Gibbs was a little embarrassed by Ducky’s comment as well as ashamed that he let himself get caught up in the moment like that, but kissing Tony had been pure heaven. He was so looking forward to going beyond heaven to paradise. He just didn’t need to let Tony know that, he thought as he took out a glass and poured Gatorade for the young man. Tony was already too sure of himself. No need to feed his ego further, at least not at this point.

"Jethro!" Ducky called.

Hearing something in the doctor’s voice that sounded a bit like panic, Gibbs ran out of the room, leaving the glass of yellowish-green liquid on the counter. When he entered Tony’s room he saw him still on the bed, sleeping again.

"What’s the matter?" Gibbs asked as Ducky moved his stethoscope around Tony’s chest.

"You tell me. He is not responding to anything I do or say."

"Shit," Gibbs said, moving to the side of the bed and reaching out for Tony’s strong shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Tony. Come on, buddy, wake up."

But Tony didn’t answer, didn’t even move.

"Jethro, what is this?" Ducky asked, noticing a bit of blood on the pillowcase.

"He fell a little while ago when he was trying to use the head. He hit his head on the floor."

Ducky felt the back of Tony’s head till he found the knot. "Jethro, you should have known better," he said in a scolding manner as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.

Gibbs paled a bit.

"Yes, my name is Doctor Mallard, and I need an ambulance at 123 Westminster Court, apartment 3C, please… Yes, possible concussion with complication of flu, possibly pneumonia…Thank you, and yes, please hurry."

"How long?"

"Ten minutes or so. Possibly longer with traffic at this time of day."

"Like hell," Gibbs said, wrapping Tony’s naked body in the throw and picking him up.

"Jethro, you’ll hurt your back. Young Anthony may have lost weight while he’s been sick, but he’s no lightweight."

Gibbs just glared at him as he continued out of the room.

Ducky followed him. "Jethro, they will be here soon."

"Not soon enough. I can get him to the closest hospital in five minutes flat. You coming or are you going to stay here arguing with an empty room?"

Gibbs walked out of the apartment. Ducky shook his head as he followed, calling 911 again and canceling the ambulance. They got to Gibbs car, and he put Tony in the back with Ducky being used as a pillow. Gibbs had wanted to hold the man himself but knew he had to drive.

Gibbs told a wide-eyed McGee to go back to HQ and sit tight, that they would call when they knew something. Tim didn’t want to just sit around, he wanted to help, but by the look on Gibbs’ face he knew he wouldn’t be welcome. It was a look that clearly said back off.

Gibbs got in the front seat and threw the flashing light on the dashboard and hit the siren. They were standard with the car in his line of work, but he’d never used them till now. He drove even more haphazardly than usual. Tony, now HIS Tony, was in the backseat with a head injury, a possible concussion, and it was his fault that he hadn’t acted sooner.

"Anthony, dear boy, can you hear me?" Ducky questioned, handling the lad with care. There was no response, which was probably a good thing at this point because Gibbs’ driving was sure to make Tony’s nausea that much worse.

Gibbs pulled into the ambulance bay in front of the emergency room. The security guard was walking up as he got out of the car, telling him he couldn’t park there. Gibbs ignored him as he opened the back door.

"I’m sorry, sir, you have to move," the guard tried again.

Gibbs glared at him as he pulled out his wallet and showed the man his ID and badge. "Official NCIS business."

"But, sir, you can’t park here. And you’re not wearing shoes! You can’t go in without shoes."

Gibbs scowled. He’d been too worried about Tony to worry about shoes. Thank God he’d had his pants on. He walked up to the guard and got right in his face, causing the guard to visibly swallow.

"I thought this was a hospital, not a damned restaurant," Gibbs barked. "My agent is sick, and we ARE going in. You can move the damned car yourself once I have my man inside."

"But, sir, I can’t move your car. It’s against the rules."

"Then have it towed. I don’t really care."


Not giving the man time to respond, he strode through the automatic doors and grabbed an empty stretcher. Together he and Ducky got Tony onto the stretcher.

"But, sir," the guard tried again, a look of panic on his face.

Ducky intervened then. "I’ll move the car. Jethro, take Tony inside. I’ll be right behind you."

Gibbs was already wheeling the stretcher through the automatic doors as Ducky got in the car to move it. The guard looked from one to the other, not sure what had just happened but grateful the silver-haired man was no longer slicing through him with those piercing blue eyes. That man was damned scary.

Ducky, moving quickly across the lot and into the ER, soon caught up with Gibbs, who was now arguing with a nurse who had come out from behind the desk in the ER.

"Nurse, I’m Dr. Mallard. This man is an NCIS agent. He has a head wound with complications of flu and possible pneumonia."

"Yes, Doctor, we’ve been expecting you. As I was just telling Agent Gibbs, if he will have a seat in the waiting room, we’ll let him know something after we’ve examined Agent DiNozzo."

"Like hell," Gibbs growled.

"Jethro, they need to do their job."

"I’m not leaving his side."

"Then stay out of the way," Ducky snapped. He understood what Gibbs was going through. He, himself, had watched a loved-one shot right in front of him in the NCIS morgue, but he also knew the hospital personnel had a job to do.

Shooting Gibbs a glare that rivaled his own, the nurse took the stretcher and rolled it into a room. She was locking the wheels as the doctor came in.

"Hi, I’m Doctor Craft. What do we have here?" he asked, looking at Ducky.

Ducky proceeded to tell the good doctor what had happened, Gibbs filling in the part about how he had found Tony unconscious after he fell and how he hadn’t remembered anything up till that time.

"Well let’s get him a CT scan and an X-ray just to be safe."

The transporter came for Tony right away. Gibbs didn’t want to let go of Tony’s hand but Ducky held him back.

"Mr. Gibbs we need you to fill out the paperwork for Mr. DiNozzo. You are his emergency contact, aren’t you?"

Gibbs started when the woman spoke. Wracked with worry, he hadn’t even noticed her entering the room.

"Yes, yes I am. What do you need to know?"

"Well, let’s start with his full name."

He told the woman what she needed to know. Tony, it turned out, had been to this ER once before for something Gibbs hadn’t even known about, so most of his information was still on file and all he had to do was update it.

Ducky called Abby and was having her fax the results of Tony’s blood work to the hospital. He spent half the call trying to calm her down; she had freaked when she found out Tony was in the ER. Because she and McGee had driven in together that morning, she said she would have to wait for him to return before she could be there. Ducky assured her that was fine before hanging up.

"Ducky, I-" Gibbs began, only to stop. He wasn’t sure what to say as he stared out the open door through which they had taken Tony.

"Jethro, you could not have known. Head wounds are a tricky business. You never know what can happen. In normal circumstances Tony might not have had a problem but his body is weak. He has a very nasty strain of the flu and the onset of pneumonia."

"But I know better, Duck. I know any illness can be worse for him. I remember what Dr. Pitt said."

"Yes, you do, but you were a little distracted, not just with getting him better but also with the new feelings that you have. I am sure you can come to terms with yourself over this."

Gibbs was pacing, but he paused long enough to look at Ducky, one corner of his mouth quirked upward. "That obvious, huh?"

"Jethro, you told the boy you loved him. I know even though your shirt is inside out and that you had an erection, nothing happened. I’m just curious as to how that came to be."

"His fever broke, and he was chilled. I was using my body heat to warm him up. Every time I tried to move he cried out. He was having some kind of nightmare and me lying next to him seemed to help."

"As I have been saying for quite some time now, our young Anthony has always wanted more than a working relationship with you."

"Yes, you did. It only took him almost dying, Kate dying and now this to get my stubborn ass in gear."

"Yes, but it is in gear now and I know you will not let go so easily or you would have waited like a sane man for the ambulance to get to the apartment."

"I can’t lose him, Duck."

"You won’t, Jethro."

Dr. Craft entered the room. Gibbs looked up with his piercing blue gaze.

"How is he?" he questioned, not even waiting for the doctor to speak.

"Mr. DiNozzo has a concussion, a little more than minor but nothing too serious. Also with his flu symptoms and the onset of pneumonia he is dehydrated. He should be down in a few minutes, and then we’ll get him a room upstairs. We want him to stay to monitor his condition with the concussion and the pneumonia.

"Thank you, Doctor," Gibbs said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

"Doctor, may I have a word with you outside please?" Ducky asked.

Both doctors left the room as they were pushing Tony in. The young man’s eyes were still closed. The transporter put him into the bay, locked the wheels and walked out. Gibbs went to his side and picked up his hand.

"Hey, you in there?" Gibbs asked, shaking his hand a little.

Tony gave no answer.

"Come on, DiNozzo, you better stop milking it just for the nurses to pay more attention to you," Gibbs said, trying to make light of the problem.

Still there was no reaction from Tony.

"Let’s see those eyes." Gibbs was almost pleading now.

Still Tony didn’t move.

"Damn it, Tony, you have to wake up. The longer you’re out, the more of a possibility of you slipping into a coma," Gibbs said, his voice a bit shaky by now.

Tony began to stir, just little movements that let Gibbs know he was being heard.

"There you go. Come on, wake up," Gibbs said, his tone soft yet firm.

Tony’s eyelids began to move. "Um, what…?"

"There you are. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Boss, where am I?"

"The hospital."

"But I asked-"

"Shh. Your fall was a little more then we thought. You have a concussion, the flu and the onset of pneumonia. The hospital isn’t letting you out of their sight for a few days and neither am I."

Tony sighed. "I guess I messed up again."

"Nope, this one is my fault."

"Now I know I’m going to die."

"And why is that?"

"Jethro Gibbs just admitted to a fault," Tony said, flashing a smile at Gibbs.

Unable to resist, Gibbs leaned in and without thought kissed the younger man. It wasn’t a hard, searching kiss but rather a soft kiss of passion and tenderness and a promise of things to come.

"Boss, I-"

"I know, Tony, I know, and I love you, too," Gibbs said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand.

Tony sniffed, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

"Hey, what’s with the waterworks?"

"I, well, I," Tony stuttered, trying to compose himself. "I’ve wanted you to say that to me for a long time now."

"Then we’re even because I’ve wanted to say it to you for a long time now."

Gibbs was kissing Tony’s warm forehead when a goth chic and a computer geek walked in, hand in hand.

"Right on, Boss," Abby said after witnessing the kiss.

"Abby, McGee, what are the two of you doing here?"

"Ducky called me to fax the results of Tony’s blood work. McGee said you were here, too. I just wanted to make sure our Tony is okay," Abby said as she bounced over to the side of Tony’s bed.

"Hey, Abs," Tony said, smiling at her. No matter how bad he felt, Abby always made him smile.

"You’re okay, right, Tony?"

"Not sure. I think I’m going die."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs warned, knowing where he was going with this.

"No, Tony, you can’t," Abby said, almost in tears from the comment that was meant as a joke.

Tony opened his mouth, ready to tell her he only thought he was dying because Gibbs had not only said he loved him but had admitted to a fault, but he never got the chance
.
"No, Abby, Tony is not dying. He has a concussion on top of the flu and is dehydrated," Ducky said as he came back into the room.

Abby smacked Tony on the shoulder, more of a playful tap than an actual hit. "Not nice, Tony, don’t scare me like that. I can’t lose another friend."

"Sorry, Abby," Tony said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

Touching the shoulder she’d just hit, she said, "What’s the matter, Tony? Didn’t they have designer gowns?"

"Nah, had to go off the rack for this gem," he said, indicating the pale blue gown covering him. He leaned closer to her. "I think it came from Frederick’s of Hollywood. Want to see the open back?"

"Tony," Gibbs said with an exasperated sigh.

Abby winked. "I might take you up on that if I didn’t think the boss-man would mind."

Gibbs just shook his head. He was on one side of the bed, Abby was on the other, and Ducky was standing at the foot. McGee was standing behind Abby, near the wall. Tony looked around her at the younger agent.

"Probie?"

"Tony. You okay?"

"I am now," Tony said, glancing at Gibbs.

McGee looked at Gibbs also. "Boss, the Director is having a fit, wanting to know where you and Tony are."

"Let her stew."

"But, Boss-"

Gibbs shot Tim a look of death, a look that said ‘I know how to kill you and make it look like an accident.’ Abby looked at McGee, too, her look saying, ‘And I know how to cover it up.’ McGee swallowed nervously and tried to get closer to the wall.

"Now, the good doctor said that Anthony will be moved upstairs shortly," Ducky said into the awkwardness, "and that he can have visitors but not to stress him out and to let him get his rest. I have already told him, Jethro, that it will take half the marines and all the navy to keep you away from our lad, and he has agreed to let you stay with him as long as you’re a good boy."

"Good," Tony and Gibbs said at the same time, then smiled at each other.

McGee blinked. He didn’t care that his boss and coworker/friend had a thing for each other. It was just…weird to watch, having never thought of them together this way.

"Okay, McGee, you and Abby go back to Tony’s place and make up an overnight bag for Tony and bring my bag. Don’t forget my shoes," Gibbs added ruefully. "And, McGee…"

Almost to the door, McGee stopped, once again looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Thanks for making up the first bag," Gibbs said, shooting the scared boy a smile.

"Hold the phone. You mean Probie has been in your drawers and I haven‘t been there yet? Oh, that is so not fair."

Gibbs put his hand behind Tony’s head.

"And, Tim," Tony continued with a smile, "stay out of his drawers. They’re mine." He winked at McGee.

McGee smiled shakily, not sure how to take the teasing. This was still just...weird.

The transporter came before Abby and Tim could leave.

"What room are you moving him to, if you please?" Ducky asked the nice young lady.

"He’s going to the 4th floor, room 432. It’s a private room."

"Nice. Hey, you come here often?" Tony questioned with a smile, unable to resist hitting on the young woman as she took him up to this room.

Gibbs shook his head. "DiNozzo, you are incorrigible."