While Tony was acting team leader, it seemed like everyone felt the need to tell him daily he wasn't Gibbs. Like that bit of information was some how news or had escaped his notice. What was surprising to Tony was the sudden realization upon Gibbs return that he didn't want to be Gibbs.

If the job could fracture someone like Gibbs, there was no doubt in Tony's mind that it would some day cause him to shatter. A steady accumulation of years of politics, pressure and disappointment was bound to catch up to him the same way it had Gibbs. When that happened, Tony wanted more than a beach in Mexico and a bottle of beer. When that happened, he wanted people willing to take the time to put him back together...not just sweep up the remains and dump them somewhere which he suspected was the best he could hope for from his current teammates.

The way McGee described Tony in his book certainly revealed what he thought of him. He definitely wouldn't be coming to see Tony if he ended up in a rubber room. And Ziva still seemed to lump people into two categories---those who were useful and those who were liabilities. Tony was fairly certain if he ever fell into the latter category, she wouldn't give him the time of day. Abby he wasn't so sure about. She'd stayed in touch with Gibbs---or at the very least had is phone number---but Tony knew he never ranked even close to where Gibbs was with her. They were friends, but he didn't know if their friendship was the sort that could handle that kind of destruction or not. Ducky might well be dead by then, depending on how long it took the job to break Tony.

And when the job did damage he couldn't repair on his own, Tony wasn't interested in people tracking him down because he was needed the way they had Gibbs. He didn't want to get called back because a teammate was being hunted by the FBI or a wrongfully accused killer was on the loose or because no one ever thought he'd really retire. No, if someone was going to call him back from the edge, Tony was hoping it would be because he was wanted...cared for...loved.

It was the reason he took time out from a hot case to spend time with Jeanne. For the first time in his life, Tony found himself enjoying a relationship that wasn't exclusively based on sex. She was bright and beautiful, articulate and funny. She understood his movie references; laughed at his jokes; thought spending an evening curled up on the couch watching a foreign film was a good night. After five years of being almost exclusively focused on his job, she added an entirely new dimension to his life---one that had absolutely nothing to do with NCIS or Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Her being separate from his job was why he didn't tell his teammates anything about her. He didn't want them to tease him about this, afraid it might somehow diminish what he'd found with her. He didn't want to explain that it had taken him a month to work up to having sex with her, something he rarely waited longer for than a second date.

And god, the sex had been worth the wait. She was certainly a match for him there as well. Willing and able to try new positions, to play and enjoy, to indulge his fantasies while exploring a few of her own.

Even more so than the sex was the fact that Tony got to spend the night. He got to wake up warm, comfortable and sated. That was definitely something he'd never done with Gibbs. With Gibbs it had always been something quick, messy and rarely gentle. Not that their encounters were unsatisfying or brutal, there was just a lack of softness. There was the absence of anything that suggested it might be more than scratching an itch. No whispered words of endearments, not shared laughter, no lingering kisses or cuddling.

It was funny to Tony that he hadn't really been aware ho much he missed those things until suddenly had them. It was wonderful and terrifying at the same time. He'd finally met someone who didn't think he was an idiot, who liked movies as much as he did, who didn't mind his job having crazy hours, who didn't care that he wasn't Gibbs. Hell, Jeanne had never even met Gibbs, and Tony wanted to keep it that way.

Tony shook his head, as he pulled into the Navy Yard parking lot. He wasn't sure what he was afraid of if they did meet. That he wouldn't measure up and Jeanne would share the same disappointment in his not being Gibbs everyone else seemed to have? That Gibbs might want him back?

Tony snorted. Like that would happen. The man had obviously wiped his memory clean of anything they'd done together or was still making a conscious effort to forget it. But if he offered? Tony bit his lip, unsure of what choice he'd make in that case. For all his relationship with Gibbs had lacked, it had it's good moments too. It was more than lust for Tony, but less than love. Maybe if they did things a little differently the next time?

Tony smacked the back of his own head. "You can piss in one and wish in the other, DiNozzo. You know which one will get wet."

Gibbs wasn't going to offer. Not if the way he was flirting with Colonel Mann was any indication. It was pretty clear his interest was firmly back on the hetero side of the scale. His time with Tony was more likely an aberration, not the norm. He reminded himself that Gibbs had been married four times. That should have clued him in a long time ago.

Tony sighed softly, turning off the Mustang. He'd been watching Gibbs since he'd gotten back---just making sure the man was really back up to the job. It had taken a few weeks but things certainly seemed to be to business as usual. Normal. Well as normal as things ever got at NCIS. Tony was pretty sure there wasn't another job on the planet where he could investigate a robotic Hum-vee killing its creator, or a guy getting blown up in a sand trap on a golf course, or a possible serial killer being found stuffed into a chimney.

Other than a little lying about his sideline undercover op, not saying anything about Jeanne and taking time away from work to enjoy life, the job was pretty much back to where it had been before Gibbs' temporary foray into retirement. It was hard to remember he'd ever been gone. Or that Tony had once been in charge.

Tony got out of the car, shivering a little in the early morning chill. Another benefit of spending the night at Jeanne's, her place was closer to the office. Although, that wasn't really the reason he was in before his usual time. She'd had an early shift at the hospital. So Tony had opted to get up with her, have a little breakfast together before they went their separate ways. It was another novel experience; one Tony found himself looking forward to doing again. He might finally understand what people were always talking about when they said 'quality time' together.

It wasn't until he was in the elevator that Tony realized he was unconsciously playing with the plastic hospital band that still graced his wrist. He laughed softly. He and Jeanne had both forgotten it was even there. He loved knowing her choice of the psych ward color had been deliberate. That she could and would tease him, lighthearted and harmless. It was another novel concept. Her humor didn't involve put downs or insults, no little digs---or at least it hadn't yet.

Tony strolled to his desk, not surprise to see no one else around. He sat down before riffling through the top drawer of his desk looking for a pair of scissors. Cutting off the band before anyone else noticed it would be a good idea. The last thing he wanted was anyone asking questions. Not that anyone would. Tony rolled his eyes, amused at himself for thinking anyone would even bother.

But Ziva seemed unnaturally interested in his business of late. She knew about his other phone, knew about him visiting the hospital if not the reason why. Tony knew better than to think it was because she cared about him. No...if he had to guess he'd say it was just her curious nature, or her need to make sure he didn't have any secrets she might be able to use against him later, or that he wasn't becoming a liability in the field. After all, it wasn't like she trusted him or respected him. They were good partners, but that was about it.

Why the hell would she care if he was having a few tests run? If she actually gave a damn she might have bothered to ask why anyone at the hospital would need a stool sample, or why he hadn't dropped it off on his way to work instead of waiting until later in the day?

Tony snickered. Like he'd have shit in a bag in his desk for hours? Right. As a distraction ploy though it worked like a charm. Who would have thought just mentioning shit would have gotten her to shut up? Was little miss Mossad so easily grossed out?

"Something funny, DiNozzo?"

Tony controlled his initial reaction to jump, turning the motion into a casual upward glance before rising to his feet, letting the scissors rest along his leg. Not quite hidden but no longer in plain view. He ignored the question, not wanting to explain.

"Morning, Boss."

Gibbs stopped at his desk, ever present coffee cup in hand, blue eyes assessing him. Tony had no idea what the former Marine was looking for, and since he hadn't actually done anything he needed to feel guilty about in the last twenty minutes, Tony found it easy to make and hold eye contact.

"You feeling okay?"

Tony blinked, surprised by the question. "Never better, Boss."

And he realized with some amazement just how true that statement was. He did feel good. Better than he had in months actually.

"Then what's with the wrist band?"

Tony looked down, and shrugged. He smiled easily when green eyes met blue again. "It's nothing."

"Ziva seems to think differently." Gibbs' gaze narrowed. If Tony didn't know better he'd think the man was genuinely concerned. No---it was far more likely Gibbs was worried his senior agent might not be up to the job. Nothing else about Tony ever mattered to Gibbs as far as he knew.

Tony arched an eyebrow. "She say something to you?"

"She was researching Y. Pestis last night."

Tony frowned. "What for?"

"Because you had it." Gibbs' tone was overly dry. The desk between created enough space to making reaching him difficult or Tony was sure Gibbs would have smacked the back of his head.

"I had the measles too." Tony retorted, being deliberately obtuse.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, "she said you were having tests done. It that true?"

Damn, Tony cursed mentally, should have known she'd tell someone that little lie. Fortunately, he didn't need to lie about having tests done to Gibbs--at least not directly. Tony straightened his spine, squaring his shoulders. "Ducky thought I should have a few tests done to make sure there were no lingering affects from my bout with the plague."

That was true---so far as it went. Those tests were done months ago. Not long after Gibbs had headed off to Mexico. It was how Tony had met Jeanne in the first place.

Gibbs frowned, definitely looking more worried. Tony was surprised. He hadn't really expected that.

"What did they say?" Gibbs nearly growled, clearly impatient that Tony hadn't volunteered more information immediately.

"I'm fine, Boss"

Tony wasn't sure why exactly he didn't make eye contact, but looked down and to the right. Maybe he wanted Gibbs to be concerned? Maybe he wanted to keep his options open for having an excuse to see Jeanne during working hours? Or maybe he really was lying and he wasn't fine. He felt better than he had in months, but Gibbs leaving and then returning the way he had hurt like hell. So maybe he wasn't fine---but he was getting better all the time.

"Tony?"

"If anything changes, you'll be the first to know, Boss." Tony looked at him for that one. If he was somehow unfit for duty or decided to quit his job, Gibbs would be the first person he'd tell. It was all the older man really needed to know or ever seemed to care about. Anything else wasn't something Gibbs needed to worry about.

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, before nodding slowly. He looked like he wanted to say more. The ping of the arriving elevator and the ringing of Gibbs' phone interrupted, effectively ending their conversation.

Tony bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning manically at his narrow escape. Literally saved by the bell, he thought with an internal chuckle. He was sure Gibbs would check with Ducky. And he was equally sure Ducky would tell him that Tony had tests done but not when. He was also certain that Ducky would tell Gibbs he was fine. Because that was what the tests did say.

Oh he had a little reduction in his lung capacity and would be more vulnerable to things like Bronchitis, but that was unlikely to impair his ability to do the job. His heart, liver and kidneys were as good as ever. Follow up visits were recommended---more because the doctors were curious to see how he recovered over time than because of any real need.

Tony cut off the bracelet, making sure Gibbs attention was elsewhere when he put it in his pocket. He didn't have anything real or tangible that he could point to that would draw to mind time shared with anyone else in his life, and he wanted what he had with Jeanne to be different. So he found himself keeping little mementoes of his time with her. He had a small box in the back of his closet that he kept them in. They were odd bits and pieces that individually meant nothing, but collectively represented benchmarks in their relationship.

Tony glanced over at Gibbs who was still on the phone. It wasn't easy keeping secrets and he hated to lie to Gibbs...but for now, it felt right to do it. The undercover op was sanctioned by orders, and his personal life was his own damn business.

Tony nodded to himself. He wasn't waiting for someone else to lead the way. He was finding his own way, one step at a time. He was determined to have a life outside of NCIS. Five years was long enough to have committed 24/7 to the job---to Gibbs--- with no real consideration or even a compliment for his effort.

He wanted more there to be more to his life than the job, more than just a boat in his basement for company, and something more waiting for him when he shattered than a deserted beach front in Mexico. If Gibbs didn't like it, that was just too damn bad. Tony didn't want to be Gibbs any more.