Summary: Gibbs finds out how it feels to share his personal space with a restless overgrown kid who never shuts up.

Pressed Together by frostygossamer

Five hours locked in the trunk of a car parked in the middle of nowhere.

The afternoon heat was beginning to build. The morning had been fine. It had been cool when Gibbs had come round to find himself in this confined space, trussed up and unable to move, with nothing to do but wait it out. He had been able to sleep through most of it, which was a godsend considering. Right now, however, the tiny metal box was starting to feel oppressive. The air was thick and it smelled of gas and motor oil. And there was altogether not enough of it for two people. Of course it would have helped if the other guy could keep his big trap shut, even for a minute, instead of wolfing down great gulps of their oxygen so that he could saturate the atmosphere with the sound of his own babbling voice.

Gibbs sighed again and squirmed slightly, attempting to move the weight off his trapped left leg. Unfortunately it wasn't his weight. Who'd have thought that guy could take up so much of the space. Of course he was taking up extra because he wouldn't be still. He needed wiggle-room. He lacked Gibbs' discipline. And he was scared.

"They're gonna find us, right Boss? They'll find us soon. Sure they will," he reassured himself doubtfully.

A momentary silence. "They're gonna find us alive, right Boss? 'Cos you can die, you know, die trapped in the trunk of a car. Dehydration that's what gets you, dehydration. Especially when it's hot."

Tony exhaled shakily and attempted to roll over, struggled against his restraints then gave up defeated.

"It's damn hot in here," he gasped. "Isn't it? Too damn hot... Oh God, we're gonna die!" He started to panic. "We're gonna die in here and they're gonna find us in a couple weeks all dried up. Just a couple of desiccated corpses like props from an Indiana Jones movie."

"Shut up, Dinozzo!" Gibbs interjected, breaking his long silence. "Shut up and lay still, breathe deeply and relax. For God's sake relax. Help is coming. Don't worry about it. Ziva and McGee will find us soon enough. It's gonna be OK."

Gibbs wasn't entirely sure about that, by the by, but there was no way he was gonna spend his last moments on Earth listening to Tony freaking out. Life is too short, possibly literally.

He needed to calm the kid down. He shifted his centre of gravity and leaned his weight against the younger man, squeezing him slightly against the wall of the trunk, preventing him from wriggling further.

"Be still, Tony. That's an order," he whispered soothingly. "It'll be fine."

Tony grew still, as the rise and fall of their chests fell into sync. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. The warmth of the older man's breath on the back of his neck.

The world became silent.

After about another half hour they were startled from a tolerable immobility by the sound of scraping around the lock of the trunk. The end of a crowbar intruded into their cubicle. The hood of the trunk was raised a few inches and Ducky's welcome face peered in.

"You two comfortable in there?" he asked chuckling, and raised the hood all the way.

"This reminds me of the time..." he muttered, shuffling off.

Tony and Gibbs swung their stiffened legs out of the car, stretching their cramped muscles tentatively.

Ziva was standing watching them with her hands on her hips. McGee was in his car with two bad guys handcuffed and despondent in the back.

"Enjoy your day off, Tony?" Ziva laughed.

"It was 'Out of Sight', Tony replied, winking, and Gibbs slapped him on the back of the head.

The End

A/N: Not meant to be totally IC but stops short of Tibbs. ;-)