The not-so-observant Marine

A/N: This will only have two chapters (I am yet to write the next one) as I understand this is a really, really overused plot! So yeah, don't take it too seriously, especially as I'm new to the fandom (in writing it, at least) so the characterizations may be a bit wonky. This is why I've set it pre-series, mostly so I can't make too many mistakes. Therefore, Blackadder still works with Tony and Gibbs.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Gibbs would hug Tony a lot more often.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs considered himself a rather observant man. Years in combat as a marine, face to face with death, had taught him that the key to survival was the careful observation of ones surroundings.

Danger always made itself known, and the most dangerous threats were always the subtlest.

So Gibbs had an eye for subtly.

Yet somehow he missed the fact that his senior agent was one sick individual, running a fever of 102, all morning. Gibbs had nearly smacked himself upside the head, that is, once he'd picked the crumpled, unconscious form of DiNozzo up off the floor.

The day started off well, quiet, boring, dull, but a stack of cold cases would do that for you. Gibbs was of course grateful that there was no dead marine to investigate and no thriving murderer to catch. They'd just put one serial killer, one who had killed five marines in five states over five years, away for life.

The bastard had enjoyed his yearly, ritual killing.

Gibbs was also sure he'd enjoy his very, very long stay in prison.

DiNozzo was only five minutes late that morning, but he had brought Gibbs coffee from his favorite shop which had made up entirely from his less than prompt timing. Gibbs had given DiNozzo his share of the files, before passing the rest out wordlessly to Blackadder, who glared with her usual futile hostility.

The three agents had worked in companionably silence for over three hours, all three exhausted (one more so than the others) and all three longing for the weekend.

Gibbs wanted his boat.

Blackadder wanted a social life.

DiNozzo wanted a hole he could bury himself in until his head stopped throbbing.

When the clock hit ten, Gibbs decided it was time for another coffee (he couldn't let his caffeine levels drop too low, could he?) so he stood up, knees creaking, and stretched his neck from side to side. God, how he hated sitting at a desk.

He glanced over at Vivian, who continued to read and scribble down some notes on one of the case files, and then at Tony.

Tony had his head in one hand, his fingers seemingly shading his eyes from the harsh office lights above. His other hand tapped restlessly at his desk.

He appeared to be working, if somewhat slowly.

Gibbs thought the kid could do with a coffee, or that disgusting hazel thing he usually drank.

"DiNozzo!"

The newest recruit to the team winced when his head snapped up at his Boss' clipped bark, then straightened his features when he saw Gibbs moving towards the elevator.

Gibbs didn't notice the dark moons beneath dull green eyes, or the pink flush to sunken cheeks.

"Yes, Boss?"

Gibbs did notice the slightly, almost non-existent, shake to his agent's voice, however.

"With me. Time for a coffee break."

Blackadder looked up then, a frown knitted between her eyebrows.

"What about me?" She asked, eyes narrowed. "He was late, Boss."

Gibbs didn't like the way Blackadder seemed to spit, almost hiss in contempt, when she referred to Tony. The former marine knew that Blackadder wasn't thrilled when he recruited the homicide detective but Gibbs, quite frankly, couldn't care less about what she wanted.

The Italian was special, even if Vivian couldn't see it.

However, Tony didn't appear to notice her hostility and instead, he began to move files around into some kind of organized mess before glancing once more at Gibbs.

"Right now, Gibbs?" He queried, something resembling confusion on his young face.

"Yes, DiNozzo, now. Unless you'd like to me to stand here for a few minutes until you've brushed your hair, or powdered your nose?" Gibbs found that sarcasm, when it came to Tony, centered around affection more than anything else.

Tony should have smiled warmly, not offended, but enjoying the light banter.

But DiNozzo seemed to gulp, blink, then blink again, before dragging himself to his feet.

He didn't remain standing for very long.

Gibbs darted towards his agent the second he saw DiNozzo stagger, his shaky hands clutching nimbly at the edge of his desk as he eyes seemed to roll backwards and his athletic body began its descent towards the floor.

The former marine, on instinct, managed the catch the young man just before he slammed into the carpet and his heart seemed to shudder at the way DiNozzo's limp form lolled in his grip.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs growled, out of concern, rather than anger, "DiNozzo! Wake up!"

Jethro had pulled the man up against his chest, Tony's head falling into the crook of his neck and that's when he noticed the fiery heat radiating from the agents skin.

Pale skin, he then noted.

"Goddamit, Tony, open your eyes!"