CHAPTER 6 - You Get What You Give

Gibbs held up a hand of caution to stop his agents from following him, and let the swing door shut behind him. No room for anyone else in the small kitchen. Their presence would escalate the danger, and from the look on Senior's face, the danger level was already high.

Senior's face was flushed an unhealthy red, his usually well-coiffed hair in disarray. Mud covered his shoes and was coating one leg of his trousers; there was a tear in the fabric at the knee, and Gibbs caught a glimpse of some blood. He must have tripped, fallen. Been running from something. From Fornell, the FBI agents who'd gone to bring him in for questioning. Who had failed to catch him, apparently.

Tony was standing with his hands raised in submission, barely five feet from his father. He didn't glance at Gibbs when he said, "Everything's under control, Boss."

From the expression on Senior's face, everything was definitely not under control. The man was furious, and clearly not thinking straight. It looked like he might pull the trigger at any moment; Tony was in terrible danger.

Gibbs raised his hands to show Senior he wasn't carrying a weapon. "What's going on here, Chief?" His voice sounded a hell of a lot calmer than he felt. His heart was pounding fast and it was hard to focus. All he could see was the gun, and Tony.

"What's going on?" Although Senior's raised arm was shaking a little, the gun was still pointed at Tony. He made a derisive sound. "You sent the cops after me, that's what's going on, Agent Gibbs!"

"Dad, he didn't–"

"Shut the fuck up!" Senior yelled at Tony. "He's had it in for me right from the start, and you, my own son, you had a hand in it, didn't you? Turned me in, you little piece of shit!"

"Please put down the gun," Tony entreated. "You don't need it." He shifted his weight, as if he planned to step towards his father, but Senior tensed up.

"You try anything, either of you, and I'll shoot Junior's head off," he warned.

The blood drained from Tony's face, and Gibbs knew that at that moment he realized his father had no compunction about killing him. "If your finger so much as twitches, and I'll kill you," Gibbs promised in a low growl.

Senior's eyes flickered in Gibbs' direction for the first time, and Gibbs saw the fury in his eyes, the edge of desperation.

Senior snarled, "You think I don't know what's been going here?" He looked at Tony with such venom that Gibbs was afraid he was going to pull the trigger.

"If you harm him in any way, I'll rip you to pieces," Gibbs promised, edging closer to Tony.

"You're the one I blame," accused Senior. "You corrupted my son! He looked up to you, and you took advantage of that! You knew he was weak, looking for something. You're his boss, for Chrissake! You dragged him into your… your unnatural–"

"Please Dad, you don't understand. Gibbs is–" Tony started.

Gibbs cut him off, saying, "Don't waste your breath, Tony." Explaining anything, like how they felt about each other, was only going to fan the flames.

Tony turned his head and their eyes met. "Sorry, Gibbs, I broke rule 9."

"Yeah? Well, I didn't," Gibbs replied. Before Senior could say anything more, Gibbs took a step closer and said firmly, "We know about the money, the Caymans, about you and Gwen Van Buren. Hunt wouldn't have killed Lt. Massey if you hadn't put the idea in his head." That shook Senior, he could tell.

"You can't do this to me! I've earned that money! How dare you interfere in my business?" Senior ranted.

Tony replied, "Because it's my job, Dad! I saw Gwen's picture and I remembered, everything, walking in on you all those years ago… how could you? She was only sixteen!"

"What? Who cares how old she was?" Senior asked, his features twisting in scorn. "It doesn't matter. We're good together. We're going to finish what we started, now that prick Massey is out of the way."

"That was your idea, was it? You worked with the lawyer to get rid of Massey," suggested Gibbs, while trying to decide whether he could risk jumping Senior, or if it was a fool move. He might be able to disarm him, but at this distance the chance of Tony getting shot was high. He didn't like the odds, not at all, but Senior wasn't exactly stable and any minute he might lose it, and get off a shot anyway.

Senior shook his head. "Massey was going to ruin our deal; we stood to lose millions." As he spoke, his arm lowered a little. The gun was still aimed at Tony, his chest now, and Gibbs could tell Tony was contemplating making a move.

Gibbs stepped closer to Tony, and now they were side-by-side, facing Senior. Tony glanced at him and his eyes pled, 'Don't,' as clearly as if he'd said the word aloud.

Gibbs shook his head and smiled sardonically, as if he thought Senior was incredibly stupid. "You're digging your own grave here, Chief."

"You can't prove anything," Senior said to Gibbs, his eyes narrowing. "Now, I came here for my things. Send that kid in there, the one who works with Ducky, up to fetch them. Once I've got them, I'll leave. That's all that's going to happen here."

"I don't have to prove anything." Shrugging, Gibbs said confidently, "Even if you managed to get past Tony and me, the rest of my team'll bring you down. They'll be covering all the exits by now. And don't even think about using one of us as a hostage. Like Ziva will be happy to point out to you, Mossad doesn't negotiate. And neither does NCIS. Besides, we've already re-routed the money, and we have your passport. You're not goin' anywhere, Chief. So put down the gun. We can end this peacefully."

For a second, it looked as though Senior was about to buckle, but his expression hardened. He sneered, "You don't have a weapon or you'd have used it by now, so piss off. I know your people; they'll never risk your life, Gibbs, they're so fucking loyal. And you won't do anything so long as I have Junior here, acting as my own personal shield." All of a sudden, before Gibbs could react, Senior reached out and grabbed Tony's arm, yanking him towards him.

Tony fell into his father, got his arm free and grappled with him, somehow keeping the gun aimed at the ceiling. Gibbs jumped in to take control of the weapon. He seized Senior's wrist, twisted it hard, and wrenched the gun out of his hand. He got one of Senior's arms locked in a hold behind his back, but the man shouted obscenities and struck out blindly with his free arm. His closed fist hit Tony on the side of the head. Tony's head flew back; he crashed against the counter, staggered, remained on his feet and threw a punch. Blood spurted from Senior's nose. He lurched, screaming, hand to his face, and collapsed against the back door.

There was a blur of motion, and Senior was facedown on the kitchen floor, with Ziva on his back. Senior struggled, spewing, "You can't do this to me! Get off me! My nose! He broke my nose!"

Gibbs got out of the way, letting them handle it. He unloaded the gun and tossed it in the sink, then went to Tony, who was leaning against the counter, as far away from his father as was possible in the small kitchen.

One of Senior's hands was still free and he was grabbing for anything he could get his hand on. McGee, gun drawn, stepped on his wrist until Ziva could restrain him. She jammed her knee into Senior's back and grabbed a fistful of hair, making him yowl in pain. "If you do not shut up, I will be forced to cut out your tongue!" She pulled out her cuffs and ratcheted them tightly on Senior's wrists.

McGee kept his gun aimed at the man on the floor, but the fight seemed to have gone out of DiNozzo Sr. "You should have called us in, Boss," McGee said, sounding displeased.

Abby stood in the doorway, with Palmer and Ducky nearby, looking angry and upset. Palmer brandished the carving knife and fork they'd used on the turkey, and Ducky had a wicked looking corkscrew clasped firmly in his hand. Abby said, "Yeah, we were waiting for your bat-signal, Gibbs!" She held a snub-nosed revolver at her side, muzzle aimed at the floor, her finger on the guard. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her weapon, and her chin went up. "You think I'm the kind of girl who brings pepper spray to a fight? Not me, mister!"

Tony leaned heavily against Gibbs, the heel of his hand pressed to the side of his head. "What happened, Boss? I thought you were gonna pull out your Zero Tolerance knife," he said, his attempt at a laugh shaky.

His heart still beating way too fast, Gibbs took hold of Tony's upper arm to steer him out of the kitchen. "They bring a gun, you can't flash a knife."

Tony stopped and stared at Gibbs in amazement. "You're quoting Sean Connery?"

"If I went for him with the knife, he'd have shot you. I couldn't risk that," Gibbs explained testily. "Thought I'd distract him a little. You're always telling me to use more words."

"So you made him so angry, he'd want to shoot you instead of me? That was your plan?" Tony snapped.

Gibbs shrugged. "I had to do something. He was going to…You're bleeding, Tony." Tony raised his hand to probe at his head, where the hair was now wet with blood, but Gibbs was quick to take Tony's hand in his. "You need to sit down," he said, his voice low. "Please, Tony." Realizing that all eyes were upon him, Gibbs scowled at his people. "Do you always come to Thanksgiving dinner armed to the teeth?"

The ME put his impromptu weapon aside and quickly went to the fridge. He wrapped ice in a kitchen towel and handed it to Tony. "Allow me to look at that in the living room."

Tony held the ice pack to the side of his head, above his ear, and said, "It was just a fist."

"I shall be the judge of that," Ducky replied, eyeing Tony in a manner suggesting he should know by now not to defy him. Tony sighed and agreed, but he stopped in the doorway to have a last look at his father.

Ziva was hauling DiNozzo Sr. to his feet. Senior groaned and coughed, and complained at the rough treatment. He was a mess, blood from his broken nose streaming down his face and staining his shirt. She snorted and asked, "What should I do with this…khazerai?"

Not needing a translation, Gibbs ordered, "Take him outside and cuff him to the front porch. McGee, call Fornell and tell him to get the hell over here to pick up his garbage." Gibbs walked over to Senior, needing to get in the last word. "You're going down, Chief, and I'm gonna see to it they bury you so deep you'll never see the light of day again," he growled.

Senior glared at Gibbs and then spat a mouthful of blood at him. "You fucking fag." Ziva tightened her grip on him from behind, pulling his cuffed wrists high enough to make him bow forward. Senior screamed and struggled, to no avail.

Abby made a move to go after Senior, shouting, "You can't do this to my friends!" Palmer quickly grabbed the angry woman, and pulled her out of the too-crowded kitchen, saying soothingly, "He's not worth it. You don't have to sink to his level, Abby."

Gibbs muttered, "The hell with sinking to his level," and to a chorus of "Gibbs, don't!" he punched Senior in the stomach, following up with a swift uppercut to the jaw. Senior collapsed to the floor, groaning. "Get that piece of trash out of my house," Gibbs ordered, and turned his back on the man. He gently led Tony to the living room, saying, "C'mon, Tony, we need to look at your head."

Tony seemed to be in shock, looking over his shoulder as Ziva opened the back door and hauled Senior out, accompanied by McGee. "But…"

"No. Enough."

Tony stared at Gibbs for a moment before going with him into the quiet of the living room. He'd only taken a couple of steps when his knees buckled and he started to fall. Luckily, Gibbs was right there and supported him until Palmer came to the rescue. Between the two men, they got Tony safely to the couch.

Tony sank into the soft cushions with a moan. "No, I'm…I'm…"

"If you say you're fine, DiNozzo…" Gibbs warned. He didn't like the way Tony looked, pale, his eyes unfocused.

Ducky gently pushed Gibbs to one side, his attention on Tony. "Go and clean up, Jethro. Abigail, if you would be so kind, my bag is in the Morgan. In the boot." Abby rushed out to fetch it.

"What? I'm not leaving–."

Tony, who looked as though he was going to puke at any moment, said, "You've got…his blood on you."

Gibbs looked down. He'd forgotten that Senior had spit on him; there was blood spatter on his shirt and trousers, but what the hell? It wasn't anything to be alarmed about.

It was Palmer who pointed out, "Considering Mr. DiNozzo's reputation with the ladies, sleeping with everyone from coast to coast, and beyond, I certainly wouldn't want his blood on me."

"Wash up, Jethro," Ducky directed, carefully inspecting the damage to Tony's head. "Anthony has an open wound here. Mr. Palmer, if you would ring for an ambulance."

"Of course, Doctor."

Abby rushed in with a well-worn leather bag in hand. "Here you go, Ducky."

The ME donned a pair of latex gloves before pulling out a blood pressure cuff. Ignoring Tony's groan of reluctance, Ducky wrapped it around his arm and pumped it up while asking him if he felt dizzy, nauseous or weak.

Tony blinked slowly a couple of times. "Yes," he admitted, closing his eyes.

"Shit," Gibbs swore. Before he went upstairs for a hot shower, he leaned over Tony and asked in a low voice, "Tony? You're gonna be okay. Understand?"

Tony's response was to flap a hand at him. "Mmm. Go."

Ducky said, "Anthony's pressure is a little low, but that's to be expected. I assure you he is safe in my hands, Jethro."

"Ducky…"

"Use plenty of that marine soap you favor, and by the time you are done, I expect the ambulance will be here. Mr. Palmer, please pass me some gauze and…yes, that's it."

But Gibbs wasn't moving an inch until he looked into Tony's eyes and saw for himself that he was okay. "Tony?"

Tony opened his eyes and managed a wan smile. "Sure. Ev'thing's under control here. Move along. Nothing to see. Hey, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, Tony?"

Tony caught him by the sleeve. "Get me something to barf in, will ya?"

It was with great reluctance that Gibbs left Tony's side, but he figured if he hurried, he'd be back, all scrubbed and fresh, by the time the ambulance arrived. As he climbed the stairs, Gibbs heard Tony saying to Ducky, "He takes good care of me, y'know." And Ducky responding, "Yes, my boy, I can tell."

• T • G • T • G • T • G •

When the FBI turned up at Gibbs' house, they found their escaped suspect secured to the front porch railing with several heavy bicycle chains, and Gibbs and his colleagues sitting around the living room. Ziva was eating pumpkin pie, and everyone seemed to be watching Gibbs, who appeared to be watching Tony, who was slumped on the couch.

Gibbs held an ice pack to Tony's head. Even from across the room, Fornell could see a large bruise on the left side of Tony's face, and the area around his eye was swollen. Gibbs was seated very close to Tony, one hand on his shoulder, as if to keep him upright. Fornell gave them a hard time about interrupting his Thanksgiving dinner, but they all knew he wasn't serious; his daughter's cooking was almost as bad as her mother's, which was reputed to be deadly.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, and although Mr. DiNozzo Sr. appeared to need emergency medical care, Gibbs and Ducky made sure that Tony got priority.

Tony objected to being made to lie down on the gurney the EMTs brought into the house. He didn't like the questions they asked, or the light shone in his eyes, nor the blood pressure cuff or IV needle, or the way they discussed his care as if he wasn't there. He never once complained about Gibbs holding his hand, though, or the way Gibbs threatened the ambulance crew when they didn't want him to ride along.

The ambulance carrying Tony, and Gibbs, left long before a second ambulance arrived to transport DiNozzo Sr. to another hospital – another demand Gibbs had made. "A matter of security," he'd said.

McGee and Ziva drove to the FBI offices to assist them with their interrogation of DiNozzo Sr. and Gwen Van Buren. Ms. Van Buren had been picked up at the airport, a ticket to Grand Cayman in her hand. Ducky, meanwhile, accompanied by Jimmy, with Abby following in her own car, hurried to the hospital to wait with Gibbs while Tony was assessed.

After he'd been evaluated by an ER physician and a neurologist, and subjected to a CT, Tony was left to wait for the results. Clad in a skimpy hospital gown, covered in a thin blanket, he looked pallid and worn out. The bruises to his face were changing from red to bluish purple, but the application of ice around his eye seemed to be taking the swelling down.

A nurse sutured the gash above his ear where he'd been struck by his father's fist, but apart from the injections to numb the area, Tony said he didn't feel any pain. "None?" she asked.

"Not there. More…inside my head." Tony admitted.

"Can you tell me the level of pain?"

"Oh, I'm not very good at that…"

"DiNozzo…" Gibbs warned.

Tony sighed and pulled a face only the nurse could see. "Six, maybe?"

"I'll get you something for it," said the nurse. She returned a while later and inserted a needle into Tony's IV before he could say anything.

A combination of exhaustion and medications sent Tony to sleep before the nurse had even left the examination room.

Gibbs sat, straight-backed, on an uncomfortable chair beside Tony's bed, with a paper cup of hospital coffee in his hand. He was just wishing he had thought to bring a thermos of his own coffee, or if he could get someone to bring him some decent coffee from the doctor's lounge, when Tony stirred in the bed.

"Mmm. Can we go now?"

"Nope. Not 'til the doc says you're okay."

Tony blinked and said stubbornly, "I told you I'm fine, Boss."

"Shut up, DiNozzo."

Tony's mouth opened in shock at Gibbs' sharp retort. "I think I know if I'm fine!" He found the controls and raised the head of the bed.

"You don't know what fine means," Gibbs groused.

"Actually," said Ducky, "considering the force with which you were struck, you are lucky to walk away with nothing more serious than a mild concussion."

"They haven't said it's a mild concussion or otherwise yet," Gibbs said.

"Ah, well, I snuck a look at the scans and there are no signs of bleeding or anything to be concerned about," Ducky pronounced. "A little bed rest, limited visual stimulation…he should be back to his normal self in a week or so. Of course you have to wait for the attending physician to confirm that."

"Thanks, Ducky," Tony said with a small smile.

"I am only sorry that it happened at all," said Ducky.

"I think we can all agree to that," Jethro said with a firm nod.

Palmer came in with Abby, carrying a tray of Starbucks coffee. He handed a large to Gibbs while asking, "How're you feeling, Tony?"

"I wanna go home," Tony said, picking at the blanket.

"Hey Tony," said Abby. "How many stitches did you have?"

Tony raised his hand to touch the bandage adhered to his head. "Seven, I think. Did she shave my hair off?"

Gibbs was quick to send a stern look his way. "You keep touching it and you're gonna lose more than a few hairs that'll grow back."

"What? I can't ask a few questions about what's going on?"

"You only had a small area shaved, okay?" Gibbs said unsympathetically. "We'll leave when they say we can leave."

Palmer piped up, "The doctors are most likely looking for less obvious damage. Your orbital bones could easily be fractured, and fractured bones can very well puncture the eye, or damage blood vessels or nerves."

"Gee, thanks, Jimmy," Tony said.

Abby added, "Just accept it, Tony, even if you only have a concussion, you're going to be on bed rest, and checked every hour, and that means Gibbs is going to have to be with you 24/7, watching over you, and taking care of you, because you've been injured and traumatized by that…that horrible man who lied, and pretended that he cared about us!"

"Abby," Ducky warned.

"Okay, I forgot, don't mention him. Lips zipped." To seconds later, she was talking again. "Anyway, so Gibbs will bring you all your favorite foods, and entertain you, and… and hug you… and just be there to take care of you." She grinned and then swooped in to hug Tony, whispering in his ear, "And it's about time you two stopped sneaking around. Like we don't know what's going on." She rolled her eyes.

Tony was looking at Gibbs, as if for confirmation, so Gibbs jerked a thumb in their friends' direction, and said, "Like they said. Not sure about the entertaining part, though."

When Tony laughed, he winced. His hand went to his head and he made a small sound of pain. Gibbs grabbed his hand and pulled it away. "Stop touching it," he ordered. He didn't release Tony's hand, and when Tony tried to pull away, Gibbs just held on tighter. Tony gave up and Gibbs smiled, even though they had a small audience.

Ducky smiled benevolently at them. "I would stay here and offer you a lift home, but I'm afraid my Morgan does not have the room."

"We're fine with a cab," said Gibbs.

"You're taking me back to NCIS, doctor, so I'll get my car and come back here," Palmer said with a smile. "I'll be happy to take you home. To Gibbs' home."

Tony accepted the kind offer for the both of them.

Ducky herded Palmer towards the door. "Make sure you ring me if you have any concerns, Jethro."

"Will do, Ducky."

Abby gave Tony a kiss on the cheek. "Okay, I'm going to clean up your house–"

"You don't have to do that," Gibbs said.

Abby continued as if he hadn't spoken, "–and then I'm going to see what evidence we have that the FBI needs with regards to the you-know-what that you-know-who has been doing."

Tony said, "You don't have to talk around it, Abbs. We all know what he did."

"We do now. It's just that I… I never thought he was like that, and I hate it that I never saw any signs, and that we were all taken in by his smooth ways," Abby said.

"You know how he smiles, showing all his teeth?" Tony asked, leaning towards Abby as if he were telling her a great secret. She nodded. "He coats his teeth with Vaseline so his lips slide back easily."

"Eeew!"

Tony nodded wisely. "I saw it in a movie once. Beauty pageant. Smile, that was the name. 1970-something." He yawned and complained, "How much longer is the doctor gonna be, Jethro? I want to go to bed."

Abby waved and headed out the door.

Right on cue, the doctor came in along with an assistant bearing a sheaf of papers. Take-home instructions, Gibbs knew. The doctor assured them that Tony's injury was limited to bruising and concussion, but recited the usual drill of things to look out for: confusion, strange behavior, not making sense, trouble with vision… Tony mouthed the words of the doctor, knowing the instructions by heart, until Gibbs gave his arm a light smack.

Finally Tony was released, and Palmer drove them back to Gibbs' home. He saw them inside, and made sure they were okay before leaving.

Both men were exhausted by then, so they were pleasantly surprised to find that Abby had, as she'd promised, cleared up and stored all the uneaten Thanksgiving food in the fridge. The kitchen floor had been washed with disinfectant, but Gibbs noticed some bloodstains in the grout, which would never come out. The pungent smell made Tony back out, looking a bit green. "Go right up to bed," Gibbs instructed. For once, Tony did as he was told without so much as a sigh.

By the time Gibbs had locked up, and called Ducky to let him know they were home safe, it was late. He quietly entered their bedroom, where they slept in the king-sized bed he'd built himself. He'd started working on it the day Tony had agreed to move in, four years ago. They'd been together for a year at that point, but Gibbs had known he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Tony within weeks of beginning a relationship with him.

Now Tony was lying on his side of the bed, pillows piled up under his poor bruised head. His eyes were closed but Gibbs didn't think he was asleep yet.

Leaving the bathroom nightlight on, Gibbs slipped under the covers and settled with a sigh. God, what a day, what a nightmare. Tony hadn't said anything about his father since the ruckus in the kitchen, other than teasing Abby about his Vaseline-coated teeth, but it must be weighing heavily on his mind. Tony may be too exhausted and hurting to deal with it tonight, but his father's actions were sure to hit him full force the next day. Tony took things to heart, and then tried to suppress his feelings, but Gibbs knew how to draw him out. It took patience and a gentle sort of interrogation to get Tony to reveal his innermost thoughts and feelings.

As far as Gibbs was concerned, he didn't want to ever mention the man's name again, not in his home, anyway. He would not allow Tony to bear the burden of his father's callous, selfish, and outright criminal ways. He didn't even want to think of Senior as being related to Tony. The second he struck Tony down, all ties had been cut. Senior meant nothing to either of them any more. He would never hurt Tony again.

Tony's soft words cut into Gibbs' thoughts. "You know, I can hear you thinking," he said. Gibbs could hear the smile in Tony's voice.

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"It was bound to happen someday," Tony said, regret and sorrow coloring his voice.

"I never expected it to go down like that," Gibbs admitted.

"It's over. Done. He's not coming back."

"I'm sorry you got hurt," said Gibbs, knowing how close they'd come to being seriously hurt, not only Tony but all of them.

Tony sighed deeply and rolled over, throwing one arm across Gibbs' stomach. Tony kissed Gibbs' neck, the only bare skin he could reach, but Gibbs turned his head and found Tony's mouth. He kissed him slowly, lovingly, rolling over so he could take him in his arms. Tony responded sweetly, gently cupping Gibbs' jaw with one hand. They kissed for a while, comforting, soothing, reassuring each other with kisses. When they moved apart, it was only so Tony could rest his cheek on Gibbs' warm shoulder.

"I love you," Tony said, so quietly Gibbs barely heard it.

"I love you, too," Gibbs replied, kissing the top of Tony's head. "I want to take away your hurt. I hate that I can't."

Tony was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "You do. Every day. I don't know what I'd do without you, or even who I'd be. It's like you're part of me."

"You'd still be you, if we'd never met."

"I wouldn't be the same though, not really. You've influenced me, my life. So has McGee, Ziva, everyone." Tony sighed. "I was going to take a few days off, you know."

"When?"

"Back when we first met. Baltimore. I was planning to take Wendy on a romantic weekend, and to ask her to marry me. But my captain wanted me to work overtime, and I needed the money, so…"

"So we only met because you wanted some extra cash?"

Tony nodded against Gibbs' chest, and his hand slid down to fondle Gibbs' cock through his PJ bottoms. "Good thing I'm greedy."

Gibbs chuckled. "Yeah, I know all about you being greedy." He rested his hand on top of Tony's, stopping him from going any further. "But that'll have to wait. We need to sleep. I'm going to be waking you up every hour, all night long. You need to be alert enough to answer questions."

Tony groaned. "Don't ask me presidents and dates. I suck at those. Ask me movie questions, okay?"

"Movie questions? Even if I think of any, I won't know if you got the answers right," Gibbs pointed out.

"Then ask me something else." Tony yawned and hugged Gibbs.

Gibbs thought a minute, then asked, "You mean like questions to ask on a date?"

Tony raised his head, interested. "A date? Where'd you get an idea like that, Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

Gibbs squirmed a little and smiled. "I read a magazine while you were getting your head scanned."

Tony snorted softly. "Test me."

"Okay…" He thought for a moment and asked, "If you could wake up tomorrow having gained one quality or ability, what would it be?"

"To be truthful, not always feeling like I have to say something to impress people; to be the real me. Or to be able to hold off on my orgasm longer; you always make me come too soon. Or maybe reading people's minds. X-ray vision, the ability to fly, or to time travel, to… "

Gibbs snorted. "Let's not get into superpowers. And your timing is exactly right. I like you coming before I do. As far as being truthful, you're plenty truthful when you're with me."

"That's because I trust you," Tony said softly. "Okay, give me another one."

"Go to sleep."

"Just one more," Tony mumbled.

Gibbs thought for a minute, then said, "Make a 'we' statement."

Tony was silent for so long Gibbs thought he'd gone to sleep, but eventually he said, "Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I think I'm dead. Just for a second."

"Tony!"

Tony touched Gibbs' arm reassuringly. "It's okay. A second later, I feel my heart beating, and it's so full of love for you, and it's so intense, I don't know how it is that nobody can tell what I'm feeling. I know that nothing is certain, and life is really hard at times, and after today…well, I can't even begin to think about what kind of impact it's going to have on me, on us…but being with you, knowing how much you love me, that we're a we, and that we're stronger together than apart, well, that's what makes me feel alive."

Gibbs swallowed, not knowing what to say in response. But in the end, all he had to do was kiss Tony, and hold him in his arms, and promise him they'd get through this together, and that everything would be all right. And for some strange reason that Gibbs could never quite fathom, Tony believed him.

The • T • G • T • G • T • G • End