It started just like a small twinge behind his eyes, when he was getting out of bed. By midday the twinge had grown into a painful throbbing and Tony knew that if he won't lay down somewhere dark and quiet, before nightfall he would be fighting a full blown migraine. It was a pity that a dead marine decided to show up in some dumpster on the other end of the city. When Gibbs finished the phone call, Tony was already grabbing his jacket and heading after Ziva and McGee. He could only hope that the case won't require them staying after hours and that the Tylenol he took will ward off the worst of the headache until he'll get a chance to deal with it.

His hopes went unanswered though as the dead body came full with evidence. Too much evidence though so they had trouble discerning which of it was valid and which wasn't. There were also witnesses to interrogate, camera feeds to check and relatives with a grieving wife to console. It was much later when Tony managed to sit down behind the computer and close his eyes for a moment. Gibbs was off at the MTAC doing god only knew what, Ziva was down in the lab with Abby trying to make some sense from the evidence they found, and McGee was off on a coffee run. If heavens stood by Tony, he would forget to bring the takeout food he promised. The Tylenol had long ago ceased to work and the headache was now so bad that Tony had to fight off nausea. As soon as he saw the bullpen was empty, he popped two more pills, pulled out a pair of sunglasses and leaned his head down on the desk. Letting out a pained sigh, Tony closed his eyes.

Weirdly, it wasn't the noise that made him aware of his surroundings, but the smell. Someone was waving a carton of Chinese takeout right under his nose. Realizing what it was, Tony's eyes flew open and he startled out of his chair.

"Huh?" he mumbled dazedly, the sunglasses hanging from one of his ear stupidly. It took him a moment to focus on Ziva who was holding the carton of the won-ton soup, frowning down at him.

"You okay, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs who was just coming down from MTAC, an equal frown marring his face. Tony gulped and gave a short nod, which was probably a mistake, he realised when an extra painful spike rode through his brain. Grabbing the table for support as the world suddenly spun around him, Tony stood up and without another word dashed toward the toilet, leaving behind a rather flabbergasted team.

It was five minutes of toilet worshiping later when Tony emerged from the bathroom stall, only to half bump into Gibbs.

"Whoa," the marine grabbed him steadyingly when Tony staggered. "So, is there any logical reason why you didn't call in sick this morning, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked and Tony hid his flushing cheeks by turning on the tap and washing his face with cold water. He half hoped that Gibbs would be gone by the time he finished with the cleaning, but when he looked up he saw the marine in the mirror, waiting for an answer. Blushing, Tony turned around, leaning against the sink and rubbing at his temples, trying to push back the pain and focus.

"Uh, maybe because I wasn't sick this morning?"

Gibbs' only reply was a raised eyebrow and Tony swallowed.

"Sorry Boss. It was just a headache. All I need is few minutes for the pills to kick in."

"The same pills that probably ended up in the toilet, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked and Tony swore under his breath.

"Guess I haven't introduced you to rule number nine. Care to guess what it is?"

"Not to sleep with a co-worker?" Tony quipped, trying for a smile but managing only a grimace. Gibbs frowned and for a second looked like he was contemplating a head smack but thought better of it, for which Tony was grateful.

"No, DiNozzo. That's rule number twelve. Rule number nine is telling your superior officer when you're sick or injured, or otherwise incapable of performing your duties, such as watching your partner's back. Is that clear enough for you, DiNozzo?"

Tony winced as the raised voice cut through the tender tissues of his brain and looked sheepishly at Gibbs, realizing he really wasn't fit for watching someone's back right now. The guilt though didn't mix well with the already blossoming nausea, and Tony's cheeks turned a sickly pale green.

"Sorry, Boss. Won't happen again," he muttered, lost all the color he had left, then without warning turned and heaved into the sink. While he was trying hard not to cry as the dry-heaving worsened his already bad headache, he could hear swearing and after a moment felt a hand rub his back.

"You done, Tony?" Gibbs asked after a while and Tony wearily grunted, grateful when the tap was turned on again and the cold water washed down the mess. He washed his face and rinsed his mouth, then slowly straightened up and looked into the mirror.

"You look like shit," Gibbs said and echoed Tony's own thoughts. "Here, you left it in the office."

"Thanks," Tony took the offered sunglasses and gave Gibbs a small smile, while letting out a relieved sigh as soon as the dark glass blocked some of the light.

"Do you get migraines often DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked in a jovial tone and Tony frowned slightly.

"Migraines? No Boss, this is just a headache-" Tony started then paused and cringed when Gibbs reached to take off his sunglasses.

"Headache my ass," Gibbs growled, peering into his half closed eyes then finally returned the glasses. "I had three wives DiNozzo; I think I can recognize a migraine from a headache."

It was sign of how poorly Tony felt when he didn't came back with a fitting retort, though nobody could've faulted him for not wanting a headslap under these circumstances.

"So? How often?"

"Only once or twice in the last five years, Boss. I had them quite often as a kid but then it might've been just the surrounding," Tony quipped though he didn't elaborate at Gibbs' raised eyebrows. "Uhm, I've got one at the academy and few while working at Baltimore, but that's all, I swear."

Gibbs nodded, satisfied by the answer.

"Do you have something prescribed for it?"

"Nah, I had something as a kid but since then I'm kinda riding them out," Tony said giving a half shrug and a weary sigh. "Look boss, I'm really sorry. I know we have a case, but if you just let me sleep it off at Abby's lab for an hour or two, I'll be as good as new, promise."

"Oh yes, I'm sure a lab with strong headlights and loud music is the best place for you right now DiNozzo," Gibbs snorted and Tony swalloved as he realized his boss was right.

"Maybe my desk then? Or Ducky's office?" he relented finally and got a smile from Gibbs.

"Ducky's office is just the right place, DiNozzo. Then straight home." Gibbs raised a hand to halt any protest. "Whatever he'll give you will knock you on your ass. When you finish, McGee will take you home."

This time Tony did protest.

"Uh, thanks Boss, but I can grab a cab. You have plenty of work, no need to leave you two men down, right?" Tony gave a slight grin, hoping that Gibbs will let the whole issue drop. He knew there was no way he would get out without seeing Ducky, but if he had to leave work, there was a better place to stay than at his apartment where there was plenty of noise from the elevator being changed. And truth to say, he felt like he needed a little sympathy and who was better at sympathy than a lady doctor friend? Especially if it was Jeanne's day off.

Something on his face must've given up that he was thinking about a woman, because Gibbs got that understanding look in his eyes. The fact that he rolled his eyes and pushed Tony out of the lavatory and toward the elevator was pretty telling, and Tony didn't need to hear the grumbled 'I'm not giving you a day off so you can get laid, DiNozzo,' but Tony decided it was best to let it slide and go with the flow.

oooo

An hour later, after finally escaping Ducky's clutches with a suppository in his pocket that he was adviced to 'apply at home, because it will knock you out pretty fast' which he of course deposited in the closest trash bin, he was standing before Jeanne's apartment door, head leaning against the door, hand poised in mid knock. Was this the right thing to do? To come here in a less than upnotch state, when he could blow his cover? He should've gone straight home, or even taken a room at the motel for few hours, but he was so miserable that he simply needed some comfort. Moaning, Tony knocked on the door and instantly cringed as the sound hit him straight in the head.

For several moments there was no sound except the ringing in his head and Tony wondered if he didn't make a mistake, if Jeanne wasn't after all at the hospital. In that case he would probably just crash right there in the hall because he had absolutely no energy to call a cab and get back to his apartment. Biting his lower lip to stop himself from moaning, Tony repeated the knock, this time a little stronger. Finally, he heard shuffling steps and the lock being opened and only then did he realize he was still leaning against the opening door. Stumbling, he almost ended up in Jeanne's surprised arms.

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly and tried for a smile. It looked like Jeanne herself was just woken up. Her hair was a little ruffled, and she had just a shirt on, which under other circumstances would send Tony into a right mood. "Didn't mean to wake you up," he added apologetically.

"I wasn't sleeping," she lied and pulled him inside, her eyes curious and worried. "What's wrong Tony? You look…"

"Like crap, yeah, I know," he said and with a sigh leaned against the hand that was feeling his forehead, checking for fever. "Feel like it too."

Jeanne's eyes narrowed and Tony could practically see her jumping into doctor mode, but right now he didn't care. He just wanted to lie down and maybe let someone else take care of him. So he didn't protest as she helped him out of his jacket and steered him to the couch. Luckily he was compos mentis enough to leave his gun and any other things belonging to Tony DiNozzo in his locker at work.

"What's wrong, Tony?" she asked even as her fingers were on his neck checking for swelling, then moving to his face as she peered into his eyes. Tony made an attempt at a smile but it came out more like a wince.

"´s just a headache," he said and blinked at the sudden loss of contact when Jeanne reached for his wrist and counted his pulse, humming to herself.

"Any nausea? Did you have an aura?"

"Yes and no," Tony replied wearily, having been asked the same questions earlier by Ducky.

"Feeling sick right now?" she asked sympathetically.

"Depends if the pain spikes or not. It's not like there's anything to bring up anyway, guess I got rid even of my Christmas meal."

"Right. I take it you didn't visit any doctor?"

"Naw," Tony leered with half closed eyes, "You know you're the only one who gets to check out my great ass." He winked at her and Jeanne laughed. Tony took a good look at her and realized that she too looked tired.

"Sorry, I totally forgot you had a night shift. I shouldn't keep you from your sleep," he said and started to stand when she pulled him back down on the couch and gave him a quick kiss.

"Nonsense. I have the day off and once I get you something for the pain we can get some sleep together. Now why don't you lay back and rest a minute?"

"Why, I knew there was a reason I came here," Tony drawled as Jeanne once again touched his cheek gently, then stood and headed for the bathroom where was her medicine cabinet. He rubbed at his eyes, wondering how he survived all the times he was sick without Jeanne. How he managed to survive the plague itself? Sure, his team was there with him all the way. Kate spent the first night in isolation with him despite the risk to herself and once he was in a normal room, there was someone from his team most of the time he was awake. He remembered seeing Gibbs only twice but Brad told him he was at the hospital every day checking up on him. Oh, and there was of course Abby who totally rivalled Jeanne's care, although in a pure sisterly way.

Letting out a sigh, Tony leaned back on the couch, closed his eyes and tried not to moan as the headache tightened its grip and sent another wave of nausea his way. He was so consumed with the pain that he didn't realise Jeanne was back until he felt a cold cloth pressed against his forehead.

"Mm, you're my best doctor ever," he mumbled with a tight grin.

"I'm your only doctor," Jeanne laughed as she jabbed lightly into his ribcage. "Now come on, it's time we get to the bed."

"Oh darling you know I would love to make love with you but I've got the migraine from hell. Maybe it's just PMS."

"Excuses, excuses," she sighed mockingly and pulled Tony off the couch. He wavered for a second, eyes only half open, one hand keeping the cloth on his head the other clutching at Jeanne's arm steadyingly.

"You okay? Not gonna puke?" she asked worriedly and Tony only grunted as she led him to the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to unbutton his shirt but it was a hard task and he gave up. Jeanne took pity on him.

"Now the pants. Come on, the only way I can get them off without your help is with scissors."

It was a sign at how miserable Tony felt when the only comment he had was 'I'm up,' as he stood and shuffled out of his pants, letting them lay in heap on the floor. Jeanne frowned and pushed him back on the bed, peering into his eyes once again, and then her hands roamed through Tony's skull.

"What're you doing?" Tony asked, frowning.

"Just checking if you didn't hit your head, but I can't find any bumps."

"Told ya it's just a migraine," Tony said a little gruffly.

"No, you told me you had a headache. The symptoms you have could be also signs of a subdural hematoma, concussion, stroke-"

"Yeah, yeah," Tony halted her, "well it's just a migraine. I've used to get them as a kid but I grew out of it."

"When was the last time you got one this strong?"

"When Gi-" Tony stopped, realizing he almost said 'When Gibbs left to Mexico and I had a whole team of people who missed him to take care of'. Startled by how easy it would be to slip up, Tony decided it was enough talking for the moment. "Sorry. Do you have some aspirin or something?" he asked distractedly.

Jeanne frowned at the change of subject but didn't push for which Tony was grateful.

"Here, take these," she pushed two capsules into his hand along with a cup of water. "The capsules work faster than pills, just try to keep them down," she advised and Tony took them, sipping the water carefully.

"Thanks," he said and with a sigh he laid back, trying to settle into a comfortable position while Jeanne brought back the cold cloth and then lay down next to him, one hand resting on his chest, the other lightly carting through his hair.

"Hmm, you're an angel, Jeanne Benoit," Tony muttered sleepily and the corner of his mouth turned up when he heard the light giggle coming from her.

"Shh," she hushed and nuzzled the hair on his chest. "I love you too, Tony. Now get some sleep."

"No protest from me," he mumbled. A little while later, when the drugs started to work and the pain lost some of its edge, Tony's breathing evened out as he fell into fitfull sleep. Next to him, Jeanne Benoit watched her lover resting; the creases of pain still apparent on his face but much less pronounced than when he entered her apartment. Her eyes stopped on a small scar that was on his right arm. When she asked him, he told her it was just a scratch from a crate, but she'd already seen such scar and it came from a bullett. She loved Tony, but from the first moment she felt as if he was hiding something. Frowning, she gently traced the scar, and then with a sigh, she put her head down on the pillow and promptly fell asleep too.