Tony drove home to his empty apartment, where he did his laundry and sat on his sofa with a bowl of soup from a can, heated in the microwave, and watched The Maltese Falcon. Lying in his too-large bed on cool Egyptian cotton sheets, trying to sleep, Tony held the memory of that next time promise together with the smiles and dancing eyes of Gibbs' obvious enjoyment over the past couple of days against his sudden loneliness. All too soon, though, his alarm clock blared and it was Monday morning; time to go to work.
Tony made it all the way up to the bullpen before realising that Little Anthony, having come out to play for the weekend, was clearly back on strike. No morning wood to take care of, and he hadn't had so much as a dirty thought while he'd been trying to get to sleep, let alone an erection, and wasn't that strange, since masturbation was one of his favorite ways to relax. Well, his favorite way to relax by himself. Although given how long it had been since he'd 'relaxed' with anyone else, he figured he should probably give in and put masturbation at the top of his list without any qualification.
Without his usual cheery smile, he dropped his backpack off at his desk, together with his jacket, and checked to make sure they hadn't had a case come in so far. By the time any of the rest of the team arrived, Tony had returned a couple of calls, made an appointment to visit Lieutenant Rogers at Bethesda and picked up coffee and pastries. The morning passed in a blizzard of paperwork and cold case reviews, while Gibbs, looking about as well rested as Tony felt, took his coffee up to his usual Monday morning meeting with the director, then stomped back down and went straight into the elevator.
'What's up with him?' Tim asked once the doors had safely closed behind the grumpy agent.
Tony shrugged. 'Probably just the director rubbing him up the wrong way, as usual.'
'I wonder what he got up to last weekend,' Ziva said from the desk on the other side of him. 'It could be that whatever it was didn't go as he'd planned.'
'Now what makes you say that, Zeevah?' Tony drawled, swinging round in his chair to face her. 'Your own plans go awry?'
'My plans went without a pick up,' Ziva said snippily.
'Without a hitch,' Tony corrected. 'Then why would you assume the boss had any plans, let alone that they went wrong?'
Tim chimed in. 'He's not exactly noted for having a busy social life.'
'You know, when Gibbs is all Monday-morningish, it's probably not wise to pick Monday morning to have a team discussion about his social life,' Tony said, getting to his feet. 'You know how good he is at sneaking up at the worst possible time. I, for one, don't want that headslap.'
'Where are you going?' Ziva asked. 'Gibbs will not be pleased if he returns and you are not at your desk.'
'Say hi to Abby, maybe call in on Ducky,' Tony said. 'At least they won't give me the mother of all headaches.' He gave them a cheery wave and made a beeline for the elevator. When the doors opened on the lab level, he could hear Abby's music pounding away. Respecting his intention not to go looking for a headache, Tony stayed in the elevator and went down to Autopsy instead.
It was quiet inside, but Tony could hear voices coming from Ducky's office, where the door was ajar. One was Gibbs and he didn't sound too happy.
'I trust you to tell me when there's something wrong with one of my team,' Gibbs snapped. Tony winced; he sounded frustrated. As quietly as he could, he made his way closer to the door.
'My dear Jethro, had I any concerns whatsoever about his ability to do his job, I would have told you immediately, but this is absolutely nothing to do with you. As his physician, I have to respect doctor-patient confidentiality.' Ducky sounded equally as frustrated.
'Don't give me that! I want to know what's wrong with Tony!' Gibbs roared.
'Shit!' Tony mouthed, running a hand through his hair. Gibbs was about a minute away from blowing his top and Tony knew exactly who he'd come looking for when that happened. It looked as though that headache was inevitable.
'I don't think there is anything wrong with Anthony,' Ducky said icily. 'And I would appreciate it if you didn't take that tone with me, Jethro. I have my suspicions, but until I get those test results back, I'm not prepared to say anything to anyone. And when I do get the results through, the person I will talk to about them is Anthony because it is his business and not yours. I suggest if you want to know, you ask him directly.'
'Ducky...' Gibbs growled. 'All Tony will say is that it's personal.'
Tony sighed quietly and leaned against the wall. He should have known Gibbs wouldn't leave it alone; it wasn't in his nature.
'I'm rather surprised he said anything at all.'
'Didn't have a choice. Doctor Childs made a comment when he went to take blood,' Gibbs confessed.
'Ah! I take it this would be the same Doctor Childs whose research Abigail found so enthralling?'
Grudgingly, Gibbs admitted it. 'We went up to see him, find out what's in store for Lieutenant Rogers.'
'Not good, I take it?' Ducky's voice was full of sympathy. 'The poor woman. I can't imagine what that must feel like, to have one's entire life thrown into chaos in such a manner.'
'Yeah.'
'So, what, the good doctor is testing you and Anthony to see if you are imprinted? Well, I've always thought you complement each other very well. Better than any of those ex-wives of yours, Jethro.' Ducky mused. 'And Anthony is a fine young man. There's a lot more to him than he lets most people see, but I suspect you are very well aware of that, aren't you?'
'I'm not gay,' Gibbs said sharply.
'Neither was the poor lieutenant,' Ducky said softly. 'Tell me, Jethro, when you engage in a little onanism, whose is the face that springs to mind?'
'That's none of your damn business, Ducky. And it doesn't matter, because I'm not imprinted. Don't you think I'd have noticed, back when I first hired DiNozzo?'
'My dear Jethro, you aren't the most astute when it comes to your emotions.' Tony could have sworn Ducky was smiling.
'Well if I've been blind, so has DiNozzo. It's quite clear he's getting past the goodnight kiss on the cheek stage with all those dates of his,' Gibbs said.
'If you say so, Jethro. Yes, well, as entertaining as this has been, I do actually have work I should be doing. If you don't mind?'
'Shit!' Tony muttered and scampered as quickly and quietly as possible towards the door, before turning and calling, 'Ducky? You around?' just as Gibbs emerged from the office. The older man's eyes narrowed and he glared at Tony. 'So this is where you've been hiding, huh?' Tony asked cheerfully, stepping aside to let Gibbs past. Without breaking stride, Gibbs swatted him hard around the back of the head. 'Ow! What was that for?'
'Don't eavesdrop,' Gibbs said without looking round.
'How does he do that?' Tony asked, rubbing his sore head. He stared resentfully after his boss, then sighed and let his hand fall to his side. He stuck his head round the doorway to Ducky's office. 'Hey, Ducky. Good weekend?'
'Very. Mother was having one of her more lucid spells when I visited and I attended a wonderful concert with a rather charming young coroner called Lucy. It was a local amateur orchestra, but the standard was really very high. They played Brahms and Schubert and you have absolutely no interest in the program, do you, my dear boy?' Ducky said with a sigh. 'Do come in and sit down.'
'I'd better head upstairs before Gibbs really gets mad,' Tony said, then paused. 'You know, if Gibbs ever had imprinted, it would have been on Shannon,' he said softly. 'Just... drop it, okay?'
'As you wish, Anthony. As you wish,' Ducky murmured.
Tony took his headache and went back upstairs.
Gibbs was in a foul mood the rest of the day. If Tony hadn't been there too, he'd never have believed Gibbs had spent the weekend enjoying himself. News of the kidnapping of the daughter of a naval officer came in around four, but by four thirty, the kidnapper was found to be the officer's younger brother, visiting from out of town and wanting to treat his niece to ice cream. In all, it was a relief to escape the oppressive atmosphere in the office when Gibbs let them go for the day.
Four in the morning brought another call: this time, it was a real case. A car found by the side of the road, the interior drenched in blood. The car's plates were registered to Carl Drevitt, a civilian contractor who had worked for the Navy for the past eight years. There was no one at his house, but there were clear signs of a struggle.
It took three long days to unravel a trail of blackmail, compromised accounts and illicit affairs. A significant proportion of the blood in the car belonged to Drevitt's dog, a mastiff called Berkeley; the rest belonged to Drevitt. His boyfriend, a marine, turned up as a John Doe in one of the local hospitals, badly beaten and with a couple of nasty stab wounds. Tony spent a frustrating day interviewing the rest of the company the marine, Pete Levine, was stationed with in case this was a hate crime, only for McGee to uncover a computer trail leading right to a crime syndicate which specialised in government construction work, supplying labor and materials and making sure no unforeseen 'accidents' happened on site.
It meant someone was going to have to go in undercover to the three sites the syndicate was rumored to be involved in at the moment. Worse, it meant working with the FBI. Fornell wasn't happy about NCIS's involvement in what was a long-running FBI investigation. Gibbs wasn't happy about the FBI's insistence on doing things their way, not when it interfered with finding out what had happened to the missing Drevitt.
And Tony definitely wasn't happy. He wasn't happy about working with the Feebs, with Fornell, with going undercover yet again. He wasn't happy because Gibbs wasn't happy and when Gibbs wasn't happy, he made sure everyone else was unhappy with him. But mostly, he wasn't happy because right after a morning spent in the Director's office with Fornell, Gibbs and Vance, he'd made it back to his desk only for his cell phone to ring.
'DiNozzo's House of Pleasure, how may I please you? ... Oh, hi Doctor Childs... No, now's not a great time, but it's about the only time I have, so talk away...' He turned his back on the rest of the office, aware that with the mention of 'doctor', McGee and Ziva were taking an interest in the conversation. 'What? No, that's not possible! Are you sure that's right? ... Hold on a minute, I'm just going to go somewhere more private.' He pushed his chair away from the desk and hurried to the conference room, ignoring his teammates' stares.
Shutting the door behind him and leaning against it, Tony said, 'I'm back. Sorry about that. You're certain we're imprinted? I mean, I've worked with Gibbs for almost six years now, and we're not in any kind of a relationship other than a work one... Physical contact? We have hand to hand training sessions in the gym once a week. Other than that, the only time there's any contact between us is when I mess up and Gibbs slaps the back of my head... Yeah, I suppose I do miss it when he doesn't headslap me... And yeah, I suppose this explains a couple of things about my non-existant love-life. But really?'
He sighed. 'Sorry, thanks for letting me know. What happens if we keep things the way they are? I mean, there's absolutely no sign Gibbs wants anything from me, let alone a relationship... I see. Great... Yeah, I'll talk to Gibbs and get back to you about that interview. We're in the middle of something right now, so it might be a little while before I get back to you... Thanks. You too.'
He ended the call and pocketed his phone, then closed his eyes and banged his head against the door.
'Shit. Just what I need. I couldn't imprint on a beautiful blonde with a big chest and a great ass? Welcome to the wonderful world of celibacy, DiNozzo.' He sighed again, opened the door and went back out into the bullpen.
'What was all that about?' Tim asked as Tony went back to his desk.
'Nothing that concerns you, Probie,' Tony said. 'Has Gibbs come back yet?'
'Not yet. Are you sick?' Tim pushed.
'No, Probie! Drop it.'
'If you're not sick, why the mystery? Why get calls from doctors in the middle of the day?'
'McGee, I swear I will superglue your keyboard to the ceiling! Doctor Childs did the research into imprinting. You remember that case, three weeks ago? I wanted more information, I gave the lieutenant his number so she could talk about it with him. No mystery!' Tony said, exasperated.
'Then why not take the call here?' Ziva asked.
'Oh, for-!' Tony stalked off, heading for the stairs. Behind him, he could hear Tim and Ziva.
'Tony seems very touchy. Do you think he is ill?' Ziva sounded her usual combination of smug and concerned.
'I don't know. Something's up, that's for sure.' Tim, on the other hand, merely sounded thoughtful and that was bad. When McGee got thoughtful, he started digging and Tony really didn't want him digging into this. He barged into the stairwell and clattered down the stairs, coming out by Autopsy.
'Hey Palmer, is Ducky around?' Tony asked, seeing only the young assistant.
'I, uh... He went out for lunch, I think,' Jimmy stuttered. 'Can I help you? I mean, is there anything I can do?'
'Nah, thanks. I just wanted a word. I'll catch him later,' Tony put on his easy smile. He left and went to hang out in Abby's lab instead until Gibbs found him twenty minutes later and, with a slap, dragged him into an undercover operation.
Later didn't happen.
Tony spent a week as a site inspector, all long lunches and bribability. He ended up with plenty of evidence for Fornell's investigation, but then something went wrong. He slipped up, or someone decided they didn't like him or someone recognised him; Tony didn't know which. What he did know was his latest long lunch became a hazy blur and when he woke up again, he was hog-tied and lying on the ground at one of the construction sites, beside the plywood form that was due to be filled with concrete in the morning. It was getting dark, meaning he'd been out for around seven hours, and his ribs felt as though he'd had a good kicking.
'Hey, what's going on?' Tony asked, shaking his head muzzily. 'Why'm I here? What're you doin'?' He slurred his words more than he had to, hoping there was no one behind him to see his half-numb fingers checking out how he was tied. It only took him a moment to figure out that his wrists were bound with plastic cable ties, which meant his ankles were almost certainly tied the same way.
'What's going on is we got a nice place, nice quiet place, where you can take a good long nap, Mister DiNozzo. Who're you working for?' A man he hadn't seen before loomed over him. In his fifties, balding, with heavy jowls and the start of a paunch, he would have been anonymous in a crowd, utterly unremarkable, but for the rage in his eyes. Well, that and the gun he had pointed at Tony's head.
'Hey, hey, hey! No need for anything like that!' Tony said hastily. 'I work for the government, I'm a site inspector. I inspect sites like this one.'
'Your inspection's about to get a whole lot more up close and personal,' Baldy snarled. 'Drop him in.'
'No, wait! What do you want?' Tony asked. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had an awful suspicion he was about to find out what had happened to Drevitt.
'Absolutely nothing.' The man stood back, keeping his gun trained on Tony while two men sliced through his bonds and, before Tony could force his numb limbs to react, rolled him over the edge of the thirty foot drop into the foundations.
Pain. There was pain. But it was somewhere distant, and there was a warm layer of something fuzzy that felt like opiate-based painkiller between him and it. For once, Tony was happy to keep it that way. And rumbling in the background was a sound, a voice, that kept him anchored while everything else drifted. You don't get to die, you hear me? Tony slid back into sleep.
When he next surfaced, the pain was a little closer to the surface, but so was the voice, there, insistent, demanding, and then gone again.
'Boss?' he croaked.
'Tony? Come on, open those eyes. That's it.'
He managed, by some herculean effort, to open his eyes a fraction. 'Hey...' It took a while for his eyes to focus, but it was definitely Gibbs. 'Y'look... like crap...'
'You should talk.' Gibbs was smiling like he'd just won the state lottery. Tony found it disconcerting.
'Why...?'
'Why what, Tony?'
'... smiling...?'
Gibbs reached out a hand and touched his cheek, a remarkably gentle gesture for such a hard man. 'It's good to see you, DiNozzo, that's all.'
'Not going anywhere,' Tony tried to say, but then he was falling down again; sleep tugged at him and without even a token protest he slid under.
Some time later, sleep relaxed its grip and he woke to a veritable symphony of aches and pains. A sharp throbbing punctuated his left shoulderblade, in perfect counterpoint to the rhythm of his right hip. His head provided the bass note, and assorted other hurts over the rest of his body pounded out an atonal melody.
'Ow.'
'Tony! You're awake! Oh my god, let me call the doctor. Gibbs said you woke up but, you know, you've been lying there, so still, and I was so worried, and don't do that again!'
It was Abby. Her words flowed over him, warm and caring, until a white-clad figure entered the room and looked at the monitors before asking him questions.
'How are you feeling, Mister DiNozzo?'
'Hurts.'
'Can you tell me where hurts?'
'Everywhere. Ow.'
'On a scale of one to ten, where one is no pain and ten is the worst pain you've ever been in, what would you say your pain is?'
Tony thought about it for a moment. 'Seven? Eight?'
'Okay, I'll get the nurse in to go through pain management with you in just a minute.'
'What happened?'
The doctor looked at Abby, who was still sitting beside him, clutching a fold of the blanket that covered him, and scowling. 'I think you'd better talk to your colleague about that rather than me,' he said reluctantly. 'You have a severe concussion, fractures to your skull, left scapula and humerus and three ribs and you have severe bruising over a large part of your body. As far as we can tell, there's no damage to your spine, but this is the first time you've really been aware and lucid since you were brought in.'
'How long?' Tony swallowed around the dryness in his mouth and Abby carefully placed a straw between his lips. As the doctor spoke, he sipped at the blessedly cool water in relief.
'Four days.'
Tony let the straw drop back into the cup. 'Well, crap.'
The doctor nodded. 'I'll send in the nurse.'
When he'd gone, Tony took a good look at Abby. She was even paler than usual, her eyes red-rimmed, and under her makeup, he could see dark shadows under her eyes. 'Talk to me, Abs. What happened?'
'You don't remember?'
'Nope, or I wouldn't be asking.'
Abby lifted his hand, sliding her fingers between his until they were clasped together. 'You went off for lunch with some of those scumbags and you didn't check in again afterwards. Fornell said you were probably just busy, but Gibbs didn't buy it. He knew there was something hinky going on. Fornell wouldn't let him go search the sites because he said it'd blow the investigation, so Gibbs had people staking out the sites from a distance and me and Tim were busy tracking cell phones and seeing if we could find out if there were any unusual calling patterns emerging. Then Gibbs got called into a meeting with the director and Fornell and, oh, Tony, he punched Fornell!'
'Wait, what? Gibbs punched Fornell?' Tony exclaimed. 'Is he all right?'
'Bruised jaw.'
'I meant Gibbs.'
'Oh! Right. I suppose so. He got suspended, or rather the director kind of suspended him but only after you were back on-grid. I mean, he didn't want to pull Gibbs before we found you because I guess maybe he thought Gibbs would go do something stupid, like go look round the sites on his own. Anyway, he didn't need to because Ziva spotted activity over at site three, the Defense storage and archive place they're building on Irvine, so Gibbs went over there and Fornell brought a team and they got there just in time to see them push you... push you into the foundations.' Abby took a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears. When she continued, her voice shook. 'Ziva says she thought Gibbs was going to shoot them all! Fornell didn't want to arrest them 'til he knew what was going on, but Gibbs got them as they were coming out. He didn't shoot them, but the Feds have guards on them too in case you didn't... in case Gibbs changed his mind.'
'Hey, hey, don't cry, Abby. I'm good, I'm fine.' Tony squeezed her hand and pain shot up his arm. 'Ow! Damn it!'
'Tony, it was bad,' Abby whispered. 'They had to airlift you out of there and they didn't know if you'd broken your back or if there'd be brain damage and you wouldn't wake up.'
'My head's pretty solid, Abs,' Tony tried to reassure her. 'It'd take a lot more than a little fall to finish me off.' When Abby didn't smile, he knew it really had been that bad, that he'd come a lot closer to dying than he ever wanted. 'So where's Gibbs now?' he asked, changing the subject.
'Oh, he's interrogating those guys,' Abby said, sniffing. 'That's why he asked me to come and sit with you, in case you woke up. He didn't want you on your own.'
'I thought you said he was suspended?'
'As long as Fornell's not in the building, Director Vance isn't about to stop him. You know what Gibbs is like when someone tries to hurt one of his people.'
'I do. I just didn't think...' Tony trailed off, his mind finally getting the better of the painkillers in his system. 'Abby, how exactly is Gibbs?'
'He's scary-focused, aggressive. When he's in with Vorash, the older guy, he looks like he wants to hurt him then kill him then hurt him some more. The rest of the time he's really pissed, but we all are. It never ends well when Fornell wants you to go undercover.'
'Would you say he's more pissed than usual?' Tony asked.
'I guess so. What's this about, Tony? What aren't you telling me?' Abby frowned at him.
'It's just nice to know you all care so much,' Tony lied. 'So who've I missed, who's come to see me while I've been sleeping?'
'They've all been pretty busy and the hospital's been really careful about who they'll let in to see you. There's a couple of guys on the door, one of ours and one of Fornell's, just in case anyone tries to get at you in here. But now you're awake, they'll all want to come and make sure you're going to be all right.'
'Can you ask Ducky to stop by if he's got a minute?' Tony asked.
'Sure. Do you want anything bringing in? Books, magazines, that kind of thing?'
'That'd be great. If someone could stop by my apartment and grab me some clothes, maybe bring me a laptop and some dvds? I hate being stuck in hospital, it drives me crazy.' Tony yawned, then winced. 'I thought the doctor promised me a nurse.'
'Sure.' Abby disentangled their fingers and went to find out, pigtails bobbing with every step.
Tony watched her go, then closed his eyes. He needed to work out how to get Ducky to watch out for Gibbs without telling him they were imprinted, but the pain from his injuries kept distracting him and it was exhausting. Before he could come up with anything, Abby was back, nurse in tow.
'So, let's talk about pain management,' the nurse said. Tony opened his eyes. The nurse was tall, slim, brown-haired - and male.
'When I have a sponge bath, I want a female nurse,' Tony said pitifully. 'No offence, but the only reason to stay in hospital is the pretty nurses giving me sponge baths.' He pouted.
'Tony! You pig!' Abby protested, but she was smiling. Tony knew she used his level of flirting as a measure of how bad he was feeling, knew she'd be reassured, wouldn't see beyond it to how desperate he was for pain relief and sleep: it was worth the effort it cost him.
The nurse laughed. 'Sure, I'll see what I can do. I'm Brian, the staff nurse, and I'll be in charge of making sure your pain's managed properly. Do you have any problems with any types of painkillers?' Behind him, Abby slipped from the room and Tony knew she was going to call Gibbs. By the time she returned, he was asleep again.
The lights were on low when Tony awoke, surfacing from bizarre painkiller-induced dreams to find a shadowy figure sitting in the chair beside the bed.
'Gibbs?' he croaked, and the figure stirred.
'No, my dear boy, it's Ducky. Let me get you some water.'
After a few sips, Tony was able to talk. 'What time is it?'
'Just after nine. Abigail said you wanted to see me, so I thought I'd sit a while and catch up on some of those journals I rarely get time to read.' Ducky smiled. 'It's good to see you awake.'
Tony couldn't quite summon up an answering smile. 'How's Gibbs?'
'Oh, don't worry yourself about Jethro,' Ducky said, surprised. 'He's a tough bird. He's fine. No, it's yourself you need to concentrate on, resting and healing so that you can come back to us soon.'
'No, god, not fine,' Tony said. Sleep still tugged at the edges of his mind, while the resurgence of pain scattered his thoughts every time he tried to collect them. 'You need to watch out for him, Ducky. Promise me.'
'Why? What's wrong with Jethro? Is there a threat to him?' Ducky's face creased with concern and he reached for his cell phone.
'Yeah, me,' Tony choked and to his horror, he felt tears slide down his cheek.
'No, Anthony, I don't believe that. You'd never knowingly hurt Gibbs,' Ducky said, upset by Tony's distress. Without making a fuss, he retrieved a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped Tony's cheeks.
'You don't understand, Ducky,' Tony whispered.
'Why don't you enlighten me?'
Tony closed his eyes, shutting out Ducky's look of compassion. He was exhausted already from the pain and words tumbled out before he could think to stop them. 'We imprinted,' he whispered. 'I didn't even know, but we imprinted and I didn't tell him. Ducky, if I'd died...' he broke off, only to feel the ME's warm, dry hand take his own.
'Oh, Anthony, my poor boy,' Ducky said gently. 'I had rather wondered. When did you find out?'
Tony opened his eyes again, meeting Ducky's calm gaze with his own troubled one. 'Had a call from Doctor Childs the day I got roped into Fornell's mess.'
'You never had chance to tell him,' Ducky guessed.
Tony shook his head and looked away, ashamed. 'Wasn't sure I should.'
'Why ever not? Jethro needs to know. It's something that affects him on a fundamental level.'
'You heard him, Ducky. He's not gay, he's not interested. He doesn't need to be tied to me by some freak of biology.' Another tear pooled in the corner of his eye, then slid down over his cheek to vanish into his hairline. Again, Ducky wiped it away.
'I rather think he has no choice in the matter, just as you don't.' He patted Tony's hand. 'It explains your reaction to any threat to the other. Anthony, I won't lie to you: a relationship of any sort with Jethro will not be easy. But you are already well aware of that and you have, in your own way, found a way of dealing with him that is considerably more effective than any of his past three wives. You may be imprinted, but it does not define you, nor does it define your relationship. I trust you won't let Jethro push you away.'
'Haven't done so far,' Tony muttered. 'Sorry, Ducky. I should have said something.'
'Yes, you should, but under the circumstances, it is understandable. Now you must rest. I will return tomorrow and we can talk about this more if you wish.'
Ducky waited until Tony was asleep before he slipped away. He had a house call to make.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.