This is the first chapter of one of those stories from my pre-posting days that I've been dying to clean up and post :) It's angsty, kinda dark at points, set in early-middle season nine, and is taken from Tony's POV. I'd love it if you let me know what you think!

Chapter One: Gibbs' House

It had been one of those weeks. You know, the type where you want to bury yourself in the bottom of not only one, but two bottles of liquor, or a whole twelve pack of beer. The type of week where you just want to crawl into bed and cry even though you're a rapidly approaching middle aged man that has faced multiple terrorists and murders. The type of week that even a bad country song couldn't sum up. I would have traded that week with one where someone's wife met their girlfriend, had their vandalized truck stolen and lost their dog in a heartbeat.

Come to think of it, maybe it was because it wasn't just one week. It was two weeks, back to back, with no break, not a single night home, and it wasn't over. We may all have been back together, but someone still wanted us dead, and with the natural bad luck our team had following us around, we were far from safe.

Ziva had been taken first. Of course it had to be Ziva. When will these guys learn? The woman is ex-Mossad! She's more ass-kicking, crime fighting power than anyone could ever expect in something so small! And I've never been so grateful. So we tracked her down, or at least we were trying to.

You know how with some people, you know better than to take them into certain situations because they are just the perfect "obvious target"? That's McGee to the possible kidnapping situation. I mean, going into this mess, the Boss gave me a look that said, "Whoa, bad idea.", but of course, we had no choice, did we? We knew we were pretty much setting McGee up as bait. Thing is, so did he, and he didn't care. I guess family is family from all sides.

Before we could even think we had lost McGee, we had. They had been waiting, knowing we would come. Gibbs and I were leading our own individual teams. Gibbs put McGee on the last team with Balboa. He gave him some lame excuse as to why, saying that he needed to be the one to monitor some techie doodads, and that by being part of the last team, he could monitor as long as possible or some crap. He knew he couldn't not let McGee in on it, after all; we're talking about Ziva here.

When they got away with both of our agents though, Gibbs went ballistic. We knew we couldn't rely on anyone else. It was he and I, with Abby on the tech front, that brought them home.

Thankfully, McGee had realized what we had. I think deep down inside, all three of us knew that he would be taken and he prepared for it, packing first aid and rations on his person. Thank God the kid was a Boy Scout, because he needed the prep. They had done a pretty bad number on Ziva. It didn't compare to what Gibbs did to them though. Gotta say, I knew better than to ever piss off the Boss, but it's got me thinking he was more than just a sniper... kinda love him for it. That's one dark secret that will be safe with me forever.

Now, we were back together, the unlikely family, and we were staying that way. We had everyone under lockdown in the safest place possible- Gibbs' house. Everyone- Abby, Palmer, Ducky and the four of us. These guys apparently had a plan, and when I say these guys, I mean the ones controlling the puppet-strings of the puppets Gibbs tor- errr, took care of.

One by one we were to be picked off and tortured until finally they had Gibbs, and then we were all going to be killed while he watched before they took care of him. Sick bastards with money made the worst criminals. I never found out why they hated Gibbs so much, though he did say something about his "technique" being a message to them. Guess retaliation is the name of the game, and the fact that Gibbs has all of us here, in his house right now, means that the game is still being played.

Two agents were at each door, one on each wall of the house... hell, we even have a sniper set up on the second floor of the old Madison house across the street that is up for sale. Hope no one was planning on showing it tomorrow. Guess I should've checked on that. Oh well.

We were pretty quiet. This wasn't the way I would have liked for us to be getting together. There was a part of me that hoped that one day, when this was all over, we could do this again under pleasant circumstances. I really hoped so at least. Maybe for Christmas. Nah, everyone always had better things to do besides Gibbs and I. Maybe New Year's or Thanksgiving. I'll have to talk to the Boss about it.

Ducky and Ziva were in the kitchen sitting at the table drinking tea. There was comfort in mutual silence there, as the questions and the unraveling of the past few weeks were still continuing. McGee and Palmer were playing cards in the guest bedroom. McGee's nerves were surprisingly steady despite everything. I always found myself impressed by his ability to bounce back after the harder parts of this job. Then again, I guess I should be more impressed that he didn't find himself in those kinds of situations as often as I'd expect.

Palmer was enough nerves for both of them. Breena had been taken into a safe house in Los Angeles by the NCIS team out there. She was at a conference, and she was told that we were all fine, but she couldn't under any circumstance contact any of us. Palmer had been told the same thing. It didn't sit well with him to say the least. I'm glad the man is growing a pair, but I'm even more glad that Ducky is his boss and not Gibbs.

That left us.

Abby, Gibbs and I were sitting in front of the fire against the coffee table. Abby had her head on Gibbs' shoulder, and I had my arm around the back of Abby, and occasionally Gibbs would look up from the fire to see my expression. Sometimes I met his gaze, sometimes I stared into the flames. I imagined having that fire lit as sending smoke signals to the bastards that were after us; a signal that said, "Bring It."

Gibbs and I were on high alert, neither able to sleep. We knew it was coming. They would inevitably try, and we would inevitably be sticking Ducky, Abby, and Palmer into the hollow spot in the wall. They didn't know that yet, but then again, Gibbs had had that panel in there forever and just told me about it tonight. If I didn't know, it was unlikely anyone else knew.

Abby fell asleep against Gibbs. We still didn't speak. Abby was the type of person that could wake up without making a move, and pretend to sleep with the best of them. Any discussion we could have at the moment wouldn't be fit for her ears. It was okay though. A couple of looks and shakes of the head said it all. After over ten years, the man and I could easily read each other's minds.

What scared me to the core though was that look- the one that said, "I'm sorry." He may not have said the words, but he apologized, and that broken rule once again came into play, and it once again got me in the gut. I just shook my head "no" with the best look of understanding I could conjure. This wasn't his fault. He was doing everything in his power to protect us. He didn't need to apologize, it was just the opposite. We finally broke eye contact with each other and turned back to the fire.

Ducky came in and sat down in the armchair, and ZIva came in to lay on the couch. She was battered pretty badly. Bruises and cuts and stitches covered her body. I knew it was senseless to ask her if she would accept being put in the wall too. She would fight until she died. They both fell asleep pretty quickly behind us.

I tapped Gibbs on the shoulder and nodded for him to reach for the blanket off the back of the chair to wrap around Abby. He moved her so she leaned on my shoulder instead and got the blanket. Abby stirred for a second and then as she was covered over, snuggled against me. I put my arm around her and kissing the top of her head, held her tightly. Gibbs tried to give us a half smile, and stood up. He stretched, then walking over my legs, put his hand on my head and ruffled my hair. It was such a tender, un-Gibbs thing to do that I couldn't help but smile. Any affection from the man, even in a moment like this was welcome.

A few minutes later I smelled fresh coffee brewing. I heard the soft thunk of two mugs being sat on the counter, and then heard a spoon and three clinks. I smiled to myself again. Gibbs was putting sugar in one of the mugs for me. Then the fridge opened and light cascaded into the room for a few seconds as he added creamer, which I knew for a fact he only kept in the house for my coffee and Ducky's tea. I made sure to check the expiration date every time I came over, just to be sure.

Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, Gibbs was standing next to me, handing me a mug which I gladly took with my free hand. He sat next to me this time instead of on the other side of Abby. He whispered closely in my ear, which sent shivers through my entire body, and I prayed double time he didn't catch on to.

"The guard changes in an hour and a half. Ready?"

I closed my eyes a moment and swallowed deeply, then turned to look back into his own worried eyes with a slight nod. It was during guard change that we had to be the most careful. Half of the guards would be replaced at 0100. At 0500, the other half would be exchanged out. There would be another rotation at 0900 and every four hours half of them would be replaced back and forth while Balboa's team, with the help of Fornell's Feebs would be working to track down the SOBs that were hell bent on crushing us.

Gibbs opened my laptop and logged into his email. For a man who tried to pretend to be so anti-technology, when no one was paying attention, could maneuver his way around a computer. I've never said anything to him about it. I know he hates it, and I know he only uses one when he really has to. Yet another one of his secrets that were safe with me. I looked over my shoulder at him to find that he was writing to Fornell.

It surprised me once to think that Gibbs trusted Fornell more than Balboa. Then I learned about their mutual ex-wife, and it all kinda made sense. Now, I know a lot more and it makes perfect sense. Trust was rare. Neither of the two could ever really stab each other in the back. They are too blunt and honest with one another. They may not have quite the connection we do, but it's still something special.

I cleared my throat just a hair, and he looked at me. I nodded to the email. He nodded back and I began to read in earnest. He was telling him what he knew he couldn't say officially, and even then, it was the kind of read between the lines speak that only Gibbs' closer friends could understand. Luckily, I was one of those people.

Basically, Gibbs had been tasked with getting info out of someone about stolen components for biological weaponization in Dessert Storm. He was only officially supposed to disrupt the chain of delivery, but people were playing for both teams and a mole had to be flushed out.

It was.

That was the unofficial part, where Gibbs' darker "expertise" came in handy. I definitely had some questions for him, and I knew that if I ever expected answers, I would have to wait a long time for them, so I sat silently to bide my time.

He looked up at me before he sent the email to see if I had read it all, and gotten what he wasn't saying. I met his eyes and nodded firmly. We were in for it. The people they would send to try to get past the guards would only be the henchmen. The real problem was still out there somewhere, and one day, we would have to take the fight to them. I just hope I got a good night's sleep before that happened.

Forty-five minutes later, the first change of the guard would happen. Gibbs brought me the throw pillows that Ziva had ditched next to the couch, and we gently laid Abby down on them in front of the fire. He motioned for me to follow him upstairs and into his room. It was another one of those situations that I wished were happening under different circumstances.

Despite the seclusion he still whispered, although thankfully, he now stood in front of me and not close to my ear. "In half an hour, I'm going to wake Tim up. I want you in the living room, I'll be in the kitchen, and Tim will be watching from the upstairs window. I'm going to put Abby in here, and try to get Ziva to crash with her. Ducky and Palmer go in the guest room. We need to move them without changing any lighting and with as little noise as possible. I'll show Tim the panel in the bathroom wall and pray that we don't need to use it." I nodded and saw how he saw this playing out. Nothing about this sounded good. I needed to know more. I wanted to know why he thought that enough people would be sent on the task to get past the almost dozen people that we had covering the house.

"What do I need to know Gibbs?" I asked as firmly as I could with a whisper, while keeping stern eye contact. He knew exactly what I was saying and for just a second, I could see the guilt back in his eyes.

"Dangerous people, even for us, with deep enough pockets that anything is possible." That said a lot. It said bribes could be made, heavy weapons could be purchased, the amount of people or the skill of people could both be high and we could expect the unexpected. We had no idea what we were up against and who they had on their payroll. With that thought, my brows went up and looked at the door.

I wanted to just run. Just take my entire team, and run. That's what I did best when the worst came knocking. I used to run away from the uncomfortable feeling I had in my gut that said where I was in life was not where I was meant to be. These people had shown me that it wasn't a where, it was a with whom, that made my life fulfilling. Now that the chance was so imminent that I could be losing one or all of them, I wanted to move us into an underground bunker somewhere, or buy them all Rasta wigs and go hide in the slums of Jamaica.

I wanted this over. My nerves were shot. I had caught myself in the mirror for a minute earlier in the head, and I didn't recognize myself. The dark circles under my eyes were like nothing I had ever gotten partying, or even from normal cases. I looked like I had aged years these past two weeks. I needed a haircut too. I was planning on getting one the weekend before Ziva was taken, so my appointment had to be cancelled. Then I didn't make it to my next one. I was starting to look shaggy in a bad way. At least I was clean finally.

I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself involuntarily to fight back a sudden twinge in my gut. I looked back at Gibbs to see how he was doing with it all, and found him staring at me with genuine worry and concern. It alarmed me.

"You okay Tony?" he whispered. I tried to smile and failed.

"Yeah. I just need more coffee." I turned to walk away and felt a hand on my arm. I turned back to him, surprised.

"Tony? You know we're going to be okay, right?" I just shook my head no. We weren't. I knew it. I felt it. He did too. This was going to keep us on edge for months, even if we all managed to live through this. Someone would lose their life between now and the end. It might not be one of our team, but at least one of the agents surrounding the house would go down in the attempt to get at us. I had no fairytale dream that we would end up unscathed by this. I especially believed somewhere deep inside that it was very likely that either Gibbs or I would be seriously harmed, if not killed, if not both of us protecting our family.

He saw my gears turning in my head, and knew that I was right. "Gibbs, nothing about this is okay." His eyes closed suddenly, his face contorted with guilt. He felt responsible. I didn't want him to feel that way. "Nor is it your fault, Jethro." I added softly. His eyes stayed closed, and he shook his head. All of his features fell, and for that short spell, Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked vulnerable.

I don't know where in the hell I plucked the balls from, but I stepped forward and put my arms around him. I was expecting him to kill me right then and there, but instead he embraced me back. It wasn't one of those pat on the back, half man hugs. It was a real, arms wrapped around each other for dear life, kind of hold. I rested my chin on his shoulder and pulled him tight.

I wouldn't call it romantic, but it was intimate. How often did Gibbs let anyone close? Hell, how often did I let anyone that close? The gravity of the situation really hit home then, but somehow, I suddenly felt hopeful. I knew that if anyone could pull a group of people through this, it would be he and I, together. We weren't doing this individually. We would keep our team as safe as possible.

A couple of long minutes went by and we finally disengaged ourselves. There was no awkward pause afterwards or any discussion. All he said was, "Let's get some more coffee in us," and with a nod we headed for the door. It was acknowledgement in and of itself that we embraced; anything beyond that was just words.

We headed quietly down the steps and into the kitchen. Gibbs poured the rest of the pot into our mugs, and put a fresh pot on. Gibbs drank his straight down, while I put in enough cream to cool mine and do the same. Five minutes after leaving the bedroom, we were waking people up with whispers and room assignments. Abby looked between us with wild eyed concern. "Why?" she asked frantic.

"Just so you guys can get some real sleep somewhere safe." Gibbs said gently.

"Abs, if anything were to start happening down here, you guys would have enough time to wake up a little if you were upstairs and had to think fast. You'll have Tim and Ziva with you up there. Gibbs and I are going to crash down here. Just strategy, that's all. Nothing is happening." I said, trying to calm her. She followed my thought process and nodded. Gibbs gave me a smile over her head. I tried to smile a little, but not too much. Faking it would give away our concern. She let Ziva lead her and Ducky was behind them.

Gibbs looked from the clock, to the doors, and then right into my eyes. I was going to be left alone for a minute while he ran things by with Tim and Ziva upstairs. I nodded and pulled my gun from my back waistband, moving to stand in the kitchen doorway where I could view all exits and windows. Gibbs took off for the second floor, taking two steps at a time. He was back in only two minutes. The plan was simple, and McGee was alert enough to be able to handle it.

I put a kitchen chair in the living room against the wall where I would have the best vantage point of anyone trying to get in from the basement, front door or garage. Gibbs had a similar view, only from the kitchen door, basement and garage. We looked at each other from time to time, companionable silence between us. I felt charged, like the air before a big summer storm. The guard was changing as we sat there. We could hear the agents shuffling outside and voices updating one another over walkies. Gibbs phone rang and he answered it, never taking his eyes off of the kitchen door. I stared straight at the front door, hand on my gun, ready to raise it like the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Gibbs." he said shortly. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

His phone shut and my mouth opened. "What's the word, Boss?" I said, barely a question to my tone.

"Tarim's dead. Died a month ago. It's his son, Abdullah Tarim that is leading this game. He's the brother." He didn't have to tell me the brother of whom. I pretty much gotten that it's the brother of the man that Gibbs had... taken care of… back in the day. One day I would have to ask him how he knew exactly who it was. What one thing he had done that set him apart. Today wasn't the day. I didn't want to know what was in store for me if I was caught. I had a feeling that it would be better for me to put my gun in my mouth if I was given the chance, rather than have any of that happen to me.

"Brother is a little crazy. I take it Daddy wasn't so... obvious… with his evil plots?" I asked with bitter sarcasm, but didn't break eye contact with the front of the house I was scanning.

"Mmmhm." Gibbs said.

"Well, in a way, that's good right? Because that means his passion is driving this, which will make it more likely he'll slip up." I tried to sound hopeful and confident, but there was too much question in there.

"He's had twenty some odd years of military training to perfect his passion, Tony. I wouldn't count on that for a second. Don't think it." Gibbs said it sadly and clipped. I felt the knot tighten a little more in my stomach, and my focus retrained threefold on the windows and doors of the house. I almost wished that something would happen so that I could stop feeling so on edge. A nice adrenaline burst would be refreshing right about now.

"You know, we will probably be staying up all night tonight for nothing. Making us squirm is this guy's specialty." I said more to myself than to Gibbs. I heard his grunt though and grunted back. "Yeah... after that I would probably move on us too." I said again more to myself, thinking about Gibbs' "message".

We sat there through the next couple of hours, Gibbs occasionally bringing me fresh cups of coffee since he was on kitchen watch. I was not only exhausted, but wired. I started rambling about favorite movies. I was in the middle of a thorough retelling of the best scenes from Taken when he brought me another cup of coffee. "Ya know Boss, I might need to go to decaf. My rambling is probably going to get me killed by you before Tarim Jr. has a chance." I made myself smile at the man and noted that he smiled back.

"Tony, I cut you some slack one time, and you manage to draw attention to yourself!" he shook his head at me. I could see the truth though, and called him on it.

"You mean you're letting me ramble so you don't drive yourself crazy thinking." I said seriously, the smile gone, but my face as open as I could make it. He smirked and turned back to his chair. I don't know when it had happened, but I could read him like a book. I looked back at the front door, drinking the coffee he had made perfectly for me again. I couldn't remember when he had learned to do that, either, but it was nice.

I started thinking about all of the things we just knew about each other after all this time. Coffee, what each other was thinking, which direction we ran when the shots started ringing out, where the secret hide outs were, what not to say, what to say, when to say or not to say it. There were those other things though, that made me wonder if it could ever be more that what it was.

He knew just what kinds of clothes I wore when I needed comforting or when I felt even the slightest under the weather. It wasn't anything specific. I just dialed down a little bit, but before I could even put my bag down at work he was asking me if I felt okay. I would always ask why, and he would say I looked different. I hadn't looked super casual, just not as razor sharp as usual.

And there were those nights I ended up in the office at one in the morning because I was wide awake and decided to do paperwork. Half of the time, he would show up on the same nights, and bring an extra cup of coffee with him for me. Don't know how he knew. I asked once and he said I was too tense earlier to get any real work done. I didn't realize it had shown, but I was glad for the company, even if silent.

Those kinds of nights always earned me the most genuine time with him at work. We were closer to equals then. He could openly respect me without appearing to have favorites, and he did.

Then there was the saltwater taffy. I found it in my desk drawer every year on the anniversary of the day we met in Baltimore. I don't know how he knew about the taffy, but for ten years now, on March 30th, there it was. It was kind of sweet, but we never really acknowledged it.

Once it hit me the first year what day it was, I brought everyone in our corner of the bullpen coffee after lunch. Couldn't do it for just him back then, but I buy our team coffee every year at lunch, and if we're on a case, I make sure that somehow, Gibbs gets a fresh cup. One year, I don't have any idea how he managed it, but the taffy was in my backpack at the end of the day. I had remembered the date earlier in the day and thought he had forgotten because of the case. I even made sure we all had our coffee. When I saw the taffy, I lit up. I don't know if he knew I saw him smile out of the corner of his eye, but he did.

There's a big difference though between coffee on our weird little anniversary and coffee tonight. I allowed myself the memories. It might be the last time I get to have them after all. I felt eyes on me and for a brief second tensed hard, then I realized it was Gibbs. I looked back with a question. He pointed to his watch. It was just a few minutes before 0500. I nodded and we began listening to all of the shuffling outside. There were agents replacing agents and again, Gibbs phone rang.

"Gibbs." There was a minute or two where the other side talked. Gibbs stood up, leaving his phone open on the counter, and moved into the kitchen further. I stood up and arranged my position to be able to take in both rooms.

Gibbs was moving towards the back porch when a shot was fired somewhere beyond the door in the back yard. Four more shots came from multiple directions. I could hear the shuffling upstairs as the wall began being filled with rushing feet, and while McGee and Ziva's voices were heard, I couldn't make out what was being said. I stood my position, watching for where I would be needed most. Gibbs moved to the back door, but didn't open it. I was against the wall waiting to see which door would open.

The front window broke, and a smoke can filled the room. My hanky was out of my pocket and over my mouth as fast as I could. I moved towards the bottom of the steps, watching as the front door opened. I heard noise at the back door as well, and then the next minute was a blur.

Strangers were in Gibbs' house, and I was shooting. There was also shooting in the kitchen and another shot rang out from across the street, killing the man that was trying to enter the front door, making him fall forward into the house. I had put three bullets in the man that entered first through the smoke. A split second later, later Ziva was at the top of the stairs, weapon drawn, moving slowly down.

Gibbs came out of the kitchen and into the living room. Three agents entered behind him. Two more entered through the front door. Ziva and my weapons were trained on the agents until Gibbs gave us the okay to lower them. They were all agents we knew enough to trust. (Not that I could really ever trust anyone outside of our team after my history, but they were trustworthy enough for now.)

I looked at Gibbs and he looked at me. The news wasn't good. "Who did we lose Gibbs?" I asked.

"Samuels and McKinsley."

I turned around and slammed my hand into his wall, putting a slight dent there. He wouldn't be mad. I'm sure he felt like doing the same. "Damn it!" I had just talked to McKinsley the other night at the bar. He was a decent guy. No kids, but a wife he adored. And Samuels, though a bit of a skeeze was dedicated to the job. I felt the rage bubbling over inside, and was so on edge that I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it back for long.

Ziva had her head still though despite everything. "How many came?" she asked. One of the agents next to Gibbs looked up at her. He looked to be a little in shock himself. "Eight. There were eight."

They had sent eight people after what they thought would be eight people. Thank God Breena was in Cali. Tim came to the top of the stairs. "Hey Boss, is the coast clear?"

Ziva and I looked back to Gibbs. "Yeah, Tim. Get everyone down here."

It took a bit, but a very shaken up Abby, a very nervous Palmer and Ducky, made their way down the steps. Tim followed them. Ziva, looking exhausted, was already on the couch. Abby threw her arms around me at the bottom of the steps, and I held her tightly. "Oh, God Tony!"

"It's going to be okay, Abby. It's going to be okay." She was shaking and I felt my heart break.

"Did we lose anyone?" she asked.

"Yeah Abs. Samuels and McKinsley." I held her tighter. I felt the sob as she broke and began rubbing her back.

"But we just saw Justin at the pub! He can't be gone!" she said between tears. Gibbs had moved over to her and began patting her head and rubbing her back. Suddenly it was like, what the hell, and he went to wrap her in a hug from behind, which meant he ended up hugging me too, making an Abby sandwich. I have to tell you, it felt good to be back in that close proximity to him. I felt my nerves settle a little, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to snuggle up close to him and cry, just let it all out, be held like that and find some peace.

Another agent's phone rang and then another. They all started answering phones and placing calls after rapid conversations. Things were suddenly buzzing. "What's going on?" I heard one say to another. "Fornell's team has their recon van surrounded. They suspect two men inside based on thermal satellite scans." A couple of the agents were dispatched to move to that scene, and the rest re-established posts around the house.

I couldn't help but think of Kate for a moment. The way she set up a protection detail was matched with authority to Gibbs'. She was strict and specific. That's what the agents sounded like. I missed her suddenly with such an ache that I leaned into the hug even more and squeezed my eyes shut. I knew I was going to unravel eventually, but I couldn't let right now be the time. I finally opened my eyes and looked at Gibbs, whose eyes were also closed as he lay his head on top of Abby's.

We were both exhausted. We needed some time to regroup. I took a deep breath. "Boss? I think we should get out of town for a while." I said loud enough for everyone to hear. Gibbs looked at me with a strange look.

"I mean together. We should all get out of town together. Breathe for a couple of days. Sleep. Regroup. Then finish this. We can't keep going like this here." Abby pulled out of our embrace and I know Gibbs looked as sad as I did when we lost contact with each other. It took a lot not to think about it though. More important things had to be dealt with first.

"No offense, but I think I need some time without all of you." McGee spoke up. "Maybe we should split up for a couple of days."

"No way Timmy!" Abby said. "I don't want..." her voice cracked and she fell back against me again.

McGee looked at her with sad eyes. "We don't have to all separate Abs. Maybe just split into two groups. Make it harder to track us."

I looked at Gibbs and realized that he hadn't stopped staring at me. "Did you have a plan, DiNozzo?" he asked, sounding suddenly as exhausted as he looked.

"I dream of Jamaica, but I doubt that's going to happen anytime soon. Maybe just a cabin some place close, but far enough out to be hidden."

"Hey, there's that cluster of cabins at the Twin Lakes park in Virginia. There's like 4 small cabins on almost a street in the middle of the park. We could rent them all out, and have all the privacy we need. Just a few days to recoup, and then be back here. It's probably a four hour drive tops." McGee said enthusiastically. Gibbs looked at Abby whose mascara was all over the place. He looked across the room at his two black and blue agents who were all but rumpled on the couch and Ducky whose hand was resting on Palmers back as the man shook with his head between his knees.

"Palmer?" he asked. Jimmy looked up. "Get my phone off the counter. Speed dial 9. Tell the director I am sending you to LA." The younger man looked at him in shock, and when it hit him what was being said, he jumped to his feet and ran to the kitchen.

"Gibbs? Do you think that is wise?" Ziva asked, now on the edge of the couch.

"If you would like to go with him, you may." He looked around the room. "You can either go sit in a safe house in LA under our team there, or you can go with us to this Twin Lake place. Whatever makes any of you most comfortable."

Ziva thought about it. "I think I will go with Palmer to California. That way we know he is safe, and because the idea of a nice long flight, where I can be pretty sure there are no weapons on board, sounds like a great opportunity to sleep."

Ducky sat up at that idea. "Perhaps I'll join you."

"I'm going to stay close to home." I said. I didn't like the idea of Ziva going off by herself, but I liked the idea of Ducky and Palmer going across the country without an agent even less. I looked at Tim who nodded that he was staying, too. Gibbs and I both looked down at Abby.

"I'll go to Virginia with you guys." Gibbs nodded and we all broke to make arrangements.

Palmer handed Gibbs his cell so he could take over the conversation with Vance. I headed upstairs to put Abby to work packing a bag for Gibbs, hoping to get her mind off things. We all had brought bags with us for the stay at Gibbs house, and I figured what I had packed should be enough to get me through a couple of days at the cabin. I carried Gibbs' bag down the steps, Abby descending in front of me. I left it by the door as Abby joined Tim on the couch, immediately being wrapped in an embrace.

Leaving them alone, I walked through the kitchen to the dining room. I watched Gibbs as he hung up the phone call he was on, and rubbed his hands down his face. He turned to find me standing there and froze. I felt the weight of the stare and tried to convey as much reassurance as possible with my own. "Let's get out of here, Gibbs." I said quietly. He nodded and moved to walk past me, squeezing my shoulder as he went by. I stood there, watching him head for the living room, wondering what I could do to help him through this.