Being on desk duty sucked most when the rest of the team was out and
about doing fieldwork. Grumbling to himself, Tony contemplated heading
down to the lab, but figured that Abby was about ready to start
charging him rent and so didn't. Instead, he headed outside to walk
down the block to the coffee shop. Gibbs, Kate and McGee were already
on their way back and having hot coffee as stomach-churning strong as
Gibbs liked it, could only help when the boss was in a pissy mood.

And shit, was he in a pissy mood.

Tony sighed as he waved to the guard on duty and walked outside. Gibbs
had been stuck to his side like a burr for the last two days, though
he had as yet to explain why. Knowing that the other agent wouldn't
say anything until he was good and ready to, Tony hadn't bothered to
question him. It was strangely frustrating to them both that Gibbs
couldn't smack Tony on the back of the head, what with the injury.

"I wonder if that makes me a masochist," Tony wondered thoughtfully as
he waited for the light to change.

Being the middle of the afternoon, there weren't many people out and
about, so Tony didn't have to worry about fighting a crowd. The light
finally changed and Tony stepped onto the street to cross it. He was
mostly across when the squealing of tires caught his attention.
Glancing up, Tony found a car coming right at him and for a split
second could only look dumbly at the ton of metal hurtling towards
him. Instinct kicked in, though, and he leaped out of the way as best
he could.

The edge of the car caught his hip and Tony spun sharply around to
land half-on, half-off the sidewalk, his head slamming into the
concrete with damning force. Pain seared through his entire body, but
consciousness only lasted a few more seconds anyhow.

* * * *

Kate was much, much more worried this time, than she had been the
first because she hadn't truly realized how close to death Tony had
come from his beating. Not until Tony was well on his way to recovery.
Knowing that the previous head injury hadn't finished healing before
being dealt a devastating blow like a concrete sidewalk, well, it was
scaring the shit out of her. The thought that their Tony could be
brain-damaged or, worse, brain dead...

Shaking the horrific idea away like an anathema, she glanced over at
where Gibbs was occupying the corner of the waiting area, blue eyes
locked on the double-doors of the operating room. He'd taken root
there upon arrival and didn't look to be moving until someone came out
with news of Tony's condition.

McGee and Abby were back at the office doing what needed to be done.
Thankfully, neither she nor Gibbs were needed at this juncture of the
investigation on an embezzling Lieutenant. Though truthfully, Kate
knew she'd be taking lead of the team for as long as Tony was in the
hospital.

What was left of the team, anyhow.

Ducky returned just then from the nurses' station, just as grim as
when he'd gone to try and sweet-talk his way into an update. Sitting
in the chair beside her, he said, "Nothing. There's no news as to how
the operation is going, or how long it will continue. It could be
hours longer, or almost over, depending on how bad the skull fracture
was."

Hand to her stomach, Kate whispered, "He has to be okay, Ducky, he does."

A soothing hand rubbed between her shoulders and Ducky answered, "It's
in God's hands now, my dear."

"I know," she sighed.

"God?"

The single, harsh, bitter word from Gibbs actually caused Kate to
flinch, it was filled with so much venom. Looking over at the man, she
wasn't surprised to find no expression on his face whatsoever; the
angrier Gibbs was, the more difficult it was to read him.

"Don't you say that word around here, Dr. Mallard. Or you, Kate. I
don't want your misplaced faith in that feckless, absentee fake
anywhere near Tony," Gibbs snarled, not moving from his spot.

Ducky sighed. "Jethro..."

"No. Not a single, *fucking* word. Don't you *dare.*"

Shocked by the profanity used in Ducky's hearing, if not her own, Kate
could literally find no voice with which to respond. She honestly
couldn't remember hearing Gibbs use anything harsher than damn or hell
in all the time they'd worked together. Gibbs had this thing about not
swearing in mixed company that was strangely endearing. One of the few
things about him that was, in her opinion.

"Excuse me, Special Agent Gibbs? There's a Director Morrow on the
phone for you," a nurse informed them hesitantly.

Gibbs looked, for a moment, like he was going to curse at her too, but
then controlled himself. Giving a sharp nod, he followed her back to
the nurses' station.

"Ducky, he's going for a meltdown," Kate observed, officially worried
out of her mind about Gibbs now, too.

Ducky sighed again and replied, "He won't until we know for sure if
Tony won't recover. And if that's the case, well, I honestly don't
know what to expect."

"You don't think that he'd..." the words died off as Kate tried to
avoid naming the worst case scenario.

"Eat his gun if Tony dies, or is brain dead?" Ducky finished for her.
At her nod, Ducky's gaze returned to Jethro's rigid form several
meters away. "I wish I knew, Kate, I truly do."

Ducky wanted to promise that it was going to be all right, Kate could
see, but not even he could make that kind of leap in this situation.
That Tony had come through the last one as well as he had was
something of a miracle in itself.

God, she really wanted Abby beside her just then.

* * * *

Her fingers moved automatically over the keyboard as Abby emotionally
tried to keep herself from falling apart. She had to do the job so
that Gibbs didn't have to worry. Gibbs had way too much to worry about
with Tony, to spare any attention to the job. Sniffling and wiping her
nose on the back of her sleeve, Abby continued to hack into the
Lieutenant's free email account for evidence. Not that it could
technically be used in court, but Gibbs had just been looking for
anything to bring the arrogant SOB in for questioning on and Abby was
going to get it for him.

Though Gibbs wouldn't be questioning him anymore, Kate would as senior
agent.

"How're you doing?"

Jumping a mile at McGee's soft question, she snapped, "Don't sneak up
on me like that!"

McGee flinched like a kicked puppy, instantly making Abby feel guilty,
and apologized, "I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"No, McGee, I'm sorry," Abby countered, wiping her nose again. "It's
just, with Tony, and, and Bossman, and all this crap...I just hate
that I'm stuck here. Not that I could do anything at the hospital,
but, I'd be there, you know?"

McGee lightly squeezed her shoulder, offering a gentle smile as he
encouraged, "Hey, Tony would want to nail this bastard, you know that.
And from what I can see on your code, it looks like you've almost got
him."

Shifting uncomfortably out of McGee's grip, Abby nodded and replied,
"Yeah. Just about."

He frowned, observing, "That's about the tenth time in the last four
days that you've avoided my touch. What's going on, Abby?"

Even though breaking up hadn't been on her list of things to do that
day, especially not after the hit-and-run, Abby just couldn't take it
anymore and blurted, "I don't love you and we really need to
officially break up!"

McGee blinked at her a few times, not answering at first. Finally he
asked, "Um, okay, what brought this on?"

"I just..." Abby sighed. "It's..."

"There's someone else."

The defeated tone in McGee's voice told her exactly how often this had
happened to him in the past, expanding her guilt. Groaning, Abby
thumped her head against the lab counter, unable to look at the hurt
expression on his sweet baby-face any longer.

He surprised her by rubbing her back and offering, "I hope he takes
good care of you, Abs. You deserve it."

Feeling even more like a heel, Abby said, "Um, yeah, about that."

McGee gave her a curious look. "What?"

After taking a deep breath, glad that she and Kate had talked about
this already, Abby admitted, "It's Kate."

McGee stared at her, dumbstruck. "Uh...huh?"

* * * *

Two hours and thirty-six minutes after arriving at the hospital where
Tony had already been in surgery to relieve swelling of the brain by
removing a section of his skull, the part that had been cracked on the
curb, Dr. Lynn Bailey came out to let them know it was over. Jethro
knew the moment that she came through the double doors that the news
was bad.

"He's in a coma," she announced quietly. "If he makes it through the
next twenty-four hours, he'll survive. What kind of brain damage that
will include, we won't know unless he wakes up."

*Not `if' he has brain damage, but `what kind;' not `when' he wakes
up, but `unless,'* Jethro thought bleakly to himself.

"Will you allow visitors?" Ducky questioned.

Dr. Bailey looked at Jethro and answered, "You can stay with him,
Agent Gibbs, as you're listed Next of Kin. The two of you will have to
limit your visits to five minutes each. I suggest...you should call
his parents and any close relatives that he has, and I'm sorry to say
this, but you should all be prepared for the worst."

"You don't expect him to make it through the night," Jethro stated.
Meeting his gaze, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but no. He's on a
respirator right now and that's the only thing keeping him alive."

Jethro gave her a lopsided grin and replied, "You don't know him the
way we do, Doc. Tony's going to pull through this and anything else
that gets thrown at him."

She returned his grin with a gentle, if neutral, smile of her own.
"I'll check on him every hour. If you need me, or if his parents want
to speak with me, the nurses can page me."

Signaling to a nurse, the doctor nodded her goodbyes and left them in
the woman's care. They were brought them into ICU's waiting area,
which was on the same floor as the operating room, and said, "He's in
that room. Don't forget. Five minutes each, except for Agent Gibbs.
Who is...?"

"Me," Jethro answered. "Don't worry. The orders will be obeyed."

She nodded and Jethro crossed the hall and stepped inside Tony's ICU
room. It was a single unit, surprisingly, and for a moment, Jethro
couldn't even see Tony amidst all the tubes and wires and bandages.

"Dear God," Ducky breathed.

Jethro's jaw tightened, but he didn't bother to correct the soft
exclamation. Walking to the bed, he sat in the chair beside it, taking
Tony's hand and bringing the palm to his lips, pressing it there.
Tony's head was wrapped almost completely in bandages, only his face
visible, and his pelvis was in a large, ungainly cast, the leg in a
straight, metal brace to keep it in place. The respirator was a loud,
unnatural noise that Jethro instantly hated and then ignored.

"Tony, lad, it's Ducky. If you can hear me, I want you to stay with
us, all right? We aren't ready to let you go yet, no matter what
incarnation your life might have to take," Ducky said firmly. "Stay
here with us. Don't leave."

Ducky's hand came down on Jethro's shoulder and he looked up at the
older man, seeing his real age in the pained lines etched into his
friend's face for the first time in a long time.

"My five minutes are up. I'll send in Kate," Ducky said.

Jethro nodded and turned back to Tony, saying, "You heard him, Tony.
Everyone wants you to stick around, so you'd better do just that."

Hearing the door open behind him and Kate's soft gasp, Jethro kept his
eyes firmly on his lover's oddly peaceful face. If he saw her pain, he
wasn't entirely sure that he'd be able to keep it together. Not that
he was doing all that great a job of it as it was, but it would go
straight down the toilet. Kate didn't say anything. She simply walked
up beside Jethro, bent to kiss Tony's cheek, and left.

Jethro let out a long, shaky sigh and announced, "It's just us now,
Tony. You and me. I'm only going to say one thing here, and then I'll
let you get some rest. Here it is. If you die, I'm going to find the
people who did this to you, kill them, then find a way to join you,
wherever you are. Understand me? You'd better, because I mean every
single word."

There was no answer, of course, and Jethro settled in to wait.

* * * *

It was the longest night of Ducky's already long life and he sighed as
he waited in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting area. His
body felt battered and sore, though he'd done nothing more than be
awake and moving for the last thirty-six hours. It was almost midnight
and Jethro hadn't yet surfaced from Tony's room. On the plus side,
there hadn't been any rush of doctors and nurses to suddenly descend
upon the room, either, which meant the young man was holding his own.

"Ducky."

Startled by Gerald's voice, Ducky jerked upright and groaned, his hand
massaging a now-pulled neck muscle. Offering his lover a wan smile,
Ducky motioned him closer and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Kate called me when you wouldn't leave," Gerald said softly, sitting
beside Ducky. "She'd thought that you'd told me about Tony."

Even though his voice was so carefully not accusing, so casually
neutral, Ducky knew that the other man was hurt by the exclusion.
Sighing a bit, Ducky thought about lying, but discarded the idea just
as quickly as it rose. He hadn't yet lied to Gerald since the start of
their relationship and didn't really want to start. Taking the dark
hand in his own, Ducky explained slowly, "It's an ignorant
superstition and I can't really expect you to understand but...I was
trying to keep you safe."

Gerald frowned at him, brown eyes meeting blue as he thought the words
over for a few minutes. Understanding graced his features and Gerald
half-smiled as he accurately guessed, "By keeping whatever bad luck
that's touched Gibbs and Tony, from touching me. Ducky. You know better."

"What can I say, my love? We are a product of our upbringing and,
however long ago it was, I grew up in a rural, superstitious hamlet,"
Ducky answered helplessly.

Shaking his head, Gerald slid his arm around Ducky's waist and asked,
"When was the last time you checked on them?"

Ducky glanced at his watch. "Fifty-four minutes ago."

"Which you've actually been doing for the last eight hours, according
to Kate."

"Correct."

"And you were, eventually, planning to come home to me."

"Well of course!"

Gerald smiled and asked, "So what makes you think you wouldn't bring
the bad luck home with you?"

Opening his mouth to counter the declaration, Ducky instead sighed
ruefully and replied, "Logic, I'm afraid, holds no sway over
superstition."

"Maybe not, but you do," Gerald said firmly. "Don't do this again.
Tony's my friend, one of my best friends, and he was there for me all
during my recovery. I have a right to be here, as much as anyone else
does."

Ducky nodded, sobered by the hurt in his lover's eyes, and promised,
"I won't. I'm sorry."

Smiling briefly, Gerald pulled him close and, for the first time since
seeing Jethro pale at the office upon receiving the hospital's call,
Ducky allowed himself to relax. Resting his head on Gerald's broad
shoulder, he closed his eyes and whispered, "I feel so helpless."

A gentle hand brushed through his hair as Gerald kissed his temple and
whispered back, "We all do, Ducky, we all do."

* * * *

Four a.m. loomed large, the darkest part of the dawn, and Jethro's
hand kept a firm grip on Tony's, fingers laced together as he waited
for the struggle to be over, one way or the other. He knew from long
acquaintance with death that this was the time it was most likely to
happen. Science might scoff at such a claim, but human instinct was
seldom wrong in matters of the spirit and Jethro's was keener than most.

Pressing his lips to the motionless fingers, Jethro said, "You know it
doesn't matter what happens, right? That I'm never going to leave you?
I don't care if you're blind or deaf or paralyzed, Tony. All I want is
you. That spark of you that keeps me human. I need that, need you, to
keep me from really becoming that bastard I've always claimed to be.
Without you..."

Jethro tried to clear his throat at the thought of losing Tony, but
couldn't manage it. The tears escaped his control to slip one at a
time down his cheeks, stealing his soul with every drop onto the back
of Tony's hand.

"Don't. Leave. Me."

Those were the only words he could get out, barely audible and filled
with the kind of need he'd always despised in himself. The kind of
need that had driven three wives from him. The kind of need that made
him feel less...less of a man, less himself, less whole.

Closing his eyes, Jethro rested his forehead on the cast over Tony's
hip, knowing there was no way his lover would feel it through all the
plaster. Changing hands, but keeping contact, Jethro put his other arm
across Tony's hips and slid his free hand against the warm, bare skin
of his lower abdomen before moving it up to rest over the steadily
beating heart.

* * * *

Jethro wasn't sure what woke him, but his eyes snapped open and he was
completely, preternaturally aware of everything around him. He heard
the respirator, felt the steady rise and fall of Tony's chest beneath
his hand, smelled that antiseptic hospital smell he hated so fiercely.

Then it happened...Tony's fingers combed through his hair.

Stifling the pounding fear of what he might see by looking up at his
lover, Jethro forced himself to do just that. Instead of a blank
stare, a sightless stare, or an unrecognizing, uncomprehending
expression, all Jethro found was Tony. A curious, pained, and
uncertain Tony, but it was him nonetheless.

Tony's hand rested on Jethro's head, fingers moving easily through his
short hair, then shifted to cup Jethro's face. The grip was strong and
sure, no tremors or weakness anywhere to be found as Tony palmed the
stubble-covered cheek and chin.

Sitting upright, Jethro whispered, "I'll get the nurse to remove the
tube. Don't go anywhere."

Tony's lips twitched, even contorted around the mouthpiece as they
were, as if to say, `Like I could anyhow?' in that smart-assed tone
they all loved so much.

It took all Jethro had to leave and he had to bend close and kiss Tony
first, his mouth lingering at the corner of a bruised eye for several
long seconds. Finally regaining some semblance of control, he left the
room and looked around for a nurse not on rounds. He found one and
said simply, "Tony DiNozzo's awake and breathing on his own."

She looked shocked for a moment, then hurried to get a doctor.

Jethro looked for Ducky to discover him sound asleep and draped over
Gerald's lap. Smiling as he approached them, he ordered, "Let him
sleep. Tony's going to be fine."

Gerald returned his smile with a brilliant one of his own.

* * * *

Tony's tongue still moved in an effort to dislodge a tube that was no
longer present and he scowled at the foul taste that lingered, despite
drinking some water to rinse his mouth. Holding his lover's hand, Tony
found that he felt better than he had in a long time, even with the
ache in his hip where he'd connected with the car. It was probably the
drugs, but he had no headache whatsoever, or any other side-effects
that a new head injury should bring.

"Frankly, there is no explanation," Dr. Bailey finished after a long,
technical discussion that Tony was sure only Ducky had followed. "It's
a miracle. You should be dead, Agent DiNozzo."

Grinning at her, Tony flirted, "I bet you say that to all the head cases."

She snorted and replied to Gibbs, "I think he's going to be fine,
Agent Gibbs, even if I can't explain it. MRI and CAT scans are
scheduled for thirty minutes from now to double check things."

"Thank you, Doctor," Gibbs said, using his free hand to shake hers.

Dr. Bailey shrugged. "I didn't do this, but you're welcome."

"Anthony my boy, you are, without a doubt, the luckiest man I know,"
Ducky announced when she was gone.

Smirking, Tony quipped, "Just wait `til I get Gibbs home, then I'll
get even luckier."

Gibbs just sighed, his lips twitching in an effort not to grin.

A knock at the door announced Karen's presence and Tony grimaced when
Gibbs' hand tightened painfully on his. The pressure instantly let up
and the hand brought up for a brief, apologetic kiss before Gibbs
stood to square off with the DA.

"You were going to have people watching him, he was supposed to be
under protection!" Gibbs snarled.

*Protection?* Tony wondered. *That's news.*

Holding up her hands, Karen replied, "I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but
there was honestly nothing we could do. It simply happened too fast."

"Wait a second here. You used me as bait and didn't even tell me?"
Tony demanded, glaring at his lover.

Still scowling, Gibbs replied, "Not my idea, DiNozzo."

"He didn't have a choice," Karen confirmed. "And neither did I. Turns
out that your case caught the Justice Department's eye and they wanted
to make an example of Korinski and his pals. I didn't know at the
time, well, no one did except Justice, that he was part of a larger
organization, a splinter group of Neo-Nazi's who were specifically
targeting gays."

Tony frowned and observed, "But if that's the case, why is Justice
involved? That's the FBI's turf, isn't it? Home grown misfits and all
that?"

She sighed. "It's a long, convoluted story and honestly, my head hurts
trying to untangle the web."

"What about Tony's head? What about the fact that he almost died?"
Gibbs questioned harshly. "What's Justice got to say about that? Or
the FBI? You better tell them that I'm going to..."

"Jethro!"

Startled by the sharp use of his first name from Tony, Gibbs stopped
mid-sentence to look at him and ask, "What?"

"If anyone here has a right to be pissed, it's me. The unsuspecting
dupe," Tony reminded him, half-smiling. Glancing to Karen, he asked,
"Did they get the guys who ran me down?"

"Yeah."

"Are they under arrest?"

"And singing like larks."

"Good. Then you don't need me to testify, right?"

Karen paused, then replied slowly, "No, I suppose we don't. We've got
plenty of forensic evidence that they're the ones who hit you and
their own confessions to nail the coffin shut on Korinski and their
organization, too."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Tony said, "Then I think we're done. It
was nice to meet you, but unless something hideously wrong happens to
the case, I don't want to see you or your office again. Well, unless
our paths cross professionally, of course."

"I understand," Karen agreed simply. "Good luck to all of you."

Relaxing a little once the door closed behind her, Tony grinned at
Gibbs and observed, "You really need to check into those anger
management classes, Boss."

Gibbs' mouth opened like he was going to say something harsh, but then
he sighed and sat on the bed. "I think maybe you're right, DiNozzo."

"And on that note, I'm going home to sleep in a real bed," Ducky
informed them.

Tony smirked a little and said to Gerald, "Make sure you keep him
there for a couple of days."

Shaking his head in amusement, Gerald just said, "Glad you're all
right, Tony," and guided a too-tired Ducky out of the room.

"You're something else, Tony."

"Aren't I?" Tony agreed, grinning up at Gibbs. "And just think. In a
couple of weeks when I don't have a plaster chastity belt on, you can
get seriously reacquainted with just what I am."

A short laugh escaped Gibbs and then it happened, what Tony had been
waiting for, for the last four hours since he'd woken up. Gibbs'
breath hitched and caught and he began to shake, wrapping his arms
tight around himself. Tony smiled gently and tugged him down, holding
him tight as he soothed a hand up and down his lover's back. Tony
didn't fool himself that he was the only one who'd been deeply
affected by this entire debacle. It was just that his injuries were a
lot more obvious than the ones that had been inflicted on Gibbs.

It was time for them both to start healing.

Epilogue

There were too many repercussions from the hit-and-run, Tony mused,
hissing in pain as he shifted the heating pad on his leg.

It had taken five months of grueling physical therapy for Tony to be
able to walk and run at the standard NCIS level to get back to his
job. Migraines were just something to be accepted and dealt with as
they came, too often. Having to wear glasses for real, instead of just
to look good for his vanity, because his vision had taken a dive was a
royal pain in the ass, but considering he could've been blinded, Tony
didn't complain about it all that often, and certainly not out loud to
Gibbs.

Then there were the non-physical problems that kept cropping up at the
worst times. There were the pseudo-panic attacks from Gibbs if Tony
was late more than five minutes. They were rarely out of each other's
sight for long, either, though he wouldn't really call that a problem.
Tony's nightmares of getting hit by a car, over and over again,
however, was a problem and eventually, he was going to have to see a
shrink about it.

Arthritic pain in his hip and knee when the weather turned damp, and
exacerbated when it got cold, was just the newest legacy.

Grimacing as he again shifted the heating pad on his thigh, this time
to cover his hip, Tony reached over and started powering down his
computer. It was two days before Christmas and they were heading out
of the city to the warmth of an island getaway, a complete and utter
shock to Tony when Gibbs had held out the plane tickets over the weekend.

"All set to have fun in the sun?" Abby asked as she approached, a
broad grin on her face.

Grinning in response, Tony replied, "More than, Abs, no question. What
about you and Kate? What're you two up to? Aside from working."

Abby made a face at his teasing and retorted, "One day, my friend,
one day you will discover the downside to being the Boss' boy-toy."

Laughing softly, Tony said, "Not any time soon, I'll tell you that."

"When's your flight?"

Tony glanced over at McGee, who was powering down his own computer,
and answered, "Seven. Now, you're sure that you've got everything down
like I told you, Probie?"

McGee didn't even grimace at the nick-name anymore. They all knew that
he was Probie in name only these days, having more than proved his
worth while Tony was in recovery. He nodded and said, "I have wine for
her father, flowers for her mother, those concert tickets Abby scored
for her little sister, and the ring, of course, for her."

Abby kissed his cheek and exclaimed, "We're so proud, McGee, aren't
we, Tony? All grown up now and asking properly for Cheryl's hand in
marriage."

Chuckling, Tony was about to answer in the affirmative when Gibbs
stepped off the elevator. Their eyes met and it was like he knew
exactly what Gibbs was thinking. That it was time to get the hell out
of Dodge. Unplugging the heating pad, Tony tossed it on the desk and
stood up.

"All set, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, joining them.

Tony nodded and stepped around the desk. Kate got off the elevator
just then, stalking across the room with a look in her eyes that said
he was so busted.

"Ah, Boss, we should really..."

"DiNozzo! What the hell made you think you could escape before I could
get hold of you?" Kate exclaimed.

Gibbs, Abby, and McGee all turned curious eyes on him and Tony
squirmed. "Look, Kate, it's not like..."

"Don't you start!"

"But..."

"Not a word, DiNozzo!"

And then he had an armful of Kate, and an astonished audience as she
kissed him right on the lips. Grinning when she stepped away, he
asked, "So you liked our present?"

Gibbs mouthed, `Our?' at him behind her head.

"You are on my permanent `good guy' list, DiNozzo, no matter what I
said about your parentage before," she confirmed, beaming. "Abby, pack
your bags. We're going to St. Croix."

Abby's jaw dropped and she squeaked, "Where? When?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo, when?" Gibbs questioned, arms crossing over his chest.

Scratching fingers through his hair, abashed, Tony replied, "The day
we get back. See, I knew you had some kind of trip planned, and it
didn't seem fair to let them languish here while we were off having
fun, not without some kind of, you know, compensation for having to
work on Christmas. Oh, McGee, don't forget to check your car for your
present. We have to go or we'll miss our plane. Bye, all!"

Tony dragged Gibbs away from the others amidst well-wishes and
promises to be careful.

Once the elevator doors closed, Gibbs turned on him and demanded,
"Just what did we get McGee?"

Offering a weak grin, Tony answered, "Ah, his honeymoon on Nantucket
for a week."

"Nantucket?"

"I've always been drawn to that island. You know the old limerick."

"Don't say it."

"There once was a man from Nantucket..."

Gibbs slapped a hand over Tony's mouth and shook his head. "You know
what, DiNozzo?"

Tony mumbled, "What?" against his palm.

Leaning in close, ignoring the cameras, Gibbs removed his hand and
kissed him, thoroughly, until Tony was weak against the wall. Then the
doors opened and Gibbs walked out, leaving him there to turn around
and prompt, "Well? We do have a flight to catch. Get a move on."

After catching his breath, Tony grinned and hurried after him, falling
into step with the man who loved him more than anything and, finally,
wasn't afraid to show the world. It was the best Christmas present of
his life.

Not that he was going to make Gibbs return the tickets, or anything.