Chapter fourteen
Gibbs lost himself in Tony’s voice as he continued the Jack London story. Tony had brought a book of 20 great American short stories, and they were up to number four; To Build a Fire. He enjoyed listening to the story from the Yukon, but knew the real pleasure was having Tony read to him.
Shifting slightly, he pulled Tony closer. The other man let out a soft, almost purring sound, before resuming the tale. Gibbs’ head didn’t hurt as much as it had, just a dull ache behind the eyes. This was something he had missed. Companionship, someone to share everyday life with. Having breakfast, a hand with the boat, maybe enjoy a beer in the garden while waiting for the grill to heat up. The first cup of coffee in the morning. Coffee… Oh, God…He groaned loudly.
“What? Does your leg hurt?” Tony had turned around to look at him, concern shining through in his eyes.
“No…it’s nothing.”
“Come on, Jethro, that wasn’t nothing. You need me to get your pills for you? It’s been a few hours since you had one.”
Gibbs relented, “I just thought about that first cup of coffee in the morning.”
Tony laughed out loud, “Sorry, “he gasped, “but you’ve got it bad, Jethro, really bad.”
Gibbs lightly slapped his head, before squeezing his neck affectionately. “You’ll just have to find something to take my mind off coffee, won’t you?”
A mischievous smile formed on Tony’s face. “I’ll think of something, you just wait and see.”
He picked up his book and continued reading. Gibbs closed his eyes and listened again, pushing all thoughts of Jenny and her scheming to the back of his head. He would not let her ruin this moment, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this at ease in someone else’s company.
Half an hour later Tony got up and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with a bowl of ice cream and two spoons. “Time for a snack,” he declared, handing one spoon to Gibbs.
“Ice cream?” Gibbs cocked an eyebrow.
“Nope, not just ice cream, coffee flavored ice cream. Not the real thing, I know, but I thought you might like it.”
“No, you didn’t…You’re serious? Coffee flavored ice cream?” Gibbs knew he had a goofy smile on his face and he didn’t care. Dipping into the cappuccino colored treat, he took a bite, savoring the flavor before leaning in for a kiss.
“You almost taste like yourself again,” Tony sighed. Opening his lips, he sucked Gibbs’ tongue into his own mouth, before exploring Gibbs’; seemingly wanting to taste every part of that delectable mouth he could reach.
The evening passed quietly. After finishing the Jack London story, they spent the rest of the night in companionable silence. About an hour later, Gibbs found he was tired. Although he’d slept most of the day, now, nearing eleven, he was ready to venture to bed. He looked at Tony who was dosing quietly beside him. He was listening to music on his IPod, not wanting to aggravate Gibbs’ headache.
The bed downstairs suddenly seemed very tempting. He could use the toilet by the back door, and the thought of not having to deal with the stairs was very alluring. Nudging Tony, he got his attention.
“You ready for bed?”
“Yeah, you wanna go upstairs, or stay here?”
“I think I’d like to stay here tonight. Is there room for two in there?”
“If you’re hogging the bed, I’ll just kick you out,” Tony grinned.
“Deal,” Gibbs chuckled. “Help me up, will ya?”
They made their way over to the downstairs toilet, where Tony left him to his own. It was set up for Gibbs, should he need it. He found an extra toothbrush and fresh t-shirts on a stool by the sink. Gibbs could hear Tony return to the living room, turning off the lights and locking the French doors leading into the back garden.
When he made his way into the den, Tony was pulling down the covers. He’d turned on a small lamp on a bedside table, which cast a warm glow across the bed. The bed was much smaller than the one upstairs, but they would be fine for one night.
Tony went to stand behind him, holding him tight for a moment, before helping him out of his robe. Gibbs glanced down at his thigh, wincing when he saw the long scar running down the upper part of his left leg. It was stapled, a neat row of silver colored metal holding his wound together. To Gibbs’ relief, his leg looked less swollen and he was grateful he could see progress. There would be an end to this. He’d kept up his end of the deal with Dr North, doing his exercises, taking his medication and keeping off his leg, not trying to do too much, too soon.
It wasn’t all about getting back to work. He wanted to be able to lead a full life with Tony, to go sailing, be as active as his busted knee allowed. Right now it didn’t bother him too much, and he liked to keep it that way.
“You with me? Tony murmured into his ear. He realized he’d been lost in thought for a while.
“Yeah,” he said, drawing the younger man closer. His leg throbbed, reminding him he needed to get off his feet.
“C’mon, I need to lie down.” Tony handed him two painkillers and a glass of water, looking somewhat surprised when he downed both without protest.
“I told you I can play nice,“ he said, “you don’t have to look so surprised. I’ve been a good boy.”
“Yeah,“ Tony said, kissing him lightly, “You better. I want you to get well so you can be a very, very bad boy later.“
They got into bed and Tony snuggled close, slinging a leg over Gibbs’, needing to be as intimate as possible, without hurting him. Gibbs placed a kiss in Tony’s hair, feeling himself drift off to sleep, an overwhelming sense of calm enveloping him.
******
Ziva made herself a cup of tea and returned to the living room. Her apartment was not very big, but she liked it. It was starting to feel a bit like home, not just a place where she slept after work. The room was simply decorated. She’d opted to buy new furniture; in lieu of having hers shipped from Israel. She’d wanted a fresh start, to not be surrounded by too many objects that reminded her of her family.
A black leather couch faced the windows, giving a view of the park by her building. Colorful throw pillows added a splash of color and were comfortable to snuggle into when she wanted to read a book or watch some TV. She still struggled sometimes with American colloquialisms, but she wanted to get better, if nothing else to put a stop to Tony’s teasing.
On the wall behind her she’d hung a framed photograph of a sunset by the sea, reminding Ziva of a vacation she had a few years back, with two close friends. A side table held trinkets from home. A beautifully carved box she’d gotten from her sister when they were growing up, some family photos and a Tiffany lamp she’d inherited from an aunt. Cream-colored walls and hardwood floors added warmth and a colorful Persian rug under the coffee table completed the look.
Ziva’d thought a lot about the events of the past few days. She still had this nagging feeling she was missing an important clue. There was something about the rest of the team that was eluding her. Pushing those thoughts aside for now, she focused on the more serious business at hand, Director Shepard. Their confrontation at dinner had been uncomfortable, but she wasn’t really worried about her assignment. As long as her father thought she’d be useful for Mossad here, they would not call her home, she was certain of that. But, as she had said to Jenny, the Director was not the only one with contacts, and she intended to use them.
The doorbell brought her back to the here and now. She got up from the couch and walked to her front door. As always, she checked who it was before opening up. A dark-haired man in his thirties waited outside her door, and she could see another one waiting further down the hall. They exchanged a few words in Hebrew before he handed her a thick manila envelope. He nodded goodbye and left. Ziva locked the door securely behind her before returning to her bedroom. She had a desk in one corner, with a laptop and a web cam. She preferred keeping in touch with her friends that way, needed to see them as well as talk to them, as most of them were halfway around the world.
Clearing away her laptop, Ziva plopped into her chair and quickly opened the envelope revealing a single file inside. She sat for a moment looking at the black file in front of her, the Mossad insignia embossed in silver on the front page. Taking a deep breath, she opened it, perusing the content inside, noting the words ‘for your eyes only’ written in Hebrew at the top of page one. A clear plastic folder held several pictures, and she shook them out. Picking up the first of the bunch, Ziva looked at the smiling face of Jenny Shepard, Director of NCIS.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs and Tony spend a quiet evening at home, while Ziva calls in a favor.
Chapter End Notes:
Don't own them, just having so much fun :)