Dinner for Lundy and Tony was delivered by a black man who towered over Gibbs by more than a foot. That impressive height was matched by a solid bulk of muscle and bone with very little fat. Gibbs couldn’t help mentally comparing him to the front line of a major league football team, and finding them lacking.
He nearly choked on his coffee when LaFiamma greeted the mountain of a man by calling him ‘Chicken’. When Tony and Lundy greeted him the same way, Gibbs realized ‘Chicken’ was evidently a moniker the man didn’t object to. He was sure there was a story behind the name, there had to be, but he refrained from asking.
“Joe said y’all was in dire need of some good home cooking.” The big man held up a clear plastic bag that obviously held several small containers. The scent wafting from what he carried made Gibbs’ stomach rumble in appreciation. He hadn’t consumed more than coffee all day.
Ignoring his stomach with ease of long practice, Gibbs silently noted Chicken had made no effort to disguise what he was carrying. Food from outside the hospital was against policy. They had rules about things like that for a reason---or so Ducky had always insisted on telling him. But Gibbs couldn’t see anyone having balls enough to tell Chicken to his face he couldn’t bring anything he wanted into the hospital. Who the hell was going to take on a guy his size over some food? It was probably why LaFiamma had him bring it in the first place.
“What did you bring us?” Lundy asked, sniffing appreciatively.
“Chicken gumbo and a little corn bread.” Chicken smiled, bright white teeth a startling contrast to his ebony skin. “Momma always said it was good for what ailed you.”
If Lundy and Tony felt slighted for not being able to actually pick what they got for dinner, they didn’t mention it. Gibbs was undeniably grateful Chicken brought enough for him and LaFiamma as well. The gumbo tasted every bit as good as it smelled, and Gibbs dug into it with gusto.
“Not as hot as you usually make it,” Lundy commented, sounding mildly disappointed, as he ate with neat, careful movements.
“Know you prefer it spicier, but I didn’t think either o’ you were up to the usual,” the big man said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. “Specially not Slick since he hasn’t had anythin’ solid in a few days.”
Tony rolled his eyes. Gibbs noticed that like Lundy, Tony was eating with more care than he usually did. The older man wasn’t sure they were simply savoring the meal or physically incapable of eating with more speed.
Tony put down his spoon and small container, leaving both on the serving tray that crossed his bed. The bowl was only half empty and Gibbs wanted to insist he finish it, but he didn’t think pushing would help. Chicken was right. Tony hadn’t eaten anything for several days. It would take some time for his appetite to return to normal.
“Something wrong with the gumbo, Tony?”
“Food’s great…really.” Tony took a breath, wincing as he did so. “It’s good.”
“But you ain’t eatin’ it all.” Chicken argued, expression pensive. “Maybe I should have brought you something else. I know gumbo isn’t your favorite, but you liked it a lot the last time I made it, so I thought since Joey said y’all could eat--”
“Chicken, it’s good.” Tony insisted, cutting him off. “I’m just…not hungry.”
“Don’t think I’ve heard you ever say that before.” Chicken’s frown deepened. “You okay?”
Tony smiled. “I’m fine.”
Gibbs pursed his lips, wanting to argue that Tony wasn’t ‘fine’. The fact that Tony didn’t have enough wind to easily finish a few short sentences and didn’t inhale his meal the way he usually did already made Gibbs’ case. Not that Tony would ever see it that way. Gibbs couldn’t decide if he liked Tony’s optimism or wanted to smack him for not being realistic. He just sighed and opted to let it go since there was little he could do about it.
Chicken smiled back at Tony, nodding toward Gibbs, Lundy and then LaFiamma. “Thinkin’ it’s not me you gotta convince when you start spoutin’ off about being fine.”
Tony smirked. “They worry too much.”
“Hard not to worry over the ones you care about,” Chicken said, obvious sympathy and concern in his deep basso voice.
“Yeah, I know,” Tony admitted quietly, looking away as color warmed his cheeks. “Thanks for…dinner. I didn’t…do it…justice, but I appreciate"“
“Don’t fret about that now,” Chicken told him, waving a large hand in a dismissive gesture. “That gumbo will keep, so if you get hungry later, jus’ have the nurses warm it up. I know they have themselves a refrigerator and microwave in this joint somewhere.”
“Doctor’s lounge has both,” LaFiamma confirmed.
“Joey’s already been using their stuff.” Lundy said with a sly grin. “Pretty damn sure there was some fancy bottled water you had that didn’t come from a vending machine.”
LaFiamma shrugged, looking unrepentant. “Gibbs is the one who ate their cookies.”
Gibbs blinked. How in the hell did LaFiamma know about that? He wasn’t there when Gibbs helped himself.
“You stole cookies?” Tony asked him, green eyes bright with amusement. “Boss…I didn’t…know you were…a thief.”
“I didn’t steal them.” Gibbs defended himself. “They were free for the taking.” Maybe not to the public at large, but they were still free.
“And you didn’t bring us any?” Lundy said, his lips forming a playful pout. “Shame on you.”
Gibbs nearly retorted that Tony had been in a coma and Lundy was unconscious in another room when he’d taken the cookies, but stopped himself just in time. Comments like that would just ruin the mood; he liked seeing Tony amused and Lundy playful, even if it was at his expense.
“They weren’t that good.” Gibbs told them. “Not worth sharing.”
“No one ever shares crappy cookies. Right.” Lundy smirked. “Tell me another one.”
“Cookies tainted with guilt,” LaFiamma shook his head, blue eyes warm with good humor. “Can’t imagine that would taste good.”
“Guilt?” Gibbs snorted. “I was doing them a favor by eating those before some innocent bystander could be taken in by them.”
“Taking one for the team, were you?” Lundy asked, snickering. “If that’s the case I’m thinking I need to study up on what that means because I don’t remember ever having taking one and having it be a good thing.”
“Could be he’s just working his way up to taking candy from babies.” LaFiamma offered, grinning. “It’s not as easy as Tony makes it look.”
Tony laughed softly. Gibbs held his breath, worried Tony would start coughing. He released it in a relieved sigh when Tony didn’t seem to have any trouble. Even though he was still having some minor difficulty speaking, the earlier breathing exercises must have helped a little.
“I told you I didn’t take it.” Tony pointed a finger at LaFiamma. “She offered.”
“She didn’t offer me any.”
“That’s because…I’m her favorite.” Tony’s smile was smug.
“You’re only her favorite because you bribed her with crayons.”
The reference of crayons clued Gibbs into who they were talking about. It had to be Mendez’s niece. Tony’s partner had mentioned something about his opinion on her artwork being the only one that mattered and she’d be drawing him some sort of picture for him with crayons Tony had gotten her.
“Don’t worry, Joe, you’re still my favorite,” Lundy said with a wink and a smile.
“Pretty sure he bribed you with something better than crayons,” Chicken said, leering and then laughing heartily when both Lundy and LaFiamma blushed.
“You on the force too?” Gibbs asked, curious as to how Chicken fit since he wasn’t on their team but clearly knew Lundy and LaFiamma were a couple and was obviously a good friend to Tony.
“Me, a cop?” Chicken laughed again. “Hell, no. I run a bar restaurant not far from the station.”
“Best damn barbeque in Houston,” Lundy stated proudly, his tone more than a little wistful. The gumbo had been good, and while he hadn’t complained, it was obvious Lundy would have preferred something else.
“It’s where we…hang out.” Tony told Gibbs.
Gibbs nodded. Tony had mentioned that he and his teammates regularly went somewhere to have a beer or two, play pool or poker, and just relax together. Gibbs was sure Tony had told him the name of the place, but he’d forgotten focusing more on what Tony had to say about what he’d done there and with whom than on where he’d been.
His nod must have been some sort of invitation for Lundy and LaFiamma to tell him all about Chicken’s place. Gibbs found himself laughing out loud at their stories. He had no trouble picturing an impromptu karaoke night, drunken line dancing, or mildly risqué birthday parties. It sounded like fun.
They didn’t go into detail, but Gibbs knew it wasn’t just for good times they went to Chicken’s. He had a feeling the bar saw as much bad as it did good. He was glad Tony had somewhere like that to retreat to. He needed more than a boat in the basement and some bourbon to get through the rough times.
Chicken left half an hour later needing to get back to work, promising to come return tomorrow with more food. Gibbs was looking forward to eating whatever the man brought. He couldn’t remember eating anything so good. He hoped that Tony’s appetite would be as tempted by what Chicken brought as his was.
A soft knock at the door came not long after Chicken left. LaFiamma’s hand rested on his gun, but he didn’t draw it. Lundy’s hand slipped beneath the covers and Gibbs knew he was fingering a weapon too. He half expected Tony to be doing the same, but Tony just looked expectantly at the door. Curiosity usually outweighed caution for Tony.
Some day, when they were alone, Gibbs was going to ask Tony why Lundy and LaFiamma had such an abundance of caution. The current circumstances didn’t warrant the level of vigilance they’d displayed. Neither struck him as the kind of men to be wary without reason.
“Hey, Boss,” McGee greeted him as he stepped through the door.
“McGee.” Gibbs nodded. Seeing the younger agent made him aware of just how much time had passed. His time on the roof with LaFiamma and then eating dinner had taken longer than he realized.
He hoped McGee had made some headway on the case, but didn’t honestly expect him to have gotten very far. He opened his mouth to ask for a status report but realized McGee’s eyes had moved beyond him to seek out Tony. McGee smiled when he saw Tony looking back at him.
“Tony, hey, you’re awake.”
“With observational skills like that…Gibbs might make a detective out of you yet…McGee.” Tony’s grin took any sting out of the comment.
McGee rolled his eyes. “Houston hasn’t improved your sense of humor any.”
“Made me a better…gamer though,” Tony’s grin broadened. “Kicked your ass…elflord.”
McGee shot him a dirty look. “That doesn’t count.”
“Why not?” Tony asked, still grinning.
“You cheated.”
“Hah…can’t cheat and you…know it.”
The rest of what they had to say didn’t make any sense to Gibbs. He just let them fight it out, enjoying the sharp witted banter that had been absent from the squad room since Tony left. He could wait on the status report.
He didn’t pay attention to what they were saying but he did keep an eye on Tony. The raspy, wheezing quality in his voice seemed to be getting worse to Gibbs. Judging by the looks on LaFiamma and Lundy’s faces they heard the same thing. He didn’t want to cut McGee’s time with Tony short, but he didn’t want Tony to over do it either. He made eye contact with LaFiamma, silently asking for his opinion. To his surprise LaFiamma neatly signed the words ‘ten minutes, no more’. Tony had told him LaFiamma spoke several languages but ASL wasn’t one he’d mentioned.
They never had a chance to get to the self-appointed deadline. A nurse came into the room a moment later, a soft knock at the door announcing her a second before she entered. Gibbs wondered if it was the guard who knocked or if she’d gotten the same reception he had for not knocking.
She smiled brightly, practically skipping into the room, far more chipper than Gibbs cared for. Curly dark hair bounced around her shoulders with every movement she made. Her nails were pained hot pink, and her make-up was flawless. She reminded him of a high school cheerleader. Her high pitched voice made Gibbs wince. Nails on a chalkboard or the squeaking of rusty hinges came to mind.
Her name tag indicated her name was ‘Mitzy’. Gibbs couldn’t help thinking the name would have been more appropriate for a small yappy dog. But then given Mitzy’s overall demeanor and voice maybe the name suited her as well.
“I’ve got your night time medications.” Her tone made it sound like she was passing out candy to small children.
“What are they?” LaFiamma asked, neither Lundy nor Tony moving to take what was offered until Mitzy answered him.
He nodded when she easily rattled off what was in the tiny plastic cups. Gibbs had no idea what the medications were or even what they were supposed to be taking, but obviously LaFiamma did.
Lundy and Tony both took the cups, dry swallowing the pills easily. Clearly neither man wanted to say anything that might encourage her to talk more or stay longer.
The obvious relief in Tony’s eyes that she wasn’t carrying anything else was telling. He likely wasn’t up to another round of breathing exercises even if he wasn’t willing to admit that out loud.
“I need to empty your catheter bags.”
Gibbs frowned wondering how she could sound so happy about that. He shook his head. He wanted the duty nurse from last night. She’d been low key, quiet, gentle and obviously competent. He liked her.
“After that, I’ll do a few routine checks.” She smiled, still bright and chipper. Gibbs could see Lundy and LaFiamma trading looks. McGee and Tony traded similar ones. Gibbs coughed to hide the chuckle that almost escaped when he realized everyone in the room was thinking the same thing.
Mitzy did her job apparently oblivious to the fact that not one had much to say to her. She patted the blankets on Tony’s bed as she finished up.
“There you are. All set for the night. If you need anything just hit the call button.”
She bounced out of the room. Gibbs stared at the closed door. “Please tell me she’s not on duty all night.”
“God, I hope not,” LaFiamma grimaced.
“Might want to get that girl some WD-40 for her voice.” Lundy stated dryly. “Either that or get her a job cutting glass.”
Tony’s chuckle at his comments morphed into a cough. It didn’t turn into a fit or leave him breathless but he was grimacing in pain when he finished. Gibbs hoped whatever painkillers Mitzy had given him worked fast.
Just a few minutes later, Tony’s eyes drifted closed and he seemed on the verge of falling asleep when he opened them again. Gibbs knew he was fighting it. He’d done the same thing when he had the plague. Any time there was someone around, Tony struggled to stay awake. Gibbs thought it was a by product of Tony’s gregarious nature, or simply the fear he might miss out on something that kept him from willingly nodding off with other people around.
He knew if he and McGee left, Tony would probably fall asleep within minutes. Why LaFiamma and Lundy didn’t create the same need to stay awake and alert, Gibbs really didn’t want to examine closely.
He nodded to LaFiamma before moving closer to Tony’s bed letting him know he would handle this. He leaned down to whisper. “I’m going to step outside and talk to McGee for a bit.”
“You can…talk here,” Tony mumbled.
“Don’t want to bother Lundy.” Gibbs said. It was a cheap ploy to use Tony’s affection and concern for the other man, but at this point, Gibbs would use whatever worked. “Not sure he’d agree with me, but I think he could do with a little rest.”
“He’s stubborn.”
He’s not the only one, Gibbs thought with a smile. He ran his fingers through Tony’s hair in a gentle caress watching as Tony’s breathing deepened and evened out. Satisfied that Tony was finally starting to give into the demands his wounded body was making, Gibbs moved away. He stopped when Tony grabbed his hand, sleepy green eyes struggling to open enough to meet his.
“You’re..coming..back, right?”
Gibbs squeezed his hand. “Yeah, I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” Tony let go.
Gibbs looked at McGee and pointed to the door. They stepped out into the hall and walked down to the small lounge.
“Status report, McGee.”
“Didn’t get any further with the information we had.” There was a clear apology in McGee’s tone. “But I was able to track down the case file you asked me to research. It was never scanned into the database, but the file clerks found the hard copy. It’s being overnighted. We should have it in the morning.”
Gibbs nodded. “In the morning, I want you to track down a former NCIS agent.”
McGee arched an eyebrow. “The other guy on the case with you and Shepard, William Decker.”
Gibbs smiled. It wasn’t a question. Clearly the younger agent was learning to anticipate. “Very good, McGee.”
“I already know where he is, Boss.”
“Oh?”
“I checked my e-mail before I left the police station. William Decker died yesterday. His funeral is scheduled for the day after tomorrow.”
That bit of information made Gibbs’ gut clench. It had to be more than just coincidental. Decker was off the radar for more than a decade and now suddenly he was dead.
“How did he die?”
“Heart attack.”
Gibbs’ jaw clenched. It wasn’t hard to fake a heart attack. There were any number of drugs and at least a dozen poisons that could mimic a natural heart attack.
“Get a copy of the autopsy report for Ducky to"“
“Already asked for it, Boss. Should have it in the morning too.”
“Good.”
“Something else you should know, Boss.”
“What?”
McGee licked his lips nervously. “The Director is going to attend Decker’s funeral.”
Gibbs cursed. She could have a perfectly legitimate reason for going. They’d worked together. He was a decorated NCIS agent. But Gibbs’ gut was screaming at him that it was more. It had to be. Her use of the old alias to betray Kort, the CIA’s involvement, her own poor health…all of it made him sure nothing that happened had been simply coincidental. LaFiamma was right---Shepard had been plotting and planning for a long time. And he’d been an unknowing party to it.
What worried Gibbs was what else she might have done along the way. Had she been involved in Decker’s death? What other skeletons were in the closet he didn’t know about? What other time bombs were waiting to blow up in their faces?
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There wasn’t much he could do tonight. The files wouldn’t arrive until morning. Then they’d have a chance to review the information, and make the right connections. LaFiamma said he’d seen Shepard’s file. There might be more they could use within it. They needed to fill in as many of the pieces as possible before confronting Shepard, especially if they wanted any sort of formal charges to stick.
“Go to the hotel, McGee. Get some sleep. I want you and the others back here first thing in the morning.”
“On it, Boss.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs meets another of Tony's friends in Houston, and finds out Decker's dead.