.Chapter ten
Tony moved uncomfortably, groping for something that wasn't where it should be. Cosmo groaned softly and did the same thing. They woke up simultaneously and sat up.
Remy mumbled, "Fuck! I can't sleep." He also sat up.
Gibbs smirked at them all and dropped a duffle on the floor. "Had it delivered along with some other stuff." He handed out issue M4A1's and. SIG-Sauer 10mm's. He watched with some amusement as Dean, Cosmo, Remy and AJ settled down at once and started snoring. He laughed softly at himself as he settled in with his old Marine standards, a M4A1 and a Beretta .9mm.
Tim and Jimmy barely moved during all this. Tim mumbled, "Mmm? Wa'?" but went back to sleep when Gibbs said, "Sleep, Tim. It's ok."
Jimmy didn't even do that.
However, this issue of loaded weapons did lead to one near-disaster.
One of the cooks' assistants didn't know exactly what was going on because he'd had a Darwin Award moment and zoned when he should have been listening. Culinary Specialist Humphreys checked his watch and realized that it was nearly time to end breakfast and no one had come to eat yet. Not wanting to see all that food go to waste, he decided to wake up the lazy so-'n-so's.
"Hey! Everyone up! Service is ..." he paled and gulped, he was now faced with 5 loaded and locked weapons, in the hands of four half-asleep SEALS and one wide-awake Marine. Tim was groping for a weapon he didn't have, while Jimmy had armed himself with a tent peg that had been kicked under his rack. He'd found it when he'd dived under the rack. He really hated being awakened by being shouted at.
The Culinary Specialist held up his hands, palm out, in the universal gesture of surrender.
Tony immediately ripped him a new one. "What the fucking hell are you thinking, sailor? You really wanna be shot, stabbed and ..." he eyed Jimmy. "Pegged? Jimmy, what ... never mind..." he turned back to the sailor. "I really don't wanna know. But I do want to know what the fuck you were thinking."
"Sir! Sorry, sir." The CS didn't know who these men were but they were clearly Special Ops of some kind. "I was just thinking that it's nearly end of service and I didn't want all that food to go to waste. Sorry, sir. I ... permission to ... er ..."
Tony took mercy on the man and said, "Get out. We'll be to mess in ten."
Everyone turned to Jimmy who was half hysterical, lying on his rack, clutching the tent peg and laughing his ass off. "Pegged? Oh, man. AJ ... pegged? Seriously?"
Tony realized what Jimmy was laughing about and cracked up himself. The rest soon followed, Tim snickering until he tripped over his boots and fell onto the floor. This made everyone laugh even harder.
When they sobered up enough to deal, they got dressed in their still damp uniforms, only taking time to shake the sand out of them, and headed for the mess tent to eat.
The mess line was empty except for the servers, so they grabbed trays and started.
The Chief Culinary Specialist announced, "Gentlemen, we have eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, hash browns and coffee, juice and milk."
Tony looked at the food and just said, "Yes." The server he was facing looked puzzled for a moment then just started them off with a spoonful of eggs. The next in line added his bit and they sat down at the only table to stuff their faces.
Everyone of them went through the line twice, Gibbs three times― the fourth trip didn't count as he only refilled his coffee.
When they were done eating, a Chief Petty Officer approached Tony, saluted and said, "Shower tent set up up top in the parking lot. I thought you might like to get rid of all that sand and get clean uniforms. Sir."
Tony saluted back and replied, "I'm sure we all would. Thank you, Chief."
They trooped up to the parking lot to see the shower tent set up at the edge of the lot. A grinning sailor pointed. "The heater's up and running. Not unlimited but, as long as you don't stay in until you prune, we'll be fine." He saluted easily and went back to tending his equipment.
Tony led the way, stripping off his filthy uniform and wadding it up, stuffing his shirt, t-shirt, shorts and socks into the body of his pants and tying it into a bundle with the legs. The rest of the group followed suit.
They were soon in the hot water, soaping up to get rid of the sand.
Jimmy started with his hair and used the shampoo to wash the rest of his body, then he grabbed a bar of soap and started all over again. He felt like he had sand everywhere. Which he, more or less, did.
Tim hissed softly as the soap stung raw skin. The sand that had crept into every fold of his clothing had chafed him. He had raw spots in places he'd never even thought of being raw. "Ow. Fuck. AJ, I hate you. Seriously." But he was grinning none the less.
Dean seconded that emotion with a loud raspberry. "Asshat."
"Well, fuck you very much, Dean. You wanna run out a' steam over there, fine with me. But I don't want to hear any bitching when Al Qaida decides to bastinado you or whatnot." AJ's tone of voice was amused rather than insulted.
Remy just patted him on a wet soapy shoulder. "That's ok, AJ, I still love you."
"Idiot." Tony swatted Remy's hand away gently. "I can't wait to get into a clean uniform and get some more coffee."
Jimmy just produced a tube of salve and started medicating people as they finished their showers. He'd rushed through his so he could be ready. He was amazed at some of the places sand had abraded; he let each man deal with the more private chafing themselves.
It wasn't long before everyone was dressed in clean clothing: blacks for the SEALS with all appropriate patches, fruit salad and ranks; and MARPAT for the others. Gibbs was pleased, as was Jimmy. Tim was indifferent, he was just glad to be clean, dry and warm.
They made it back to the mess tent just in time. The cooks were about to dump the last of the coffee; they obediently poured it into the thermal cups that Gibbs had produced from his magic duffel. There was a bit of bitching that they all had the Marine logo on them, but not too much as he'd offered, with a sly smile, to put them away again. This would mean that they got much less coffee, as the cups were somewhere around 20 oz while the only other available cup was white styrofoam and held a meager 6 oz.
Gibbs sighed, he hurt in places he hadn't hurt in in years. But he also felt great. He'd kept up with SEALs who were up to two decades younger than he was and didn't hurt any more than they did. He eyed Tim and Jimmy.
Jimmy was moving stiffly but seemed good to go, just sore. Tim also seemed ok, a bit stiff and sore but no more than was to be expected.
A quick glance at Tony proved that he was also assessing his new team members. They exchanged approving nods, they'd more than do.
"Ok, everyone. The next torture on the menu is H2H training. We've been discussing that while we got everyone up to speed. Now we get to do another assessment. I know how good Dean, Cosmo, Remy and Gibbs are. I need to know what you two can do." He eyed Tim and Jimmy. "We'll deal with that starting on Tuesday." He refused to say any more, no matter how much Tim poked and prodded. Jimmy just kept his mouth shut, sure he was going to fall flat at this. The last time he'd done anything, it had been in Scouts and he'd barely managed his badge.
They all piled into a chopper, coffee and weapons in hand; as they settled it was plain that the two groups were now one. Tony grinned at Gibbs as he settled by his side in the front of the compartment. "Hope you don't mind that I co-opted the group."
Gibbs snorted. "Not a bit. Just so we're clear. SEAL ops, your command. NCIS ops, mine."
"Never doubted it for a second, Jethro." Tony saluted his boss and friend with his coffee. Lifting the cup to his lips he took a sip.
"Me either, AJ, but needed to be said." Gibbs saluted him back and took a healthy gulp.
Tim settled by Remy, with Dean on his other side. Jimmy sat across from him, with Cosmo between him and the open door.
Remy nodded to Tim. "How much H2H do you actually have?"
"NCIS standard. Tony tried to get me to do more, but ... well, I thought I knew what I was doing and turned him down. Wish I hadn't." he managed to look ashamed of himself without having a pity party.
"We all screw up from time to time. It's what you do about it that counts. He won't hold it against you." Dean smiled kindly at his friend.
Jimmy admitted, "I don't know how good I'm going to be. Maybe I should just learn to shoot?" He looked enviously at the SEALs, they were all so comfortable with their weapons that they didn't even realize that they were still carrying the M4A1's on slings with the 10mm's in holsters at their hip.
Cosmo settled more comfortably as he said, "Oh, Gremlin, you'll do that too. When we're done you'll at least be able to rock 'n sock 'em."
"What's that?" Jimmy wondered what kind of martial art that might be.
"Hit 'em in the head with a rock, sock 'em in the jewels, and run." Dean nodded once, conformation of his belief in Jimmy's abilities
After that, the conversation died off as it was almost impossible to talk without shouting.
They landed at Quantico and found another transport waiting for them.
The carrier driver had been given the addresses so he just drove to Gibbs' place first, as it was first on the way. Gibbs, Cosmo, Dean and Remy got out, catching their small go bags as Tony tossed them out. Gibbs took a moment to collect the arms, so as not to have someone go hysterical at the sight of Tony, armed to the teeth. Remy banged on the side of the vehicle to let the driver know to drive on.
At Tony's place they told the driver to head back to base; Jimmy had seen his old truck parked in Tony's lot. A note on the window said that Ducky had gotten Abby to drive it there for him. He tossed his bag into the passenger seat, said his goodbyes and headed home to crash for the rest of the day.
Everyone else did the same thing.
.
The next day saw them all at the gym. Weights were done with quickly and Tony told the group that yoga and tai chi were now optional; his expression said that they'd better keep it up on their own time. H2H was taking their place.
The group paid a quick visit to their yoga teacher to explain what was going on. They found that he had places open in his late evening class; they filled them up.
Tai Chi wound up added to the end of everyone's run.
They went from the yoga studio to the attached dojo to see if they could get their reserved dojo yet.
They could, but the receptionist dropped a small bomb on them. It seemed that they couldn't use the room without an accredited instructor with them.
Tony just shrugged and said, "Fine, but if he gets himself hurt, don't blame me."
They met the man at the door of the dojo. He was well set up but seemed a bit full of himself. He opened the door for them but went through first. Good manners would have let Gibbs, as eldest, go first, then the sensei, then the students in rank order. That would have been proper.
Tony just eyed the man up then said, "Well, let's see who knows what." He meant he wanted to see how good Tim was. That Jimmy was a total tyro was a given.
The instructor started out wrong-footed. "Well, first thing, you need to learn proper dojo etiquette." He turned to find that all his 'students' were kneeling properly, lined up and waiting.
It turned out that Clark-Sensei was of the mistaken opinion that he needed to teach them something. He even made a rather insulting remark about Gibbs being a bit on the small side for truly effective defense.
Dean leaned his head to one side and addressed Cosmo. "He did not just commit suicide by Gibbs. Really."
"He did. Yes, he actually did." Cosmo settled back to watch with interest.
AJ shrugged and joined the conversation. "No better than committing SEALicide. Seriously."
The sensei called Gibbs onto the mat, saying, "Well, we'll see what I need to teach you."
Tony moaned but Tim barked, "Tatakai!"
The sensei grabbed at Gibbs and got tossed onto his butt. He fell well, but his expression of surprise was funny. He got up, Gibbs tossed him again. He didn't get up the third time. Instead, he lay on the mat, a pissed expression on his face. "You're not a bunch of arrogant, know-it-all, wanna-be's, are you?"
Gibbs shook his head, a solemn expression on his face.
"Damn. I'm gonna apologize now and then go kill my counterpart."
Gibbs helped him to his feet. He bowed to the group and left.
Tony stood up and took over. "Okay, now that that idiocy is done ... I don't give a fuck about dojo etiquette. Take your shoes off at the door so you don't ruin their mats. Sir me, and anyone else of rank to be sirred. Now. Tim. You and ... Dean. Up."
Dean proceeded to toss Tim around like a rag doll.
Tony finally called a halt and announced, "Not that bad. Tim, you just need work and a better idea of what you can actually do. FLETC isn't that good for actual defense. They're more for takedown of a perp. Jimmy. You're up."
Jimmy stepped onto the mat. He proved to be willing but unable. He had been taught basic boxing and judo but never worked on it. He was, as Cosmo observed, terminally untrained.
Gibbs winced as Jimmy limped to the sidelines. "Sorry about that, Gremlin. I should have seen that you got some training a long time ago."
Jimmy was quite cheerful about the whole thing. "Well, maybe. But I'm only a Mortician's Assistant. So ... um ... can we just file this under better late than never and move on?"
Gibbs nodded. "Sure."
Dean nodded to Gibbs then said, "Okay, Gremlin, you're with me. I'm gonna show you how to fall without hurting yourself. This lesson should take a week to set. Then we'll get on with it."
Jimmy nodded. "Okay, falling. Not something I'm fond of."
"Then you're not doing it right." Dean led Jimmy away.
Gibbs watched for a moment then turned to Tony. "Match with me."
"Okay, not takin' it easy on ya anymore."
Gibbs whacked him in the head. "Not supposed to. Supposed to give me a good match so I don't get rusty."
"Ouch! Okay, that does it." Tony tackled Gibbs, taking the lighter, smaller man to the mat. They wrestled, each man trying to get on top of the other. Tony finally overcame Gibbs, forcing him belly down on the mat with his arm twisted behind his back. He slapped out without hesitation.
Tony hopped up, putting some distance between himself and Gibbs. Gibbs laughed, rubbing his shoulder. "I won't do anything. Pax."
"Yeah, right." Tony was decidedly skeptical, and not without reason. He'd seen Gibbs get up from situations that should have had him down and out. He cheated.
Gibbs worked his shoulder a bit, decided it was good and stood up. "I only cheat when it's real. Training, I don't."
Tony snorted, "Unless you do."
Gibbs smirked at him. "There is that."
They settled at the side of the mats to watch the others work out. As expected, they were all more than competent.
Tony finally stood up, called everyone to settle by the mat and began his evaluation. "Okay, you animals. Here's the deal. Remy, Dean, Cosmo and Gibbs. Do not want to meet you in a dark alley if you're mad at me. Tim. Okay. Good against druggies and noncombatants, easily fixed. Jimmy? Man, not to put too fine a point on it. Hope like hell you can run really fast. But, you're willing and I have high hopes." Jimmy just shrugged. "I know. No opportunity. You've got one now, make use of it."
Jimmy nodded. "I will. I'm not ... um ... not a fighter. But I need to be able to protect myself and a patient. I really think shooting might be my ... forte."
Tony thought about that for a moment then said, "Well, we'll teach you that too. But you really need to learn at least basic hand-to-hand."
"I'll do my best."
Tony smiled. "That's all we can ask."
They broke up then, heading for the showers and a quick clean-up before they subjected a restaurant full of people to their presence.
After stuffing themselves with Italian food from a nearby excellent restaurant; they headed to NCIS for their afternoon of cold cases.
Dean grumbled, "Why are we doing this? Seriously. What's the point?"
Gibbs chuckled, "Stop and think. AJ, Cosmo, Remy, bored."
Dean moaned, "Oh, no. Just no. Thanks so much. I don't even want to contemplate that."
Gibbs kept the thought that Dean would be just as disastrous to himself.
Gibbs was a bit irritated that Vance hadn't allowed them full days off for the duration, until he'd realized that Ducky's idea of taking time off and resting wouldn't work. All the SEALs were off because Tony was off. This would lead to boredom, over-exercising and obsessing on something. This was not a good thing. So, full days until Tony was healed enough that being bored was turning into a problem. Then, half days to exercise up to full strength and the other half stuck at a desk; enforced rest.
Abby was finally back in her lab. All her assessments and cleaning checks were done and approved. She even got a few new machines― her old ones were outdated enough that they were replaced. She wasn't that happy about it, her babies were hers after all. But she allowed herself to be consoled and was now happy with her new babies. This gave all the SEALs something else to do. She shanghaied one of them to help her with heavy lifting from time to time.
All in all, things were going well for Team Gibbs. And, as everyone knows, that's usually the time when the shit hits the fan.
.
Gibbs stiffened as his sharp ears caught something he'd never thought to hear.
"DiNozzo's a fake. Never thought that frat boy would amount to much, except for being Gibbs' gofer. Now, he's all 'I'm a SEAL'?"
He started to stand up and take a chunk out of whoever was speaking. He never got the chance.
Tony appeared behind the man and his companion. "Well, I am. A SEAL, that is." Tony's tone of voice was deceptively mild. "And I'm Gibbs' 2IC. As to being a fake? Not. I'd suggest that you think about your attitude and adjust it. I will not tolerate disrespect. To me. To my uniform. To my rank. Or to Supervisory Special Agent Gibbs. If he's satisfied with my service, who are you to make remarks?"
Gibbs could tell, by Tony's voice, that he was furious. He wondered if he should do something then decided that, whoever it was, the idiot would have to deal for himself.
He did take a peek over the divider to see who it was. He thought the speaker's name was Hensen, but he wasn't sure. He knew the other agent. That was Senior Agent Barth, a rather inoffensive man, more of a follower. A man who would never make team lead and was only a Senior Agent because of his tenure.
Tony glared at both men. "Either one of you want to start something? If you do, I'll see you in the gym at 1730. Or you can just shut the fuck up now."
Barth held up his hands. "Not me. Just listening to the idiot. I'm gone. And ... Martin? Stay away from me. You bring trouble that I don't need." Barth nodded to Tony, then to Gibbs, and scurried away.
Gibbs was just about to say something to Tony, he wasn't quite sure what, when Director Vance spoke from behind him. "Martin, you're an idiot. Do you actually think that I'd let anyone pretend to be an officer, never mind a SEAL ... right here in the offices ... under my very nose? He is what he says he is. And you will respect the rank and uniform, even if you don't respect the man." He nodded to Tony. "As to meeting LtCmdr DiNozzo in the gym? I wish you would." He nodded to Tony again and marched off, back stiff with offense.
Tony shrugged easily. "Well? Don't bother to answer. I'll be there." Tony then followed Vance, calling over his shoulder. "I'm going down to see Abby."
Gibbs just eyed Martin for a moment then snorted, "Stuck your foot in it. Vance is a bit sensitive about DiNozzo. So am I. I'll bring a broom and dustpan." He smirked. "In case there's anything left of you after that pissed off SEAL is done." He shook his head then ambled away grumbling, "Coffee. I need coffee."
Martin stood there for a moment then looked around to see several people looking at him, some with pity, some in outrage. He snarled, "Well? What the hell are you gawking at? Go do something useful." He stormed to his desk to pretend he was doing something. No one commented on the way his hands shook when he picked up the phone.
.
Tony walked straight through Abby's lab and into her office.
It didn't take long before Abby's pounding techno changed into easy listening jazz. One of Tony's favorite sets.
"Tony?" Abby scooted the rolling chair over a bit and joined Tony, settling on the low lab stool that was her favorite seat. She leaned into him, resting her cheek on his chest.
"Disrespect. I'm so tired of it." Tony hugged Abby, resting his cheek on her hair.
"Yeah, you put up with it from Kate, McGee, Ziva ... um ... don't think anyone else? So they all think you're some idiot. Stop it." Abby poked him in the stomach. "I mean it."
"I am. I'm meeting that jackass Martin in the gym tonight. If he shows up." He tugged at Abby's pigtail. "So ... do I whip his ass good, or just sorta?"
"Squash him like the bug he is. Make an example of him. You've worked out with Gibbs and your team and word is getting around. But ... well, some people are just blowing it off as BS." Abby sighed at the stupidity. "So, you'll have to ..."
Tony jiggled his shoulder, shaking Abby. "Kick his ass, hard."
"Yeah. Just don't break anything major." Abby kissed Tony on the cheek then got up. "And come carry this big box for me. I'm all done with it, so it can go back to Evidence." She waved a hand at him. "And stop calling them Baggie Bunnies. It's awful. They're not saggy. Now shoo."
Tony chuckled, picked up the box and headed out to Evidence. The box wasn't all that heavy but it was big and a bit awkward for Abby's shorter arms.
.
Tony effectively avoided everyone for the rest of the day. He spent part of it in MTAC and part translating for an interrogation. What time he didn't spend in those two activities, he spent simply hiding out. No one knew where he went and Remy actively dissuaded people who asked from looking for him. He'd be found when he wanted and not before.
When he wanted was at exactly 1720; he came strolling into the gym from the locker room with a small smile on his lips. He'd heard Martin complaining to one of the trainers that he didn't want to fight, he was sure he'd hurt him, Tony, and get in trouble with Vance. The remark that had made him smile was, "So, he's teacher's pet. That's new."
Tony was wearing old gym clothing, sweats that had seen better days and a t-shirt that was nearly thin enough to read through. He looked hard and lean and mean.
Martin came out of the lockers wearing new sweats and a muscle shirt. This wasn't as impressive as it was meant to be, as his exposed torso was pasty white and the sweats hugged a burgeoning beer belly. The fact that his pecs and biceps were a bit flabby didn't help the picture any either.
Tony refrained from flexing like some muscle-bound idiot; instead, he... rippled, flexing in a wave down his body. He smiled at the trainer who had agreed to referee and asked, "Red, Martin ready?"
Red shrugged. "He is." Red was not fond of Martin and his clique, they were more hot air than action and annoyed the ex-Air Force DI. He really wanted to get them in his 'didn't qualify' squad. It was actually referred to as the DQ squad, and they had been called the Dairy Queens, until some of the mockers had wound up in it.
Tony nodded to Red. "I'm ready anytime you are."
"Just waitin' on the other guy." Red eyed Martin with disfavor. "Step up, man."
Martin stepped onto the mats―none of that pansy boxing for them.
Tony pulled his MMA gloves on, put his mouth piece in, then nodded to Red.
Red watched as Martin put on light boxing gloves, a mouth piece went into his mouth, and the battle started.
Red had them face each other, bump gloves in lieu of a handshake and called, "Fight!"
Tony took his stance and waited for Martin to do something. Martin decided that this was a sign of cowardice on Tony's part and started to circle him. When he attacked, he charged like a bull at a red flag. Tony just stepped out of his way, stuck out his foot and tripped Martin.
Martin fell, slid clear off the mats and lay on the bare floor for a moment. He staggered to his feet, shook his head and bored back in.
Someone yelled, "Give it up, Martin. You're doomed."
Martin just charged again, as if sheer persistence would make the fight his.
Tony grinned and stepped out of the way again, allowing Martin to plow into a cluster of watchers. One of the watching men spun him around and pushed him back onto the mats again.
Tony laughed, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. "Watch where you're going, Martin. And ... please ... do something else, this is getting monotonous."
So Martin tried something different. He decided, only he knew why, to try a head kick. Tony showed everyone why that only works in the movies and high-performance x-fighting. As Martin's foot headed for his face, Tony grabbed his ankle and just held on. This left Martin off balance and hopping in a circle to keep from falling down. Tony pulled; careful not to overbalance Martin, he led the hopping man all over the mats. Then he dumped him a third time, this time by simply lifting Martin's foot until he overbalanced and fell on his butt.
"And let that be a lesson to you. Keep your mouth shut unless you actually have something intelligent to say." Tony turned his back on Martin and started stripping off his gloves, convinced that the fight was over. Red had called, "Point," after all.
But Martin didn't seem to think the fight was over. He took a rather wild swing at Tony and hit him in the middle of his back, right between the shoulder blades.
Tony froze then turned so quickly that no one had a chance to stop what happened next. Tony punched Martin right in the face. The only thing that saved Tony's hand and Martin's face was the MMA gloves; unfastened though they were, they were still padded enough to protect both men.
Gibbs jumped Tony, getting between him and Martin, speaking quickly and softly. No one could hear what he said but the results were that Tony smiled briefly then let Gibbs lead him away.
Director Vance, who'd come down to see the fight, ordered two off-duty security men to get Martin and hang onto him until on-duty security could come for him. He informed Martin, in no uncertain terms, that his career was over. No one would work with a back-stabbing loud-mouth like him. Martin seemed stunned by the whole thing.
The watching agents all grumbled and muttered. Everyone was of the opinion that Martin was an idiot. The general consensus was that no one wanted to work with him, even his team lead. That man had a quick conversation with Vance and was told to clear Martin's desk out and take his personal possessions to the main entry for collection by the now jobless man.
Leon Vance was not a stupid man; sometimes he was a bit blind and hidebound, but not stupid. He was well aware that Tony was much more dangerous than he let on. His frat-boy attitude was all smokescreen to hide his abilities, and to keep people from developing an irrational fear of him. Gibbs was much more intimidating than DiNozzo, until Tony 'blew his fuse;' then the taller, wider man was just plain scary.
He made his way over to the group huddled around Tony, hoping he wasn't going to find DiNozzo injured. "How is he?"
Cosmo turned to smile at Vance. "He's okay. We just had to separate him from Martin quickly. One of his triggers is being socked from behind. Even slapping him on the back friend-style can cause problems."
Gibbs turned from where he was still talking Tony down. "He's okay, but we need to get him out of here and somewhere ... smaller. More defensible. Until he's calmed down."
"Okay. Why don't you take him into the trainers' office? They won't mind. It's not tiny but it's small. And all of you in it at the same time will make it ... cozy, for lack of a better word." Vance went away then, to speak to the trainers.
Gibbs nudged Tony. "AJ, come on. We're taking this elsewhere."
Tony sighed. "I'm okay, Boss. Just took me by surprise. He's lucky all I did was break his nose."
"I know. But I want you down. Don't want you getting surprised by someone else and bustin' them."
Tony chuckled, "Okay, BDD. Where are we going?"
Tim, on the sidelines, but there to support his friend, turned to Dean. "BDD?"
"Big Damn Dog." Remy grinned. "You know. From the expression, 'If you can't run with the big dogs, stay on the porch.'?"
Tim nodded his understanding. "Yeah. And Gibbs is a big dog."
"Right. Come on, let's get AJ somewhere he's more comfortable."
Tim agreed with that and they all moved into the trainers' office. Dean, Cosmo and Tim took positions between Gibbs and Tony and the door. Remy and Gibbs stayed close to Tony, Gibbs talking to him softly while Remy interjected, "It's okay, AJ." from time to time.
Red poked his head in the door. "Things okay?"
Tim glanced back then replied, "As good as can be expected. Step out."
Red backed up and let Tim follow him out into the hall. "Can we get some coffee? That might help ground him. Hazelnut creamer, two sugars. And black for everyone else."
He reached for his wallet but Red snorted softly and walked off, calling over his shoulder, "I got it. Be ten."
Tim called, "Thanks," then went back into the office.
By the time Red returned with coffee for all of them, Tony was calmed down. Red handed out the coffee, taking the last for himself. "Okay, that was interesting. DiNozzo?"
"Mmmm?" Tony's inquiring grumble made everyone smile.
"You okay now?" Tony nodded. "Good. And ... well, glad Martin's a dick of the past. Made a real nuisance of himself in more ways than one. Don't get yourself all worked up over him."
Tony shook his head. "Not him, just ... reaction to being punched from behind. I'm fine. Just ..." he took a sip of the coffee Red had brought him. "Thanks again for the coffee."
Gibbs patted him on the shoulder. "Want to go back upstairs, or hang here?"
Tony didn't have to think about that. "Upstairs. Feel better at my desk. And ... I think I've got a handle on that case I've been reviewing."
Tim relaxed, the light tone in Tony's voice meant he'd managed to pull another save out of his ass, or somewhere.
Tony followed Gibbs up the stairs, the team followed after like baby ducks.
They were all in their vehicles and headed for Gibbs' place before anyone actually realized that they were gone.