Tony lay on his bed fully clothed; partly because he was too tired to undress and partly because, with Gibbs in the next room, he somehow expected a call to arms at any time so couldn't relax. Eventually, however, after imagining Kate and Ziva swimming round their bowl, he succumbed to the lure of sleep.

He woke a couple of hours later feeling hot and sweaty as the effects of the cold made themselves known. He groaned as he felt the tickle in his throat and decided to go and have a hot shower to try and make himself feel better.

Fifteen minutes later, wearing soft corduroy pants and three sweaters of varying thicknesses, he emerged into the living room and stopped short at the sight before him. Gibbs was fast asleep on Tony's couch and was clutching a biography of Charlie Chaplin to his chest. Tony gazed in fascination as Gibbs slumbered on. Usually Gibbs had the hearing of a bat so it was odd that he hadn't woken up with the sound of the shower going. Tony shrugged and decided it was best to let sleeping Gibbses lie as, suddenly mindful of the need to be quiet, he tiptoed to the kitchen.

Once there he decided to make a hot drink to soothe his throat and to take a look at Ducky's cold remedies. He winced when he saw Ducky had provided a bottle of his home made cough syrup, Mallard Medicinal, the ingredients of which included rutabaga, dandelions, peppermint and camomile. It had proved effective in the past although not in the way that Ducky intended: one sniff of the medicine made Tony resolve to get better before he needed to take any.

Tony was more pleased to see that Ducky had included some cherry burst cold tablets and he decided to take some to try to relieve his shivery feeling. It was only as he dropped the tablets into his glass of water that he recalled the occupant of his couch. Sure enough the sound of the fizzing woke Gibbs up.

It took a moment or two for Gibbs to remember where he was but as a person who prided himself on always being aware of his surroundings he soon realised that he had fallen asleep in DiNozzo's apartment. He was puzzled, however, that he had slept so soundly and comfortably. Gibbs wasn't someone who enjoyed sleeping, for him sleeping was something which had to be done to keep the body going but was, essentially, a waste of time. He couldn't understand how some people seemed to enjoy the prospect of going to bed to sleep. Gibbs rarely bothered to go to bed but preferred just to take brief catnaps. His training as a sniper meant that he had learned to sleep lightly, always ready for action and he kept to that habit in civilian life.

Somehow, however, on DiNozzo's couch he had slept heavily and soundly. Gibbs lay for a few moments trying to work out this oddity; he wondered if it had something to do with the feeling of safety and security he felt in DiNozzo's apartment but this also seemed weird. Shaking his head as he decided to think about this later, he swung his legs to the floor and sat up.

"Coffee?" offered Tony.

Gibbs decided to try and be a good guest. "What you having?" he asked, willing to go along with Tony.

"Hot lemon and honey and cherry burst cold pills," said Tony.

"Coffee will be fine," said Gibbs. He moved into the kitchen to supervise. "How's the cold?" he asked.

"Two ninths of the way through," said Tony.

"What?"

"You know. It's the second day. Colds – three days coming, three days here, three days going. At least that's what my grandmother used to say."

"I don't know anything about colds," said Gibbs.

"Have you really never had a cold, Boss?" asked Tony.

"Nope," said Gibbs.

"Huh," said Tony, "guess it must be Nature's way of preserving the species."

"What?" asked Gibbs.

"You know. I'm trying to imagine how grumpy you'd be if you had a cold. The rest of us probably wouldn't survive," said Tony with the air of having solved a mystery.

"I'd suck it up," said Gibbs, "you wouldn't know I had a cold."

"If you say so, Boss," said Tony. "You hungry? I'm going to feed my cold. You know, feed a cold, and starve a fever. Well, you probably don't … and I don't know what you do if you have a feverish cold. Anyway, do you want to eat?"

"Sure," said Gibbs deciding not to join in a discussion of something he knew nothing about. "What you having? Guess we can't dial out for pizza?"

"Thought I'd make a shepherd's pie," said Tony.

"A what?"

"You know, ground beef, mashed potato on top."

"I know what it is," said Gibbs, "I didn't think you cooked."

"Ah," said Tony, "well, the men's group? They have cooking demonstrations sometimes. I've got into cooking a bit more," he said with a touch of defiance.

Gibbs stared at Tony. He had never discussed the men's support group with Tony and had been unsure how he felt about it. Part of him still thought Tony would come to him with problems and the other part believed that problems weren't solved through talking, so the rumours of the men's group had puzzled him. He would have talked to Tony about the group if Tony had raised the subject but, like so many things recently, it seemed Tony didn't want his input. Gibbs decided to ignore the note of challenge,

"OK," he said, "shepherd's pie sounds good. Need a hand?"

Tony half expected that Gibbs would take over the preparation but in fact they found that they worked seamlessly together. They peeled and chopped the vegetables without getting in each other's way. Gibbs chopped onions while Tony grated cheese. Gibbs didn't interfere with the seasoning but trusted Tony's taste buds to deliver. Tony did delegate the mashing of the potatoes to Gibbs but then took over to pipe it on top of the meat. Gibbs scattered the cheese on top and stood back to allow Tony to put it in the oven.

Tony felt a sense of sadness when the work was done. Making their meal had brought back memories of how well they had worked together as a two man team; when they had been more like equals and Gibbs hadn't felt the need to play the 'Boss' card so often. He sighed as he wiped his hands,

"That was good," he said, "bit like old times."

"Old times?" said Gibbs, "when did we cook anything together?"

Tony was about to answer but suddenly realised that perhaps this was a lurking fear of Gibbs': that there were still things he didn't remember, things which could catch him out. Was it possible, Tony wondered, that Gibbs discouraged conversations, social interaction as a way of avoiding such pitfalls?

"We haven't, Boss," said Tony soothingly, "I meant it was like when it was just the two of us on the team. We work well together. Or at least, we did."

Gibbs nodded at that. He might not have recovered all his memories after the explosion but he did remember how well he and the cocky young detective from Baltimore had gelled. He frowned at Tony's suggestion that they no longer worked well together but changed the subject. He nodded towards the fish bowl,

"Is Kate the skinny one or the fat one?" he asked.

Tony choked. Gibbs looked at him in concern.

"Sorry," said Tony, "can you imagine what Kate would have said if you'd suggested she was fat?"

Gibbs grinned in acknowledgement. It was OK for Kate, or Ziva, to call their male co-workers fat but it would have been almost suicidal for the roles to be reversed.

"Kate," said Tony tactfully, "has the longer tail and Ziva has longer fins. And that's as far as I'm going. I'm not even going to consider that one of them is stouter than the other." He then spoiled the effect by adding, "Although Kate does eat more than Ziva."

Gibbs went and stood by the window and looked out.

"Still snowing," he said.

Tony went and joined him by the window.

"Wow," he said, "I can hardly see your truck."

"Won't be going home for a while," said Gibbs.

Tony looked at him in surprise. He might have expected irritation, resignation or impatience in Gibbs' voice but the Boss actually sounded quite mellow about the situation.

"Want to watch a movie?" suggested Tony, "like I said, I've got some of the Duke's masterpieces."

"How about that Japanese guy?" said Gibbs.

"What?" asked Tony.

"You know, Kemosabe."

"I think that's Tonto and the Lone Ranger, Boss," said Tony in a puzzled voice. "I don't know that there's a Japanese version of that."

"You went to some sort of festival of his work," said Gibbs.

"Oh," said Tony, "Kurosawa, Akira Kurosawa. Well, yeah. I've got some of his. You might like 'Seven Samurai'. You sure, Boss?"

"Yeah," said Gibbs, feeling an unaccustomed wish to please Tony.

So Tony put the DVD on and they settled down to watch it. Gibbs wasn't sure he liked the movie but there were compensations in watching Tony mouth the dubbed dialogue. It was probably as well that Gibbs was not as absorbed in the movie as Tony since it meant that he noticed the smell of the shepherd's pie beginning to be overcooked. Tony and Gibbs' excellent teamwork hadn't extended to remembering to set the timer!

They brought back heaped plates to the couch along with bottles of beer and continued watching. Tony, entranced by the movie, barely noticed when Gibbs took his empty plate out of his unresisting hands but he did register when Gibbs returned with a piece of Gloria's snow cake.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Thank Gloria," said Gibbs wryly.

An hour or so later the movie ended and Tony came out of his trance.

"Thanks, Boss," he said.

"What for?" asked Gibbs in surprise.

"It's always better watching a movie with someone," said Tony.

Gibbs shrugged. In the same way that he didn't really understand about the life cycle of colds, he didn't understand DiNozzo's enjoyment of doing things in company especially when that company hadn't said anything throughout the movie.

"You're welcome," he said neutrally.

Tony sneezed. "I'm going to bed," he announced. "You sure you'll be all right on the couch, Boss? What am I saying? Of course you will be. Beds are for wimps. I'll get you some blankets and a pillow. If you want them. Not suggesting you need them. I'm sure you'd manage without them."

"I expect I would," said Gibbs tolerantly, "but that doesn't mean they're not good to have."

Tony brought Gibbs some blankets and a pillow and then brought him a pair of sweats.

"They might be a bit big," said Tony, "but they should be OK. You can borrow something else tomorrow. I've put out a spare toothbrush and stuff in the bathroom."

"Thanks," said Gibbs. He held out the sweats in front of him and considered another conundrum. Tony had always been a little taller than him but, in the early days, had been lean and stringy which had somehow diminished the height difference. Over the years, Tony had filled out. Despite some teasing from the team, and despite some occasional forays into plumpness, Tony was now fit, muscular and rather formidable. A man now, and no longer a boy. Gibbs realised that perhaps he hadn't noticed that Tony had matured, that he had grown up and was someone who could be trusted, relied on.

"Boss?" asked Tony.

Gibbs didn't answer immediately. He looked away from the sweats and looked round Tony's apartment. It was very different from when he had first moved in, when Gibbs had experienced that 'minty fresh smell of urine'. The apartment had, over the years, matured much as Tony had. It was now an elegant, well kept 'confident' place reflecting its owner but somehow this was something that Gibbs had missed as well. Tony had quietly got on with his life and, if Gibbs wasn't careful, might move out of Gibbs' reach.

"Boss?" said Tony again, concerned that Gibbs seemed lost in thought.

Gibbs' instinct was to ignore the question but then he realised that perhaps he did that too often. Perhaps it was time to change.

"I'm fine, Tony," he said, "I was just thinking that you have a nice place here. You've done well."

"Er … thanks, Boss," said Tony a little worriedly.

"Go to bed, Tony. Take some more of those pills Ducky gave you."

"OK, Gibbs," said Tony, still a bit nonplussed with this mellow version of Gibbs.

"Goodnight, Tony," said Gibbs.

"Night, Boss. See you in the morning," Tony walked away still shaking his head in puzzlement.

Just before he settled down for the night, Gibbs switched the TV on to catch the weather forecast. He nodded in satisfaction when he saw that the snow would continue for another day at least and would still be thick on the ground for some time after that. Somehow he thought these snow days might have been heaven sent. Some time seeing the 'real' Tony, reminding himself who Tony really was, might be just what Gibbs needed.

AN: time to leave them holed up in the apartment getting to know each other again. All safely back in their box. Let's hope Gibbs doesn't catch Tony's cold!