Disclaimer: Well I certainly don’t own them. If I did, they’d have a lot more fun. Everybody you recognize from the shows belongs to the suits; everyone you don’t belongs to me. This story is written hopefully for the entertainment of fans, certainly not for any money; therefore no copy right infringement is intended. Like anyone would pay me for my writing.



Shoving open the unlocked heavy oak door, Tony angrily strode into the empty foyer of the small suburban Alexandria house. "Gibbs," he called out, anger vibrating in his voice.

"Gibbs, where the fuck are you?" Tony called again when there wasn’t an answer at his first call as he came to a halt in the very empty living room. "Where the hell is he?" he muttered, moving down the rickety wooden basement stairs, green eyes scanning an empty basement. The boat that Gibbs was slowly, painstakingly building by hand stood in lonely vigilance in the quiet basement. Making his way wearily back up the stairs, Tony deliberately made his way to Gibbs' kitchen, grabbing two beers from the otherwise empty fridge. "Fucker’s got to come home eventually," he muttered some more. "And when he does...," Tony bit off, savagingly twisting off the cap from the beer, then gulping large swallows of the cold bitter brew. Carefully, placing the empty on the coaster, he opened the second bottle and just as quickly finished it off. "Not nearly enough," he whispered, the second empty added to another coaster. Quickly getting back up, Tony returned to Gibbs’ kitchen. The box which contained the remaining six beers that was snagged from the fridge hung from long slender fingers as he added the bourbon bottle to his collection from its place on the second pantry shelf. Shaking his head Tony grumbled, "Dumbass grunt. Who the fuck arranges his pantry alphabetically, according to size and shape of container? Only fucking anal Gibbs."

Frowning at the soft chime of bells marking the hour on Gibbs' small captain's clock Tony finished up the last bottle of beer that he’d chased the last of the bourbon with. Rocking back in the recliner, the foot rest extended, as he lazily sank back into the chair, enjoying the buzz the alcohol created. And although the anger at Gibbs still simmered, tired and hurt green eyes began to slide close as the late hour, the stressors of the day and the alcohol began to catch up with him.


Gibbs quietly entered his house, weariness dragging down his shoulders, the latest case put to bed, suspects booked, paperwork finished, and the anticipated chat with Director Morrow having gone better than even he’d hoped. Hanging up his coat in the closet, Gibbs froze at the unusual quiet noise coming from his living room that was drawing his attention, gun quickly pulled and safety off at the ready. Moving silently down the short hall, he slid along the wall until he was able to see all corners of the room without himself being seen. "DiNozzo?" Gibbs flicked the safety back on before replacing his gun into the belt clip holster. Moving closer to the sleeping man Gibbs noticed the empty bourbon and beer bottles haphazardly spread across the small table that stood beside his favorite recliner, Tony’s snores faint in the otherwise quiet of his home.

"DiNozzo, wake up," Gibbs called loudly, snapping on the small floor lamp and angling the light to shine brightly on Tony’s slack features.

Jumping up, blearily awake, head pounding, and stomach rolling with nausea, Tony moved into a protective crouch, reaching for his service weapon. "Gibbs?" he asked hoarsely.

"Who the fuck did you think it would be DiNozzo? It’s my house after all. My question is what the hell are you doing here……. Besides drinking up all my liquor this is. Had a good party, by the way, enjoy that brand of beer?" Gibbs groused back, moving toward his kitchen. "Liked my Bourbon, did you DiNozzo? You’re going to replace the bottle and the 12 pack, you know that don’t you?"

Standing up quickly and paling as he swayed, sweat breaking out over his body, Tony stalked behind the older man, anger making an already pounding head from his developing hangover even worse. Gibbs settled into making coffee, "Wanted a beer when I got home DiNozzo, but you finished all of those so I’m going to have to settle for coffee this time. What the hell were you thinking in drinking both my beer and bourbon?"

Growing deeply, Tony grabbed at Gibbs’ shoulders, his forward movements pushing the other man until Gibbs grunted as he slammed into the wall. "DiNozzo, have you lost your mind, or are you drunker than the amount of alcohol in my house would indicate?" Gibbs snarled, blue eyes flashing.

"Tell me Boss, was she good? Did you have lots of fun fucking pussy instead of my asshole, having tits to play with instead of balls? Have you gotten tired of having to work at shoving your cock up my ass, that some wet pussy sounded good? And not just any pussy, but pussy that was attached to a murder suspect?"

"Pussy DiNozzo? You must not only be drunk but insane as well," Gibbs yelled, shoving at Tony’s body, which was tightly pressed against his, his own temper flaring to life.

"Pussy Boss, you remember Karen Wilkerson, Petty Officer Lambert’s supervisor? You remember Petty Officer Lambert don’t you Gibbs, the case we just finished up today? The case that involved siphoned off narcotics from the Naval Prescription Service via their updated computer system? Naval issue narcotics that our Beltway preppy dealer could sell them to other Beltway preppies? The very same supervisor whose DNA was all fucking over several cigarette butts around Petty Officer Lambert’s dead body. You do remember the reference DNA was pulled from the cigarette butt from the ashtray in your basement. Or do I have to draw you a portrait, Boss?" Tony’s voice grew louder and higher with each word. "I always knew you were a bastard but I thought you had some honor, some class. Only goes to show how stupid Tony really is, that he actually believed half a dozen buddy fucks makes a relationship with you. No fucking wonder your last ex-wife tried to re-arrange you skull with a golf club. "

Abruptly Tony turned away, staggering as he rushed from the kitchen. The only idea at the forefront of his aching brain and breaking heart was getting away from the source of his pain.

Shaking his head in bemusement at DiNozzo’s actions Gibbs followed his lover from the kitchen, moving quicker as he noted DiNozzo reaching for the doorknob of the front door. "Freeze DiNozzo. You’re not walking out of this house until you explain yourself," Gibbs commanded.

"Fuck you Gibbs, I’m going home. I don’t need this bullshit," Tony said as he pulled open the door, before crying out in pain as Gibbs struck, securely pinning his arms behind his back. Cuffs closed tightly over his wrists and Tony was shoved hard, face first, into the doorjamb, painfully splitting his lip.

"First DiNozzo, you’re in no condition to drive yourself anywhere right now and the last thing I’m in the mood for tonight is bailing your dumb drunken ass out of jail….. Morrow would eat my ass for me if that happened. DUI isn’t something that can be made to disappear, that kind of charge will end your career in any kind of law enforcement. Second, and I want you to hear this loud and clear Tony, I didn’t fuck Karen Wilkerson. Wanted too, yeah, she’s a beautiful woman and I am only human, I'll admit it I was attracted to her. Make no mistake Tony, I would have fucked her if I needed to for the case, but I didn’t," Gibbs said, shaking Tony sharply with each word. "And if I had gotten her between the sheets, it would be for the case, not for anything else. You hear me loud and clear DiNozzo? I'm monogamous with whatever lover I happen to be with at the time."

Pulling away, Tony stumbled to his knees, dizzy, nauseous, and vision graying out as exhaustion and alcohol sapped his strength. "Going to be sick," he moaned as blood from his split lip began to seep into his panting mouth.

"Oh no you’re not. Up DiNozzo, you’re not going to puke all over my carpets," Gibbs ordered as he physically strong armed the younger man into a swaying stance. "Move it," he ordered, half pushing, half carrying Tony to the small powder room under his stairs.

Crying out hoarsely as he fell forward, Tony narrowly missed hitting his face against the low white porcelain of the commode as he found himself helplessly vomiting, even as his knees sorely connected the cool ceramic tile in the small bath. Cursing softly, Gibbs supported the younger man as he retched agonizingly until there was moving left to come up. Gasping, Tony eased back from bruised knees as the nausea began to finally lessen, his arms painfully stretched behind his back and the metal of the cuffs chaffing the soft skin of his wrists.

"Going to un-cuff you now, so don’t do anything stupid DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, anger and some other as yet unidentified emotion easily heard in his voice, as the tingle of keys rang out in the small room.

Tony grunted, his arms flopping down around his thighs as he continued kneeling on Gibbs’ cold bathroom floor. Reaching over the stooped over figure of the younger man, Gibbs filled a small glass tumbler with cold water. "Rinse and spit," he ordered.

Looking up blankly Tony heard Gibbs say words, but his aching brain didn’t understand what the older man was saying. Grumbling under his breath, Gibbs stooped down to Tony and gently pressed the glass against the still sluggishly bleeding lower lip. "Rinse and spit, DiNozzo. It’ll get that crappy taste out of your mouth that much sooner and it’ll make it a little less likely you’ll need to puke again for a while."

Shaking his head slowly, trying to clear out pain and focus his thoughts, Tony gingerly took a sip of the cool water. Then he took another and another, swishing, and spitting into the bowl in front of him, washing away the rancid taste in his mouth.

"Up now," Gibbs commanded, grabbing Tony tightly by the shoulder as he swayed. "Let’s get you upstairs and into bed. We’ll see how the lip is, you might need a stitch or two in it," Gibbs continued. "It’s not that late yet, Ducky should be still up. I’ll get him to have a look at you."

"No," Tony cried out, pulling away from Gibbs as they moved slowly up the stairs.

"Not an option," Gibbs replied, steadily the swaying man as they moved into the open door of Gibbs’ bedroom.

Gently laying Tony on what was rapidly becoming his side of Gibbs’ king sized bed, Gibbs efficiently stripped the young man to boxers in spite of repeated fumbling from Tony to keep his clothing on. "Don’t even try getting out of this bed," he ordered. "I’m going to get a towel and ice pack for your lip. Slide under the covers," he said when he noticed the shivers dancing across Tony’s skin as he stood up and bundled Tony’s clothing, easily dropping it into the laundry hamper that stood by the door.

"Boss?" Tony moaned as Gibbs moved out into the hallway.

"I’ll be back in just a few minutes, just relax. Ice pack for your lip remember? Less moving you do, less likely you’ll puke again. I’ll bring some water for you too, sooner we start working on fixing the hangover, better you’ll feel DiNozzo."

Nodding his aching head slightly, Tony relaxed into the pillows cradling that very aching head, and closed his eyes. Reaching his kitchen Gibbs flipped open his cell and pressed the speed dial for Ducky’s home phone.

"Mallard residence, Doctor Mallard speaking," the softly accented voice came through the phone.

"Duck, it’s Gibbs," he began.

"Ah Jethro, how are you this fine evening?" Ducky asked.

"Like crap Duck. Is the nurse at your place on duty all night tonight?"

"Yes, this is Julia’s night on duty. Is there something wrong Jethro? Do I need to come into the office?"

"No, not the office, my place if you can. Oh and bring your bag Duck, I need you to look at something that may need a stitch or two."

"You haven’t hurt yourself again working on the boat have you?"

"No, it’s not me that needs your attention," Gibbs ended furtively. "Oh, and have you got something for pain, that won’t screw around too badly with somebody that’s had way too much to drink?"

"How much alcohol and what kind?"

"Six beers and half a bottle of bourbon. You know that bottle you gave me for Christmas last year."

"Ah," Ducky murmured in reply. "Over how long a time period?"

"Maybe two hours drinking time, and he slept about an hour. He’s also puked his guts up if that adds or subtracts anything in your thinking, Duck."

"Actually any information, Jethro, is helpful. I’m getting my coat and bag as we speak. Mr. Palmer has gone to get the car. Do you need us to stop and get anything else?"

"Not unless you’re going to need something to treat him with that you don’t have in your bag, or that isn’t here at my place."

"Very well Jethro. I’ll have Mr. Palmer stop at the 24 hour pharmacy and fill a prescription for pain medications for Anthony."

"Duck?!"

"Jethro, surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Actually, I was hoping," came Gibbs weary reply.

"Now, now my dear boy, we’ll discuss it when I get there. Put the kettle on for us, we’ll be there in about 20 minutes."


Shuddering with renewed nausea, Tony slowly rolled onto his side, wincing from the bruises that he was now feeling on his chest from when Gibbs had slammed him against the doorjamb. "Fuck," he cursed as he bit down on the already split lip, causing a fresh rush of blood into this mouth. "Shit, got to make it the bathroom; he’ll kill me if I puke here." Stumbling, reeling and swaying his way across the room, Tony made his way to the en-suite in Gibbs’ room.

"Idiot asshole can’t stay put when I tell him too," Gibbs angrily muttered upon entering his bedroom to find the huge bed empty of Tony’s body. "DiNozzo, where the hell are you?" Quickly putting down the things in his hands, Gibbs made his way to the bathroom from where a painful croak of 'here' had come. Looking in he found a still mostly-green Tony kneeling again in front of an open commode. "Still puking?"

"No, just heaving. There’s nothing left to puke up," Tony croaked as Gibbs squatted down next to him.

"What the hell did you do to your mouth now? You’re bleeding like hell again."

"Bit the lip making my way across the room, Boss."

"Stupid move DiNozzo, you should’ve waited until I got back."

"Didn’t want to puke all over the bed or the rugs Boss, thought that you’d kill me for that."

"For that, no." Gibbs raised his hand to gently caress the back of Tony’s aching head, instead of applying the usual slap. "For being fucking stupid and not knowing the difference between what's part of the job and what’s personal. But that’s another matter we’re going to talk about when you’re not hung-over.

"So you done here yet? I want to get you cleaned up a little, back into bed and that ice pack in place before Ducky and Palmer gets here."

"What?" Tony cried out in a panic. "Ducky and Palmer are coming here? NOW?"

"Yeah, and this is a problem why DiNozzo? You need looking at, that lip could use a couple of stitches, and there’s one hell of a bruise coming out from where you hit the doorjamb earlier. Easier to have Ducky come here than to explain it in an ER. Before either of us know it, they’d call the cops and I’d be looking at brig time for a domestic. So up now, that’s it."


Reaching for the nearby hanging thick navy washcloth, Gibbs ran the water until it was comfortably tepid and began to wash the dried blood from Tony’s face and upper chest. "Can’t you make the water warmer?" Tony asked.

"If the water’s warmer the lip will swell more and Ducky might not be able to sew it closed. Once you’re back in bed, there’s an ice pack for you to put on it, it’ll keep the swelling down."



Finishing up the impromptu wash up Gibbs easily loped the wash cloth into the small hamper that stood in the corner of his bathroom. "This is going to have to do you until Ducky says we can get you showered. Now this time stay in bed, unless I’m around to help you up. Last thing either of us need tonight is you breaking your damn neck on my floor."

"Jethro? Anthony?" Ducky’s voice called out.

"Upstairs, my bedroom Duck," Jethro replied as he again eased Tony to the bed. "Lift up DiNozzo," he ordered.

"Why?" Tony whined.

"Shorts are coming off, that’s why," Gibbs replied sharply as he pulled off the soft cotton boxers that DiNozzo wore.

"No, Ducky’s here," Tony protested weakly.

"Look DiNozzo, it’s not like Ducky’s never see a cock and balls before, remember he’s a doctor. For that matter, it’s not the first time he’s seen you buck assed naked. So what’s the problem now?"

"Naked in your bed?"

"So?"

"You need not upset yourself on my part Anthony," Ducky’s soft voice spoke out. "I am aware of the relationship between you and Jethro. And no, before you ask, Jethro did not tell me, I approached him," Ducky smiled fondly at the older before looking again at Tony. "Now do lay down, Anthony, and let me take a good look at you."

Standing up, Gibbs ceded his place on the bed beside Tony to Ducky. "My bag if you please Mr. Palmer, and if you would be so kind as to go to the kitchen and put on the coffee that Jethro started, and make us a pot of tea. Jethro keeps the teapot in the pantry and the tea in the green plastic container on the second shelf of his refrigerator. Kindly also take a quick look in both pantry and refrigerator and if you see anything that needs to be replaced please do so, there is an all night grocery store only two blocks . My wallet is in my coat pocket."

"Of course Dr. Mallard," his young assistant replied, hurriedly leaving the room to carry out his instructions.

"He calls you Dr. Mallard in bed, Duck?" Jethro smirked.

"No, of course not Jethro. His mouth is usually more gainfully employed when we are in bed," Ducky smirked back. "As is mine. Now how about I take a good look at you Anthony?"

Pushing the sheet that covered Tony down to his waist, Ducky gently ran his fingers along the deepening bruise that ran down the center of Tony’s chest. "Any pain with breathing, any abdominal pain besides of the residual soreness from vomiting?"

"No, nothing but my head’s, feeling like it’s about to fall off, and my lip’s stinging. I’ll feel the bruise tomorrow but that’s okay, I’ll deal with it tomorrow."

"Actually, that bruise is quite important my boy, and I will expect you to call me if it suddenly begins to feel worse. I’ve a prescription for you, very mild pain pills," Ducky began, a frown gathering on his face as Tony minutely shook his head no. "I’m also going to give you an injection in a moment, that should make you feel a great deal better Anthony, and you will not refuse it."

Jabbing the small needle quickly into Tony’s upper arm Ducky continued, "There, only a rather small prick wasn’t it? The medication should begin acting in about 10 minutes. A small dose of Demerol, with an anti-emetic to control your nausea, it will give you a good start on getting rid of the hangover. Do we need to discuss temperance Anthony?"

Shaking his head fractionally, Tony flushed brightly. "No, not really but the drinking, well it was a good idea at the time," he replied, lowering his eyes from the very perceptive gaze of the doctor.

"Yes, well we will discuss this some other time gentlemen, and I do mean both of you. Jethro, rub this in, it will increase the absorption rate of the medication," Ducky commanded as he reached into his bag for a small brown bottle. "Ah here it is. This will deaden your lip sufficiently for me to quickly suture it, and you were quite correct Jethro, he will require 2 sutures in it."

Wrapping all of the disposable medication equipment up, Ducky slowly stood, "All finished up my boy, there will be very minimal scarring there. You did well Jethro, keeping it from swelling; suturing a badly swollen lip is much more difficult."

"Tea and coffee Dr. Mallard," Palmer announced as he gingerly walked through the door, carrying a large tray with tea pot, coffee pot and cups.

"Excellent Mr. Palmer, gentlemen some refreshment," Ducky announced.


Finishing his tea, Ducky replaced his cup to the tray. "Wonderful, thank you Mr. Palmer; that was most refreshing. Anthony sleep now, Jethro he will need another two tablets in 6 hours, a light breakfast and lunch tomorrow. You are off call this weekend are you not? I will inform Thomas that the two of you are not to be disturbed until Monday the earliest. Jethro come see us out."

Stopping at the door Ducky turned to Gibbs, "Take care him, Jethro. Make sure the two of you clear up this misunderstanding before the two of you return to work."

"We’ll work on it Duck. Thanks for everything, I appreciate you coming over and looking over Tony."

"You are more than welcome, my boy. Just make sure that everything is resolved in an appropriate manner between the two of you for both of your sakes," replied Ducky as he followed Palmer out the door. "Oh, and Jethro?"

"Yeah Duck?"

"No fellatio until I remove Anthony’s sutures on Wednesday."

"Duck………"