depressing, he finished dressing and found comfortable shoes. He just hoped he was still awake when it was time to leave for the restaurant. He wondered vaguely why he'd even agreed to go.

He was interrupted by his phone. He knew it was Tony by the ringtone.

"Hello."

Tony barked, "Probie, do not go to sleep. We'll be there in ten. Got things going quicker than expected."

Tim sighed. "Our reservations ..."

"Change 'em. Bye."

Tim rolled his eyes but changed the reservations. It wasn't that hard. He'd reserved a small banquet room so, when the hostess said it wouldn't be available, he agreed to a large corner table instead. The table seated 12 so they'd have plenty of room.

.

Remy, Dean, Cosmo and Gibbs arrived in one SUV, Tony and Jimmy in Tony's Mustang, and Tim arrived alone in his Boxter.

They met at the door and entered where the hostess greeted them, saying, "Party of seven? DiNozzo?"

Tony nodded. "That's right, ma'am. Thank you."

She smiled prettily; this was a nice change from her usual customer, who seemed to think she was part of the furniture. "This way, please."

Remy announced, soto voce, "Damn glad she didn't say 'Walk this way.'"

Beverly dimpled at him. "I have gotten out of the habit of saying that."

Tony chuckled and said, "Good thing. I don't think I could walk like that."

They got seated, with more banter along the way. Then Beverly asked, "Menu? Or the family style banquet?"

Tony eyed up the table, taking silent vote. "Could we see the banquet menu?"

Beverly got that stiff look of someone who knew she was going to deal with rudeness. "There's not really a menu for that. It's ... well, usually spaghetti and meat sauce, Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken, mushrooms and peas, ravioli in vodka sauce, green beans vinaigrette, salad, garlic bread ... that sort of thing. Mostly whatever they can get out quickest. If you want something specific, your server can ask."

Tony smiled at her, as did everyone else. "Look. We're not that particular, so relax." He pointed to his friends in turn. "Marine, Navy, Navy, Navy, Special Agent, Medic, Navy," he ended by pointing to himself. "We just ran the Grinder and we're all exhausted and starved. Just as long as it's hot and a lot, we don't really care."

Beverly beamed at them. "Okay. I'll send Sheila right over for your drink orders. And ..." she turned to Gibbs, "coffee, right?" Gibbs nodded. "Okay, got it."

Sheila came over with coffee pot in hand. "I hear you guys want the family style?" She poured coffee into all the upturned cups. "Ok, there's a nice lasagna just out of the oven. If I hurry, I can claim it for you. So ... any drinks, other than coffee and water?" She glanced from man to man.

The general consensus being 'no' she went off to place their order, leaving the coffee pot behind.

Gibbs had already finished his first cup. He muttered, "Good coffee," and poured himself another. He glanced over at Tim, grumbled, "McGee, drink that before you fall asleep in it."

Tim lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. He choked a bit at the strength but managed another before putting the cup down. "Okay; thanks, Boss."

Remy cleared his throat. "I'm going to take this opportunity to go over your evals." He looked around for a moment then continued. "I'm not going to bother with mine, Dean's or Cosmo's. We're all 100 per. AJ, you're a good 98 per. Gibbs, 98ish. Jimmy 90 per, very surprising and I'm proud of you. Tim, you're not so good at 88 per, but you show heart. I don't expect you to have trouble getting up to speed, if you just apply yourself." He grinned at Tim. "I don't really see you not. AJ can be a bastard when he wants. Gibbs ..." he snickered slightly, "second b. But for now, relax, eat, rest. Tomorrow is Sunday and recovery day."

Various noises of approval came from around the table, Gibbs even gave a soft grunt.

It didn't take long for Sheila to return with the full meal. She plopped her huge tray down on a folding stand that a bus boy placed for her. "Here we go. Chief wouldn't let me bring the whole pan of lasagna. He said that you could have half. I cut it into eight pieces. And there's spaghetti and meat sauce." She put out a huge platter of that while the bus boy handed out the lasagna. "And Fettuccine Alfredo with shrimp and peas." She hefted another heavy platter off the tray and onto the table. She also produced ravioli with mushrooms in vodka sauce and parmesan broccoli, green beans vinaigrette, salad and garlic bread. "There! If anyone wants desert, it's extra. If you need anything, I'll be around from time to time. Catch someone's eye if I don't get around soon enough. Enjoy." And with that, she was off about her work.

Everyone dug in, passing platters and plates around the table. Gibbs checked to make sure that Jimmy and Tim got food. He was pleased to see that Dean was persuading Jimmy to eat more beans and broccoli, while Tony was calmly putting a serving of fettuccine on Tim's plate. He nodded to Tony, mouth full of lasagna.

Sheila was astonished when she came back to the table. Every single platter and plate was empty. The salads were gone, as was the garlic bread. "Wow! You guys are a regular horde of locusts. More?"

Gibbs gave her a rather flirtatious look. "Please. And salad and bread. More coffee?"

So Sheila went back and chivvied the cook into more of everything. This led to Spaghetti Carbonara, mozzarella and tomato salad drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, more ravioli, bread and Italian salad. She also brought a whole platter of grilled fish, also drizzled with olive oil. She just laughed as the platters were passed and emptied in record time. Sheila also replaced the coffee pot.

They decided against desert but agreed that more coffee was in order.

Tony sighed. "Good food. Good evals." Tim snorted. "Seriously, dude, lighten up on yourself. You're better than..." He eyed Remy.

Remy took over. "You're better than about two thirds of the men who graduate. You're not SEAL mission ready, yet."

Gibbs swatted Tim in the head with commendable gentleness. "McGee, the only easy day was yesterday. Get used to it." He sighed softly. "Or walk away."

Tim eyed him for a moment. "Never walked away from a challenge in my life. Don't intend to start now."

Jimmy offered, "You're just tired and hurting. That would make anyone a bit grumpy."

Tim finished his coffee in a gulp. "Okay. Now, I want to go home and take a nap."

A chorus of, "Me, too," type agreements supported this idea.

Tony called for their check and paid with a credit card; he added a big tip for Sheila. They left, full and ready for a good rest.

Jimmy grumbled, "Damn. I forgot. It's Saturday and I missed the last bus."

Gibbs glanced at his watch. "It's only 1500."

Jimmy shook his head. "Bus runs here in the city, but the last bus out my way just left the stop. I'm not looking forward to a mile-plus hike, on top of everything else."

Tony patted him on the shoulder. "Come home with me. I've got a spare room, remember?"

Jimmy looked conflicted. "I wouldn't want to be a nuisance."

"Won't be. I intend to veg out on the couch. Probably go to bed early." Tony barely avoided asking Jimmy why he was still living with his Mother. One, it really wasn't his business. Two, medical school was hellaciously expensive.

They left, followed by the rest of the group.

Gibbs stopped Tony with a hand on his arm. Tony turned, one eyebrow raised.

"Wait a sec." Gibbs watched Jimmy as he leaned on Tony's car. "Jimmy's Mother lives way out. I mean, way out. He's lived with her for the last 18 months or so, and he hasn't looked happy since. Pump him."

Tony's speculative look made Gibbs nod and head for the SUV.

Tony muttered, "Gremlin, you may have a new roomy," and headed for his car.

Jimmy watched as Gibbs' group headed out in the huge SUV. "I've always wanted one of those. Guess I'll just have to want."

"Why's that?" Tony casually settled in the driver's seat.

"By the time I've paid off my loans, I'll be ... um ... 40? Ish?" Jimmy sighed. He didn't mind that he had a curfew, he'd be in bed by that time most nights anyway. But he did hate it that his mother took most of his pay. She said it was for bills and rent, but he didn't see how his share amounted to most of his pay.

"That's a hell of a sigh. Care to tell me about it?" Tony carefully kept his tone light and his eyes on the road.

"Well ... um ... It's just... I don't know. I feel like Mom still thinks I'm a silly 16 year-old. She ... Never mind." Jimmy looked out the window, clearly unwilling to say anything against his mother.

"Never mind. We'll be home soon. I'm going to put on a movie and veg. Any clear preferences?" Tony didn't need to poke Jimmy, he already had a clear idea what was wrong. He'd actually spoken to the woman a few times. She was nice, in a Jewish Mother sort of way. She had clear ideas of what Jimmy should and shouldn't do; and, with good reason, expected Jimmy to stick to her rules. After all, my house, my rules.

Jimmy shook his head. "Just nothing that involves a lot of running."

Tony laughed softly. "Okay, Chariots of Fire is out."

"Sorta." Jimmy leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He wondered vaguely why being tired always made him sleepy. Then, he fell asleep.

They arrived at Tony's apartment just in time to dodge a fist fight.

Jimmy asked Tony, "Aren't you going to do something?"

Tony eyed the combatants, who were pushing and swinging in a drunken fashion. "No, I'll call 911, it's not my job to police civilians. Let the LEO's do their job, they don't need me butting in." He dialed, spoke, listened then replied, "No. NCIS. They're civilians. If I thought they'd actually damage each other, I'd do something. Thank you." Then he hung up. "Come on. Inside. I can hear the sirens."

They went in and Tony locked the door. Jimmy eyed it for a moment then said, "That a usual occurrence?"

"Nope. Gonna call the landlord. Excuse me." Tony ambled into the kitchen, leaving Jimmy to get comfortable.

Jimmy took the big recliner that he liked and flopped into it, moaning softly. He hurt more than he'd expected.

Tony wandered back in, phone pressed to his ear. "I don't care. If I have to call 911 every hour on the hour, I will. Hire someone." He listened to a shrill yammer for a moment then interrupted, "I'm going to start putting my rent in escrow until the situation is resolved." Then he snapped his phone shut, muttering under his breath.

Jimmy started heave himself out of the chair. "I can leave. I'll ... um..."

"No." Tony held up his hand in the universal 'stop' sign. "You're fine. Stay." he picked up an afghan and tossed it over Jimmy. Then he flopped down on the couch and dragged one over himself. "I'm goin' to sleep."

"Me too." Jimmy snuggled down for a nice afternoon nap.

At Gibbs' place, the same thing was happening. Remy was sprawled over the couch, head to foot with Cosmo. Dean was out cold on the new recliner while Gibbs was dozing on the other.

Tim was also sacked out at his place.

.

The next morning was sort of like a Zombie Apocalypse, without the apocalypse.

At Gibbs' place, everyone was up and moving. The moaning and cursing, mostly from Gibbs, made Remy snicker. Dean bopped him in the head in passing. "Asshole."

Cosmo just grabbed Gibbs' coffee. Gibbs glowered but poured himself another cup. Cosmo was nearly inhuman without coffee.

Dean took Cosmo's coffee and fended off a grab to get it back. "No. Get another. Unless you want burned toast."

Cosmo allowed that, "No, burned toast is disgusting."

Gibbs just moved out of the way and watched the younger men squabble amiably over coffee and who was cooking what.

Remy grinned at Gibbs. Gibbs grinned back. "Welcome to my nightmare."

Gibbs just shrugged. "Not really that bad. At least they stay away from my boat."

They sat down to a huge breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, toast, coffee and orange juice.

When they were done, Gibbs went to check rucks, and Cosmo and Dean went out into the back yard to work on the new grill. Remy went to sidewalk supervise.

They spent the rest of the day fiddling with the grill and messing around, doing not much of anything. They all rested better when they were engaged in something, rather than lying around. That just made them restless.

.

Tony woke with a groan. He hurt all over. He'd expected to, but he didn't have to like it. He knew he'd feel much better after a hot shower and some food.

Jimmy poked his head in the door. "I'm up too. Breakfast first or flip for a shower? Um ... unless you want to claim it, as it's your house."

Tony sorted that out then said, "You're a guest, so you get first dibs. I'm making coffee. Go shower."

Jimmy headed off to the bathroom while Tony grumbled his way out of the bed and shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee. He knew he wasn't worth a shit until after his first cup. He could manage quite well, thankyouverymuch, but didn't see why he should have to.

.

Tim woke, realized that something was very off and got up glaring at the clock that dared to tell him it was nearly 1100. He sniffed. Something smelled like ― burning insulation?

He got up and wandered around his apartment, sniffing. He couldn't locate the source of the smell and that bothered him.

It bothered him so much that he got his bug-out box and put it by the door. He took his external hard drive off his entertainment center and put it in the box. He gathered up everything else of any value that was still in the apartment and stuck it in the box.

He realized that all his expensive winter things were still in storage and everything summer would fit in one suitcase. He decided he was paranoid as hell, packing everything because of a smell. But he kept packing.

It took him a rather depressing 10 minutes to get everything he wanted into the box and suitcase. Everything else was easily replaced. He even had room for his typewriter, even though he'd nearly quit using it.

He decided to take his stuff down to his car and then check around. He managed to carry the box and pull his suitcase at the same time. He shoved the box into his trunk and got the suitcase behind the seat. His ruck was at Gibbs' place, as he'd forgotten it yesterday.

A slow walk around the building didn't reveal anything untoward but his neck was prickling so he started another lap. He was joined by a neighbor who asked him if he smelled something. He admitted that he had, couldn't place what it was or where it was coming from. He also admitted that he'd moved the majority of his valuables to his car.

The neighbor shook his head. "Good idea. If it's nothing we'll look silly. But I'd rather look silly than lose some things. I'm gonna do the same thing." And he went off to get photo albums and videos and some clothes. His wife complained but helped.

A third lap had Tim convinced that he was nuts and he was just about to go back inside when the windows of an apartment on the other side of the building from his exploded outwards, scattering glass and rubble across the grass.

He grabbed his phone and called 911 then ran to knock on doors and start getting people out. He worried, for a moment, that he should have started sooner, but one thing Gibbs had ground into his head was, 'You can only do your best.' He'd done his best and he really didn't see how he could expect people to react with anything but scorn to being told, 'Leave now. I smelled something.' He scoffed to himself then went back to hammering on doors and shouting, "Building's on fire! Get out! Now!"

He was finally dragged out by a fireman who told him the building was clear. He stumbled out, coughing like a 5-pack-a-dayer. Someone handed him a bottle of water, waited until he'd had a drink then slapped an oxygen mask over his face.

He started to pull it off but a hand stopped him. "Keep it on for a few minutes. You've got a lungful of smoke. Let it clear."

He nodded and slumped where he sat, watching his home burn.

.

"Jesus Fuck me!"

Gibbs ran inside. "What!?" The rest of the group joined him.

Dean was grabbing boots as he bellowed. "McGee's place is on fire. Come on."

Everyone sorted themselves quickly. Gibbs' bellow settled things easily.

"Shadup, ball bags! Dean and I'll go. You two lugnuts stay here. No sense in adding to the confusion. If we need you, we'll call you." He turned to bark at Dean, "Damn it, Dean, move your ass. And someone call AJ."

So they sorted themselves, Dean and Gibbs heading for the apartment while Remy called Tony to give him the news.

But Tony already knew. Jimmy answered the phone and said that, due to the condition of his foot, he was at Tony's place while Tony drove over to get Tim.

.

Tim looked up when a shadow fell over him. "Aw, McGee. Damn." Tony crouched down beside his friend. "You ok?"

Tim took off the mask so he could talk. "Yeah, just got a lungful. I smelled something off and went looking. Didn't find it. Things kinda blew up. I knocked on doors and stuff."

Tony patted his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you up."

Tony pulled, Tim pushed and he found himself on his feet. He looked around at the organized chaos that was firefighting and sighed. "I think they blocked me in."

"Forget your car. It'll be ok here." Tony glanced around to find Tim's car. It was blocked in by a pickup on one side and a fire truck on the other.

Tim sighed. "It's got all my worldly possessions in it. That is, everything that's not in storage."

Tony looked around; leaving an expensive car full of stuff didn't look like a good idea.

He was glaring at the Boxter when Gibbs pulled up with Dean. Dean bailed before the SUV was even parked.

"Man, Digimon, you scared the shit out of us. You okay?" He gave Tim a visual. "You look okay. So, now what?"

Gibbs trotted over, he'd taken the time to park properly. "You got 'im?" Tony nodded. "I'm gonna see the medic," and with that, Gibbs was gone again.

Dean nodded to Tony. "AJ."

"Dean. We need to get this goofball into the SUV and over to my place."

Gibbs returned. "Medic said to see that he rests today. He can do anything he wants tomorrow. We'll take him over to my place."

Tony shook his head. "My place. Jimmy's there. We'll sort things later today. He's got to have a new place asap."

Tim just stood. He knew he was in shock, he was starting to shiver. "Boss? I ... um ... where?"

Gibbs thought for a second. "AJ, your idea is best. But we need to get his stuff, the vultures are circling."

They all looked around. There was a crowd of bystanders behind tape and none of them looked good. The residents were all gathered in the parking lot, being sorted by the Red Cross.

A firefighter came over to say, "If you need them, the Red Cross is here."

Tim looked at him for a second then said, "I've got something better. My friends. Thanks."

Gibbs eyed Tim's car. "How much does that thing weigh?"

Tim shivered, thought, then said, "Two thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight pounds. Why?"

Tony eyed Gibbs, then the Boxter. "Boss, you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Probably. Really need six guys." Gibbs looked around again. He saw what he needed and trotted over to a small group of muscular looking guys. "Hey, there. Help a fellow out?"

One of the young men shrugged. "Don't know what we can do, but ... sure."

Gibbs explained, "My friend is one of the people who got burned out. He's parked in and we need to get him out, but no one's going to move a fire truck just for him. So."

There was a bit of laughter, then they realized that Gibbs was serious.

"Man, we can't lift a car. That's just crazy." The leader of the group shook his head.

Gibbs replied, "It weighs right at a ton and a half. Six guys in good shape could do it. We've got ..." he counted quickly. "The three of us and four of you ... we could do it. Come on."

The guys looked at each other then followed Gibbs.

At his direction they all took places around the car, lifted it, and walked it over the low curb and into the street on the other side of a rather narrow strip of grass. They put the car down, high fived each other and went off to watch the fire again.

The evening news had a short 'feel good' piece about the men who picked up a car and carried it out to the road so that one of the victims of the fire could leave with what things he still possessed. The interview was with a young, fresh-faced high-schooler who admitted that they'd done it on a dare from some 'old, grey guy' who'd told them a team could do anything it put its mind to.