II.

February 2nd, Thursday:

"Ooh, he is adorable!" Abby cooed.

Kate chuckled. "If we were in high school, maybe."

Gibbs managed a faint smirk. He turned the webcam on his new Mac PC over to face in his general direction and spared the sleeping agent on the lumpy red couch a glance, before turning back around. "McGee."

"Background check, right Boss, umm, well, I couldn't exactly find much." The Probie stuttered in response. His face now filled the laptop screen. "His name is Anthony DiNozzo, he will be twenty in six months, and umm, that's it…"

Gibbs glared at the screen for a moment. "That's it?" he asked skeptically.

"Y-yes sir—Boss, I mean. The CIA has pretty much either secured all of his information or erased it, he has no paper trail—he's practically a ghost." McGee squeaked out. He was still new to the team and no matter what Abby said, he didn't think he'd ever get used to Gibbs' direct glare—even through webcam.

Abby sat next to McGee, her pig-tails bouncing. "I helped look, and there's pretty much squat on this guy, Bossman. Everything we did manage to get our hands on was censored paperwork. I'm surprised we even got the guys' name and age." She complained.

Gibbs sighed. "Right. Kate," he called.

She showed up on the screen next to Abby, "Boss."

"As senior field agent, you're in charge. I expect updates. Make sure you collaborate with Fornell and his guys on this one." He ordered.

"Got it Gibbs." She responded, just as he closed the laptop.

Tony had remained asleep for the majority of their trip. Two hours in the car, he'd used his lap as a pillow, and then five whole hours on a plane, he'd used his shoulder as a headrest. After reaching their tiny apartment in the city, Gibbs had started unpacking his things, only to come to the living room and find his roommate for the next month passed out on the couch. That had been four hours ago.

"Kid sleeps like a rock…" Gibbs muttered under his breath, and then set off to bed. Jet lag was hell.

February 3rd, Friday:

Gibbs woke the next morning to the tantalizing aroma of caffeine and pancakes.

"Morning," he offered, as he walked into the dining room.

Tony was busy setting several plates in the middle of the round table. "Sit down, eat; I'm a decent cook."

Gibbs did just that, piling his plate with sausage links, an omelet, a stack of pancakes, and filling his stomach with coffee. "This is good." He commented, chewing with a gusto.

Tony smiled and headed for the fridge, which was surprisingly stocked with a few essentials, and took out a bottle of spring water.

"Not eating?"

"Food makes me puke." Tony replied flippantly.

Gibbs arched a brow.

"I'm not bulimic, agent Gibbs," he assured the older man. "I haven't eaten anything solid in the last two weeks. If I started wolfing down everything in sight now it would only make me sick. Doctor said so. I drank some broth earlier after making a quick pit stop at a 24 hour convenience store." He explained, sipping the water at a slow pace.

Gibbs nodded and continued to eat his breakfast, occasionally glancing up at the CIA agent, whose lean frame sat against the kitchen counter. Usually Gibbs was great with silence; in fact, he was the one who initiated long, uncomfortable silences, but it was odd that it was the other way around for once. "You've been to Phoenix before?" he asked. The kid had seemed to know his way around the place when they'd first arrived at the air port.

"No; we had an agent canvass the area out before deciding on a location. There should be a packet in my backpack with all the info and directions to all the market places, restaurants, parks, theatres, malls, local shopping districts, and gyms within a 20 mile radius of the apartment." Tony let him know, reaching into his bag in the meanwhile and taking out a red plastic packet. He handed it to Gibbs, who'd just finished breakfast and was now finishing off his second cup of coffee.

Gibbs took it with a grunt that Tony discerned was supposed to mean 'Thanks' and rifled through it. "We have gym memberships?" he arched a curious brow.

The younger man nodded. "It's a mens' only gym in town. It's mostly a father son type place-it's called The Wes & Wes Fitness Club. It's owned by father Harold Wes and son Junior Wes. They're the men in charge of the Lodge Penny mentioned; they've held the retreat every month for the last five years without fail." Tony went on, "People getting lost or even reports of fatal accidents at the trail up there aren't actually too uncommon, so no one made a huge fuss over the missing marine and his son last month."

Gibbs made another grunt noise and continued to skim through the red packet.

It wasn't until noon when Gibbs decided to break the silence that had proceeded after breakfast. He'd been busy phoning his team back in DC, and going through the case files, while the CIA agent had amused himself for the last several hours with daytime television. Apparently they had cable. Gibbs knew Kate would probably be incredibly jealous of the luxuries the CIA could afford for their ops, compared to the cramped motel rooms and military aircrafts NCIS often provided them on cases. Gibbs didn't really care for comfort, so long as the job was done right.

"Tell me about yourself." the sentence felt extremely off coming out of the ex gunnerys' mouth, but Gibbs was determined to go through with this undercover operation, and if the only obstacle keeping him from doing so was not knowing a lick of information about the kid, then he was going to fix that, and soon.

Tony blinked up at him from his seat on the couch in front of the T.V. "I'm a Gemini, my favorite food is spaghetti, I like long walks on the beach at sunset-"

Gibbs glared at the agent. "Cut the crap kid, you know what I meant."

The agent actually had the balls to grin at the ex-marine, despite the glare aimed his way-a glare which, as Abby liked to say 'shook even the toughest of criminals to their core'. "I know, I know. Just thought I could try to get a smile out of my tough marine dad." he said, flippantly.

Gibbs nearly smirked at that. "Scooch over." he motioned, as he sat on the couch next to Tony.

"Do you have any family?" Tony wondered out loud.

Gibbs tried not to stiffen at the question. "No." he replied, straight-faced.

Tony nodded. "Your turn."

Gibbs' brows furrowed. "What's that?" he asked.

"20 questions. It's a game. Well, usually it's for love struck teens who wanna' get to know each other, but I think this is fine too, considering." he explained. "It's your turn."

"Alright," Gibbs would play at their little game and hopefully gain some knowledge about his new undercover partner. "How the hell'd you end up working for the CIA?"

Tony tutted. "Agent Gibbs, you should know by now that asking things like that isn't going to get you anywhere. That's classified."

Gibbs shrugged. At least he'd tried. He went on to ask something else when Tony stopped him.

"Nope, my turn. You wasted a turn." Tony grinned.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Go for it kid."

"Have you ever seen this movie, "Funny Game"? It came out in 2007—it was a remake of the original, which was filmed in Germany, equally good, by the way—these two psychos terrorize this family and well—yeah, have you seen it?"

"No." Gibbs frowned. Was he taking this seriously at all?

"I know what you're thinking, it's written all over your stoic face." Tony smiled. "Anyway, just from your reaction to the first four words of my question I can tell you're not into movies or T.V., which is a shame, 'cause I'm a huge fan of both. So, you're either into reading or some recreational hobby—unless you're a workaholic, but even then, you must have some free time, and besides sleep, eat, and shit, you have to have something to amuse yourself with so—"

"A boat." Gibbs admitted. "I'm building a boat."

Tony stopped his yammering long enough to look genuinely interested. "No shit?"

Gibbs only nodded.

"Where are you build—" before Tony could finish, Gibbs interrupted.

"My turn; what you said in the limo and then again at breakfast, elaborate."

Tony shrugged. "That's mostly classified."

Gibbs understood well enough not to pry, despite his peaking curiosity. "Your turn."

"Where are you building that boat of yours? Are you dating some ridiculously rich older broad who lets you build boats in like, her private lake on the weekends? You could pull it off, I think. You're handsome in that rugged, ex-military kind of way." Tony rambled, getting carried away with his own imagination.

Gibbs scoffed, trying to suppress a smirk. "In my basement, and no, I'm not."

"Whoa, basement?" Tony took another bite of his omelet. "I really hope you have some brilliant plan to get it out once you've built the boat. Actually, I saw this movie once, 1997, Tim An—"

"Moving on," Gibbs directed the agent back to focus. "You asked two questions, you forfeit a turn. My turn. Where'd you grow up?"

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment. "Just about everywhere, I guess."

"Gotta' be a little more specific than that. Give me something." Gibbs urged.

The younger man sighed. "Japan, then." he decided. "I spent a few years there when I was a kid."

Gibbs smirked. "What do you mean 'was'?"

Tony grinned and shoved the older man lightly. "Original, Gibbs. 'Cause I've never heard that one before."

Gibbs conceded. "Okay, okay. Next question then."

"Shoot."

"How long have you been with the CIA?" Gibbs asked.

"Two years." Tony replied.

"You're really 19, huh?" Gibbs deadpanned. Tony was a baby.

"Yes, and that counts as one of your questions." Tony smiled. "My turn. Ever been married?"

Gibbs grinned sourly. "Thrice divorced."

Tony scoffed. "Christ Gibbs! Details?"

"Ex wife number one is classified information. Ex wife number two, Dianne, cleaned out my bank account, and ex wife number three, Stephanie, was introduced to me by a very old friend. That counted as three questions, by the way."

Tony booed. "Unfair Gibbs."

"Nobody said life was fair." Gibbs countered. "My turn. How are you feeling?"

Tony startled. "Fine. Why?" He tilted his head.

"You looked like hell yesterday. And from what I've heard, you haven't eaten anything in how long?"

"I was on an op for the last month-I'm not allowed to discuss the details though-Penny would have my head."

"You seem close to your director." Gibbs noted.

Tony shrugged. "She liked me enough to give me a job. Anyway, I'm pretty sure it's my turn. When did you join NCIS?"

"Before the 'C' in NCIS came to be."

Tony grinned. "Man, you're ancient."

Gibbs reached over the couch and head slapped the younger man. "And you're barely out of your diapers." he rebutted.

Tony gaped. "Did you just? You did. You definitely did. Ouch." he rubbed the back of his head. "Jerk." he muttered, his words not matching the grin on his face.

"Hey, it's almost three, let me take you out for lunch." Gibbs patted the kids' shoulder and got up from the couch.

"Ooh, trying to buy my love with food? Smart man." Tony joked, as he grabbed his coat on their way out.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Get in the car."

Their rental car was a beige colored corolla with good mileage and comfortable adjustable seats. Gibbs backed out of their driveway, made a sharp turn, an illegal u-turn and sped down the semi-isolated road.

"Are we chasing a suspect I wasn't aware about?" Tony gripped at the dashboard to keep from flying forward.

"Put your seat belt on, kiddo." was Gibbs only response.

A/N. I haven't given up on this or the majority of my fics for that matter, I just have absolutely zero time to sit down and write anymore. Life has her sharp talons in me and refuses to let go. By September though, hopefully, things should be a lot more stable than they have been and I will have a huge hunk of time during Mondays and Wednesdays to write to my heart's content! I really have missed this. To everyone still following, thank you very much, I'll try to update with less irregularity.