Its a sequel! (Dance dance dance dance!)

2 important things to know before starting this story-

1. Sequel to Bricks of Clay. You will be so confused if you read this first. If you want to be confused, go for it! I don't judge.

2. This is not slash, but it is a heterosexual Life partner story. For those of you who are a little unsure of what that is, heterosexual life partner is defines as "Two extremely close friends or partners, of the same gender, who are as close or closer than a romantic couple. They aren't romantically linked, but they might suffer withdrawals from not being around each other."

I hope that clears things up for you.

Read and be happy! Or cranky. Or sleepy. Whatever suits your fancy.

"What the hell are you doing?"

His voice was amused and slightly smothered as if hidden behind a hand.

"What's it look like DiNozzo?" He growled reaching up and trying to jerk the curtain off the rod.

"Well, it looks like you're hanging from the shower curtain. I could be wrong though, happens on occasion."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and braced his feet against the wall. He just needed some leverage…

"Is this some kind of marine training exercise?" Tony asked, kneeling next to the bathtub and tilting his head so that he could meet his eyes as the older man was now hanging partially upside down. "Cause I'm suddenly picturing a whole bunch of buzz cuts wrestling with rubber ducky themed shower curtains."

Gibbs snagged the top of the curtain and gave it a sharp tug. It didn't budge.

"You're the one who gave me the stupid thing. Damn ducks." Gibbs twisted and found himself facing the floor with his feet now up in the air, the plastic curtain somehow holding his entire weight.

"I love ducks." Tony said with no inflection, but Gibbs could still tell he was smiling. "Besides, find another curtain that could hold you up like that."

Gibbs couldn't take it anymore. He swung his arm out and hit Tony's side with frustration. "DiNozzo!"

Tony laughed and stepped forward, his hand sliding under Gibbs' shoulders as he climbed on the edge of the bathtub. The curtain was twisted several times over his left foot, then wrapped on his knee, forcing his leg to bend and cross over his right leg, tangling them both.

"Honestly though, how did you manage this? This is a whole new level of how the hell."

Gibbs sighed as he let his head fall back on Tony's thigh, giving up on staying upright.

"There's a slight possibility that I wasn't quite…together when I came in the bathroom."

Tony paused, suddenly understanding. Gibbs could hear him swallow as he forced lightness in his voice. "You know, when I get drunk I just pass out on your sofa, I don't go boxing with shower curtains. How long have you been like this?"

Gibbs relaxed, the edges of his mouth twitching up with gratitude at what Tony wasn't saying. He ignored the second question and focused on seeing straight as all the blood rushed to his head.

"I figure you make my life so difficult at work, I might as well complicate yours at home."

Tony sighed. "Now that hurts Jethro."

Tony found the right twist and pulled gently and Gibbs suddenly slipped from the grasp of the duck covered cloth. Tony gasped as Gibbs' weight crashed into him, knocking both of them into the bathtub.

Tony let his head lay on the bottom of the tub. "You know, this never happened when I was at Baltimore."

Gibbs woke with a gasp.

What was that?

He rolled to his side and looked at the bedside clock, groaning when he saw that it was approaching three in the morning. Gibbs sat up, holding his head in his hands and letting his upper body lean on his knees.

When he told Tony he wanted his memories back, he had hoped they would come in some kind of order, or at least make sense.

Not ducks and bathtubs and tackling his SFA into a bathtub.

Although, comparatively, he preferred this to the nightmares.

He started to lay back down when something bitter and familiar drifted under his door.

Gibbs swiveled and pushed himself out of bed.

Someone was making coffee.

Coffee.

He stumbled towards the door, opening it and breathing in deeply.

Coffee.

Gibbs walked silently down the hall, intent on discovering why someone was in his kitchen so late and, more importantly, getting a mug.

He made it to the top of the stairs when he paused and turned back around, something playing just on the edge of his mind. He quietly crept to the bathroom and stood outside of it for a never ending moment. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

Rubber ducky shower curtain. It looked slightly longer in the middle, as if something had stretched it out.

Gibbs swallowed tightly and turned away, heading back to his kitchen.

The percolator was popping, coffee bubbling in the pot. The scent permeated the room, making it feel warm and familiar in the cool fall night.

"You know, I hate coffee. I started drinking it when you were gone, but it always tasted awful. Somehow though, I can't stop making it."

Gibbs spun and furrowed his eyebrows when he saw Tony curled in a dining room chair, holding a steaming mug in his hands.

"I don't know if it's the smell, making me think of…" Tony trailed off, letting a finger run over the rim of the mug. "My dad loves coffee. Hardly ever drinks it though. When I was kid I knew it was going to be a quiet day whenever he started his morning with a mug. A good day."

Tony's eyes had a faraway look and Gibbs' attention was drawn to the bottle of pain meds he was spinning on the table.

He reacts badly to pain medication. Makes him loopy. Or morose.

The knowledge hit him roughly, no memories attached, just a complete and total knowing.

Gibbs nodded and poured himself a mug before sliding into the chair across from Tony. There were dark circles under Tony's eyes, his face was pale and drawn. Gibbs eyed his long fingers playing with the bottle. The digits were thinner than they should have been. The knuckles wide against the tight skin. Gibbs forced his gaze away and attempted to focus on something else.

"Why did it mean the day would be quiet?" he asked, grabbing on the first thing he could.

Tony slowly blinked at him, as if he just realized that Gibbs was there. "Haven't we already talked about this?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Not that I can remember."

Tony frowned at him, then, suddenly, smiled. "Oh yeah. You don't remember anything. Your head got blown up. Boom." Gibbs winced and Tony tightened his grip on his mug, staring somewhere into the distance over Gibbs' shoulder. There was a breath of silence before Tony began to speak again. "My dad was a drinker. Not like you. The bad kind. All the time. Slammed doors, shouted, broke…" Tony waved his hand around absently, "things. Whenever he had coffee he was coming off a vicious hangover and would stick to his study all day. Wouldn't drink that night. It would be… quiet." He sighed at the last word as if quiet was the most precious thing he had ever come across. "It's never quiet anymore. There's always something. A complaint, some anger, more orders. Lies, a threat, screaming… Never quiet."

Gibbs held his mug close to him, unsure of how to respond, how to react to the fuzzy honesty. How he would have reacted, if the world was spinning on like it should. He looked around himself aimlessly for a moment before blurting out- "Did you give me the duck shower curtain?"

Tony's head shot up form his contemplation of his still full mug of coffee, meeting Gibbs' eyes for the first time since he showed up in the kitchen. "You needed a new one. The ducks made you smile when we passed it in the store."

"Oh." Gibbs still felt something here was missing. "Did I get stuck in it?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You get stupid when you're drunk." He picked up the bottle of pills and studied them closely. "Does this say one every two to four hours or two to four every hour?"

Gibbs' eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward, snatching the bottle from Tony's hands. "How about you let me worry about this for a while?"

Tony shrugged and took a sip of the coffee before grimacing. "This tastes like shit."

Gibbs snorted and placed his mug on the table. "You make awful coffee."

He stepped over to Tony and gently grabbed his arm. "Let's go back to bed okay?"

Tony looked at him for an endless beat of time and then nodded. Gibbs smiled at him and carefully helped him to his feet, ever mindful of his bandaged legs.

"I took your Ray Charles album."

Gibbs started as he began to lead Tony out of the room. "I have Ray Charles albums? I don't like blues."

Tony gave him a look and sighed. "You didn't. But then you did."

Gibbs frowned and helped him up the stairs. "I hate the blues."

Tony laughed once, sharp and tired. "You are the blues."

"Oh." How can you respond to that? "Why did you take them?"

Tony shrugged. "Why does anyone do anything?"

With that bit of wisdom, Gibbs pushed open the door to Tony's room. It looked different than he remembered. The original guest room was tan, red quilt on the bed and bare walls. It was supposed to be Shannon's project. A room she was going to create. He didn't remember her finished product. The room didn't feel like her touch though.

Pale blue walls with framed black and white photographs. A dark green comforter. White washed bookcases in the corner. Duct taped bean bag chair in squished between them and the wall.

It was strange and eclectic and unfamiliar.

But Tony relaxed as they walked through the door and he made a beeline to the bed. Dropping to the mattress he sighed deeply, curling his battered legs up to his chest. Gibbs felt something hollow and tired stir in his chest and he drew the blankets over the young man's frame.

He dropped his hand on top of Tony's shaggy hair and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Goodnight Tony."

He started out of the room when Tony's quiet voice called him back. "Gibbs. I'm not going to remember this in the morning."

Gibbs paused, waiting. Knowing something was coming.

Tony hesitated and turned so his bright eyes pinned Gibbs in place. "I miss you."

He hurt. Deep down further than anyone could touch. He hurt.

Tony's eyes fluttered closed and Gibbs grabbed the door edge, gripping it tightly till he believed the wood would splinter.

"I miss you too."