The T.A.D.

By Mamapranayama



****************
Prologue

Falling sure wasn't the hard part.

But the sudden stop at the bottom was a different story.

Looking up at the sky, his lungs still reeling from having all of the air forcibly stolen from them, he realized it was a really beautiful day, something he hadn't been paying much attention to before. The spring sun was shining warm rays down upon him and there wasn't a cloud to be seen in any direction. All he could see was blue. Even the light, sweet scent of blooming cherry blossoms floated on the breeze and grazed his cheeks tantalizingly.

But Tony didn't give a damn about that right at the moment.

He couldn't breathe.

“Tony!” Ziva's far-off voice called out from above, but he couldn't see her. To do so would have meant moving his body and lifting his head, which wasn't going to happen any time soon or ever again, he thought grimly.

Just as he thought he was going to suffocate before his lungs remembered how to function again, he took a deep breath in. For his effort, he was immediately rewarded with a sharp pain lancing across his chest and even though he could breath again, he wasn't sure he wanted to anymore.

Maybe suffocating would have been a more pleasant way to go, he mused.

It wasn't just his chest now that screamed in agony, but now that the initial shock of falling was wearing off, his whole body registered flames of torment with the majority of pain radiating from his right thigh. Drawn to the source of the injury, a shaky hand felt for his leg and encountered a sticky moistness that somewhere in his dazed mind registered as blood.

Lifting his hand to his face, he confirmed that it was indeed blood and regretted the decision to look at his fingers.

Flopping his hand back down, he noted with a detached sense of reality that the bright sky was morphing from a brilliant shade of blue to a splotchy gray with darkness rolling in quickly from the corners of his eyes, but he wasn't entirely certain that it was actually clouds causing the world to grown dimmer.

It was him that was fading.

As sky above paled, it became blocked out completely as a face came into what was left of his field of vision.

“Hold on, Tony. Stay with us.” It was Gibbs speaking and touching his shoulder, but he could barely hear him. He seemed so far away, but he was right in front of him. And was that concern, maybe even a hint of fear on the former Marine's normally stoic face?

This couldn't be good.

He had to be dying for that to happen.

“Sure would like to boss.” Tony was certain he said or at least that was what he was thinking he should say as the scene faded to black.


Chapter 1


Ziva was still unsure what had happened.

One moment she and Tony were clearing Lt. Anderson McGraw's apartment after he turned up missing and one of his colleagues was found murdered and the next, all hell had broken loose.

While Gibbs and McGee had gone off to question neighbors to see if they had seen the missing lieutenant, Tony and Ziva went to his apartment hoping just to find some clues to the Lieutenant's whereabouts.

“......You should have come, they only have the 'Bond-a-thon' every other year at the theatre downtown, last night was 'Doctor No', one of my favorites. It's the first Bond film with Sean Connery and the first time he says: 'Bond, James Bond'” Tony attempted his best Sean Connery impression and Ziva rolled her eyes.

“If Sean Connery could hear your impression of him, he would kick your ass from here to the end of this hall.”

“You're just jealous you can't get the Scottish brogue right. You gotta lower you voice a little like this” Tony demonstrated “and roll the 'r's off the tongue, like- oof!” Ziva elbowed him in the solar-plexis.

“Uncalled for-” he complained with a wheeze.

“So are your movie quotes and endless impersonations.” She quipped with a satisfied grin.

“Touche” He came back as they approached the apartment door. Ziva knocked twice and announced that they were federal agents with a warrant, but there was no answer.

Tony tried the door, but it was locked.

“I'll get the super with a key-”

Too late. Ziva already had the door open with her pick.

“You gotta show me how you do that so fast.”

“Secret Mossad technique. If I showed you, I would have to kill you.”
“Right.” He snorted sarcastically, but one deadly serious look from Ziva had him shutting up.

“Assassin's first.” He gestured for her to enter as they pulled their weapons out and walked into the apartment.

Not expecting anyone to be at home, but still erring on the side of caution Tony took off to the right after they cleared the living room, heading down the hallway towards the bedrooms while Ziva headed for the kitchen area.

Ziva called “Clear” entering the kitchen, finding no one. Expecting an echo of 'Clear' coming from across the apartment from Tony, she was surprised when she didn't hear anything.

“Tony?” She called out as she headed in the direction he had gone to.

Hearing scraping and grunting noises, Ziva realized rather belatedly that the were not the only ones in the apartment and whoever it was was now engaged in a full-on brawl with Tony. Running down the hall with her weapon drawn, she entered the furthest bedroom to find Tony and a rather large and muscular young man grappling with each other across the room. Having been caught by surprise, Tony had already lost his weapon as he was pushed against a wall. He fought back valiantly against the larger man, landing several punches against him, but it only served to enrage Tony's opponent further and fuel his already impressive strength with adrenaline.

“Stop!” Ziva shouted to Tony's assailant, “I will shoot!” but the man paid no attention to her and before she could reach the two, he pushed Tony out through the open sliding glass door and to the balcony floor on the other side.

Rather than try to subdue the man, since he was twice her size and it would take too long to get him off of Tony, she decided to employ her eagle-eye, sharp-shooter skills instead. Taking aim quickly, she fired off a round into the man's leg once Tony had managed to put a little space between the two of them. Normally, such a shot had stopping power, but rather than go down, he howled insanely and acted more like he just been stung by a annoying insect rather than being hit by a 9 mm slug. That's when he turned on Ziva.

Maintaining her weapon at his center mass, she ordered him to stop once more, but he continued his advance towards her. The pad of her finger slid over the cool metal of the trigger as she prepared to fire once again when Tony came up from the concrete of the balcony floor in one fluid motion and rammed himself full-force into the massive brute's chest.

He did little to stop the man's pursuit of Ziva, and only served to frustrate Ziva as she lost the shot, but Tony fought desperately to keep him away from his partner. Finally distracted enough by the smaller man's attack to forget about going after Ziva, he turned his full attention on dispatching Tony.

In the space of a heartbeat, things happened faster than it took for Ziva's brain to process what was happening. Tony had taken to nearly jumping on the man's back in order to bring him down, but the man backed up and pushed Tony against the wrought iron railing of the balcony.

Like watching a movie in slow motion, Ziva watched in shock and horror as the man turned in a flash with a growl and grabbed Tony's legs, flipping him up and over the railing. One second Tony was there and the net he was over the edge and gone.

“No!” Ziva yelled. On instinct, rather than in rational thinking, she fired twice, double tapping the large man in the heart, finally bringing him down to his knees before he fell forward onto his face. She didn't even bother to check if he was dead, she knew he was.

Running to the railing of the balcony, Ziva looked over the edge to the lawn three stories below.

“Tony!” She yelled. Tony lay on his back, he was still and Ziva thought the worst. She breathed a sigh of relief however, when he moved his hand, but the spot of blood beginning to spread across his pants leg had her in distress and she quickly fled the balcony and apartment, flying down the stairs back to the ground floor.

By the time she made it to the bottom and out the door, she saw Gibbs crouched beside Tony and barking orders to McGee to call for an ambulance. She dashed to Tony's side and joined Gibbs who was checking Tony's pulse.

“He's alive.” Gibbs announced. Tony was struggling to breathe even in his unconscious state. “McGee!” Gibbs called back behind him while the youngest agent was still on the phone with emergency services.

“Ambulance is on its way, Boss” He called back.

“First aid kit, McGee. Now!” Gibbs barked back and Tim ran to the Charger, opening the trunk and grabbing the first-aid kit stowed in there then ran back to Gibbs and Ziva.

Gibbs flung open the kit and ripped open a field dressing, handing it to Ziva.

“Put it on his leg and press, we got to stop that bleeding.” He ordered her. Ziva pressed the thick gauze pad against the wound in Tony's thigh. The feel of bone protruding through the skin made her slightly nauseated, but she held it back, now was not the time for her to lose her lunch.

Tony groaned and opened his eyes a slit.

“You with us?” Gibbs asked, but Tony didn't respond, only tried to roll his head from side to side, his lips drawn in a grimace, his pale face was devoid of all color as tears slipped freely from the corners of his eyes. Gibbs held both sides of Tony's head in an effort to keep him from moving and causing further injury.

“Hold still, Tony” Gibbs demanded of his injured agent and Tony stopped, even in his confused and pain-filled mind, he followed his boss' orders. Ziva couldn't recall seeing Tony so vulnerable before and she had to admit to herself that it frightened her a bit. She had seen combat and had nearly been blown-up before, but Tony being so un-Tony like was one of the scariest things she had ever seen.

“Hurts” He managed to grate out before he passed into oblivion once again.

“I'm sure it does.” Gibbs patted his shoulder. In the distance, Ziva heard the blessed sounds of ambulance wails approaching and she bowed her head in relief.

“McGee.” Gibbs turned to Tim, who seemed in a daze and at a loss as to what to do. “McGee!” Gibbs addressed him again with smack to the back of the head, snapping him out of his funk. “Go flag down the ambulance.”

“On it, boss.” McGee ran off and moments later they were surrounded by EMT's and Ziva was relieved of her duty to Tony's leg. Pushed to the side, she watched as they worked until she felt a pull on her arm. She turned and Gibbs practically dragged her to the corner of the yard, his face an unreadable mask, but she knew he was angry, she could feel it radiating off of him.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Tony and I entered the apartment when no one answered. Tony was caught by surprise.... He fought with a man I can only assume was Lt.McGraw, but he was very large and Tony was unable to get the upper hand....I tried to subdue him with a shot to the leg, but he would not stop. He came after me...Tony tried to stop him, but the other man was much stronger and.... pushed Tony over the edge.” Hearing the words tumble out of her mouth as she tried to explain what happened only seemed to add to the improbability of the situation. It was surreal, yet all too real at the same time. “After that, I shot the man.... He is dead.”

Gibbs' eyes penetrated into hers and she was unable to avoid their cool blue fire as he took in her version of events. He nodded when she explained that she had killed their assailant. If anyone could understand what it was like to kill another human being in the heat of the moment, it was Gibbs. Unsurprisingly, she felt no remorse for killing him, she knew there would have been no other way to stop him, but she still felt the effects if it reverberate through her system. He fingers still trembled from the adrenaline rush and she had to squeeze her fists tight to reign them in and bring herself back under control.

“Call Ducky and get him down here. You and McGee process the scene.” Gibbs looked behind him as the paramedics placed Tony onto a stretcher. “I want to know who that guy was and what made him attack Tony.”

“Yes, Gibbs.” She nodded distractedly.

“I'm going with Tony.” He informed her as he turned away and headed for the ambulance where Tony was being loaded. “Tell Ducky I'll call him.” He told Ziva just before the doors to the ambulance closed and they sped off.

Ziva could only watch as they departed and pray that Tony would be alright. Her partner may be a pain in the ass on his good days, but she had to admit that she couldn't imagine life without him around.

She revolved around when she felt, rather than saw McGee standing behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she accepted it, giving his hand a light pat. They both knew there was nothing else they could do from here on out except for their jobs and without a word they both headed back into the building to do just that.

TBC.....

Chapter 2

Muted sunlight streaming though the closed curtains was enough to bring Tony away from his dreams and back into reality, but in all truthfulness, he really would have liked to stay in that dream-like state a little longer.

It wasn't so much the light that woke him, it was actually quite dim in the room, but the pain was enough to drive him from his state of bliss and he groaned, opening his eyes a crack.

His mind had figured it out already that he was in a hospital. Obviously he had been injured somehow or he wouldn't be feeling like he had been hit by a truck. Was he hit by a truck? He couldn't remember. It would explain why he was certain his head was going to explode and why his leg, chest and oh hell, his entire body was throbbing.

He glanced about the room, the monitors beside him silently recording his vital signs and twin IV bags hung beside his bed. He tried to move his head, but found that he couldn't. That's when he realized he couldn't move much of anything and a panicky feeling sneeked up on him. God....was he paralyzed?

Feeling his heart rate shoot up, he tried to breathe through the fear and the pain, but it was all becoming a little too overwhelming. All he wanted to do was move.

“Hello?” He croaked out weakly, his throat raw. “Anyone?.....Please....” hoping someone would hear his soft plea for help in his voice. He nearly cried in frustration when all he heard was silence in return.

The pain in his chest grew exponentially and it was becoming hard to breathe as fear clutched at him, he struggled to even so much as wiggle, but nothing happened.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that all of this was just a horrible nightmare, that at any moment he would wake up in his bed at home whole and hearty, but it was no dream. On the verge of crying, he battled for control over his emotions. If he was paralyzed, he knew that there was no way he could cope. He would rather be dead than live his life like that.

Just as he thought for certain that his world was coming to an end, he heard a door open and felt a hand touch his shoulder.

“Tony?”

Gibbs?

He stopped struggling for breath and opened his eyes a crack. Somehow the sound of Gibbs' voice had drawn him back to some semblance of normalcy and he found himself relaxing unconsciously. Even though on most days Gibbs scared the living daylights out of him, right at the moment, having the older man there was a comfort he was not expecting.

“You awake?” Gibbs asked.

“Boss?” Tony asked opening his eyes all of the way. Maybe he was just seeing things, but that was definitely Gibbs' face, even if things were a little fuzzy in his brain.

“You in pain, DiNozzo?”

“Agony... I think.... the better term here.” He gasped out as he saw his boss walk up to the head of his bed and take a seat before calmly reaching for a switch on his IV pump and pressed a button.

“Morphine pump. Just press it when you need more.” Tony could feel the effect of the drug already as it raced into his bloodstream and he was grateful for its relief, sighing and letting his heart rate come down to a more manageable level. However, being unable to move was still a cause for alarm.

“I can't move.” He told Gibbs, feeling the panic return again, but there was no way he was going to lose his cool in front of his boss. “m'I paralyzed?”

“No, Tony. But you do have on a neck and back brace and your legs are in traction. Plus you've had enough drugs in your system the last couple of days to bring down a small elephant. You can't move for a reason.”

“Oh...” Tony finally realized that Gibbs was right and could feel the hard plastic around his neck and around his chest and back. He tried to look, but could only pick up his head enough to see the tops of his feet as he gave his toes a wiggle, just to be certain they still worked. Good. Not paralyzed. He sighed and laid his head back down on the pillow in relief.

Thank God. He was only horribly injured. He could deal with that

“Wha' happened?” He asked, the medicine mellowing him far faster than he anticipated and slurring his speech.

“You fell three stories trying to take on a man twice your size.” Gibbs informed him smoothly as he took a sip of coffee. “You remember any of that?”

“No. Last thing I remember was telling Ziva she needed to see Dr. No. and work on her Sean Connery impression.” Tony stated, confused at not being able to remember anthing. Three stories? That was something new. Taking on someone twice his size though? Been there, done that.

“Did I win?” Tony had to ask.

“What do you think?” Gibbs grinned for half a second before turning serious again “Lucky you didn't get yourself killed.”

“Wha's the damages?” Tony had to ask taking a good look at all of the tubing, hardware, wires and machines connected to him.

“Five broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken ankle and compound fracture of the femur of one leg, broken tibia on the other, grade three concussion, not to mention the fractured vertebae that had to be fused and the internal injuries they had to patch up.”

“Does the list end somewhere?” Tony asked, grinning, almost joking. It really wasn't all that funny, but that morphine was really great stuff.

“Let's just say you're gonna be here a while, DiNozzo.”

“How long?” He asked, feeling the pull of sleep dragging him down again.

“Hard to say....Until you're better.”

“A week?” Tony yawned.

“Probably more.”

“Week and a half?”

“It's not a car deal, Tony.” Gibbs sighed. “No negotiations. You stay as long as the doctors want you to stay and you do not leave a moment sooner, understood?”

“Sure, Boss.” Tony's tenuous hold on the waking world was slipping and his eyes slid closed.

“Go back to sleep, Tony.”

“Can do.”

OOOOOOOOOO

Gibbs slipped out of Tony's room, closing the door as quietly as possible. Three days of watching and waiting for his senior field agent to come around from a light coma had been tiring to say the least, but couple that on top of the investigation into Lt. McGraw and his murdered CO and he was nearly dead on his feet.

Definitely time for more coffee.

At least it seemed that Tony was going to be alright. The first night had been pretty touch and go as Tony's internal injuries caused severe bleeding and he was in surgery for more hours than Gibbs could keep track of as the doctors tried to piece his broken body back together. Then he had been placed in a medically induced coma to give his body time to heal and Gibbs had gone back and forth between the Navy Yard and the Hospital hoping to keep a close eye on his agent while getting to the bottom of what made Lt. McGraw attack.

Thankfully, now that Tony was at least conscious again, he could breathe a little easier. However, he was due back at the office in thirty minutes for a meeting with Director Vance he would rather not attend. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what Vance wanted to speak to him about.

Stopping by his normal coffee shop on the way in, Gibbs and his coffee traveled across town to the Navy Yard where he carried his cup from the parking garage, up the elevator, past Ziva and McGee in the bullpen and up the stairs to the Directors office all before his drink could grow cold.

Casually striding into the office where Vance sat at his desk, chewing another one of his damn toothpicks, Gibbs took a sip of his coffee and waited for the director to address him, his patience growing thinner each time Vance pulled the pick from one side of his mouth and transferred it to the other. Without looking up from his paperwork, the Director finally began to speak.

“Everything wrapped up with the McGraw case?” He asked.

“Just about, only need to file the paperwork.” Gibbs responded.

“looking forward to reading it, especially Officer David's report. Like to hear what she has to say about how she and agent DiNozzo were caught by surprise by Lt. McGraw and why she decided to put three bullets into him.” Vance finally glanced up, his toothpick raising with his eyes. “I don't need to remind you that she killed a naval officer.”

“She did what she's trained to do.”

“You mean what Mossad has trained her to do; shoot first and ask questions later.”

“She defended herself and her partner from a naval officer that killed his CO with his bare hands when he couldn't get leave to attend a weight lifting competition and the same naval officer who happened to be on three different kinds of steroids and cocaine when he tried to kill DiNozzo. Ducky explains it all in his report if you ever get around to reading it, there's no way Ziva could have taken him down with anything other than lethal action.”

Vance narrowed his eyes towards Gibbs and the two engaged in a silent war of the wills.

“How is agent DiNozzo, by the way?” Vance Began, his eyes still leveled on the older man.

“He's out of the coma they put him in. He's going to live and hopefully he will be back in a couple of months.”

“That's rather optimistic thinking on your part, don't you think, Agent Gibbs?”

Gibbs stiffened.

“I've been reading the doctor's reports, you know as well as I do that there is a good possibility that Agent DiNozzo may never be able to pass the physical requirements for a field agent again with the kind of injuries he has sustained.”

“He will.” Gibbs stated curtly and with certainty. “You can count on that.”

“We'll just have to wait and see, now won't we?” Vance looked down again to the file open before him. “In the mean time, You're down a man.”

Vance closed the file he had been reviewing and flopped it across his desk to Gibbs. The seasoned agent merely glanced at it, not wanting to pick it up.

“I've got a T.A.D. agent for you. He's only a few months out of FLETC where he graduated top of his class and he just completed his first assignment as agent afloat on the USS Nimitz. He's good, Gibbs. Sharp as a tack-”

“I sense a 'but' coming up.” Gibbs ground out.

“But he needs practical field experience. Something he'll get in abundance on your team.”

“Let me guess, this is the part where you tell me he's already here and I have no choice.” Gibbs crossed his arms, his coffee still attached to his right hand.

“He's already here, you have no choice and he's on you team as of this afternoon. Agent McGee will have to fill in as your senior field agent.”

Gibbs reluctantly uncrossed his arms snatched the file off the desk, narrowing his level gaze with Vance's.

“It's only a temporary assignment, Gibbs. Like you said, it's only for a couple of months.”

Without any further comment, Gibbs headed for the door. He was too angry to speak, yet somehow he knew Vance would do this. He also sensed that this was Vance's way of expressing his authority over Gibbs again. He knew Vance never liked Tony and thought of him more as a screwball than as the competent federal agent that Gibbs knew he was. Even though it had been many months since Jenny's death, he could practically feel the animosity the director exuded towards his senior field agent when he believed Tony had screwed the pooch big time in L.A. He had just been biding his time to find any excuse to see Tony off of Gibbs' team and now here it was.

All of this only made Gibbs more determined than ever to make sure that Tony made it back to his team where he belonged. He would have to push Tony, both physically and mentally, but he would make damn sure that Vance wouldn't win this one. Tony was coming back.

Just as Gibbs reached for the door handle Vance called across the room.

“Tell agent DiNozzo to get better soon.”

“Why don't you tell him yourself, Leon?” With a sharp look thrown back at the director, Gibbs left the office, nearly slamming the door on his way out.

TBC...

Chapter 3

“Hi Boss. How's.....” Before McGee could finish his greeting, Gibbs was already making his way up the steps towards the director's office, completely ignoring him. “.....Tony?”

With a face that McGee had come to recognize as the one Gibbs wore when you didn't want to get in his way, he knew better than to try to even question why he might be in such a foul mood. In fact, it was the kind of mood he had been in all week since Tony was injured and Tim had been on the receiving end of too many headslaps to count since then.

McGee had just hoped that now that the doctors had decided to allow Tony to come out of the coma, that Gibbs might begin to relax a little, maybe even get some much needed sleep. The young agent wasn't even sure if his boss had gotten more than just a couple of cat naps in the last few days and the exhaustion was showing, even with the tremendous amount of caffeine the older man constantly took in, there was only so much even the mighty Gibbs could endure. But it wasn't as if McGee would just walk up to his boss and tell him that though; he did have some survival instincts.

As his boss disappeared into the Director's office, McGee turned his attention to Ziva, who had been watching the senior agent as he charged past the two of them as well.

The strain of the last few days was evident on her face too as her gaze lingered on the now closed door to the director's office. McGee could see that she was wondering what Gibbs was seeing Vance about as much as he was, but when her gaze finally fell on him, they exchanged a silent shrug and knew that Gibbs would let them know what was going on if they needed to know, otherwise there wasn't much else they could do except speculate.

Still holding her attention for the moment, McGee got up and crossed the room to her desk.

“Hey, Abby and I are going to see Tony at lunch, you want to ride with us?” He asked and Ziva looked away, turning to her computer, avoiding eye contact.

“Uh...I have to finish my report on the McGraw case.” She hesitantly answered. McGee knew that Ziva had yet to see Tony at the hospital and he wondered why she was avoiding seeing him.

“C'mon. Tony'll want to see you.”

“I will see him, just....later. He probably does not need so many visitors at once.”

“Oh alright,” McGee nodded. “but the offer stands if you change your mind.”

“Thanks.” She glanced up with a small, forced smile.

McGee began to move back to his desk wondering why Ziva seemed so reluctant to visit Tony and when he thought about it, he couldn't recall if Ziva had even been to the hospital to see him yet. He knew she was concerned, for she was constantly asking for information about Tony from Abby, Gibbs, Ducky or himself. However, it was almost as if Ziva was afraid to see Tony. But that couldn't be it. Ziva wasn't afraid of anything. Was she?

Still pondering the situation, McGee barely heard the ping of the elevator as a sharp-dressed, dark-haired and dark-eyed, young man stepped off. McGee finally took notice when the man approached him and entered the bullpen as though looking for someone.

“Can I help you?” McGee asked. Ziva took notice as well and looked up to watch the exchange.

“Yes....I am looking for special agent Gibbs, I was told he worked on this office.... is he here?”

“He's in a meeting right at the moment, but I work with agent Gibbs. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Ah...well then, perhaps I should introduce myself.” The young man put the briefcase he was carrying down and held out his hand to McGee. “My name is Special Agent Aaron Foster.” McGee shook his hand.

“Special Agent McGee.” Tim introduced himself then pointed to Ziva “And this is Officer Ziva David.”

Ziva stood and shook the new arrival's hand and smiled genially.

“It's nice to meet both of you.” Foster smiled. “I'm looking forward to working with you and....”

“Working with us? Is there a case we should know about?” Ziva asked, putting her hands on her hips. The new agent gave her a confused look.

“What? Oh, No I...I don't think so. I've been assigned here T.A.D....”

“T.A.D.?” Ziva's eyes narrowed.

“As in it's only temporary, Ziva.” Gibbs' voice announced as he came down the stairs, interrupting them, his eyes on the new agent appraisingly.

“Oh...You must be agent Gibbs. I'm.....”

“I know who you are.” Gibbs ignored Foster's outstretched hand.

“Okay.” Foster dropped his hand, his smile fading. “Well, sir. What would you like me to do?”

“For starters, don't call me sir.” Without another word of explanation, The silver-haired man shouldered past Foster and headed for the elevator.

The new agent looked to Ziva and McGee for help.

“I'd follow him if I were you.” McGee offered then watched as the light bulb went off in Foster's head and he quickly turned and made it to the elevator just before the doors closed and he disappeared into the cab with Gibbs.

“What do you think this is all about?” McGee asked Ziva.

“I do not know, but I do not like it.”

“I don't either.” He agreed.

OOOOOOOOOO

As the doors slid closed, Gibbs allowed the elevator to descend a floor before he flicked the emergency stop button, startling the young agent beside him who had yet to become familiar with Gibbs' 'conferences'.

He opened the file in his hand before addressing the young man.

“Special Agent Aaron Foster” He read. “Army West Point grad, Summa Cum Laude. Served six years as an intelligence officer including two tours in Iraq with the 4th Infantry Division. Even had your own company on the second tour. But, it looks like you decided to leave the Army when your obligation to the academy was up. Didn't like the Army much, Foster?”

“Yes, si- I mean, no...Agent Gibbs, but it was never my intention to make the Army a career. My family is anything but rich and West Point paid for my college education. However, what I've always wanted to do was be in law enforcement and become federal agent.”

Gibbs snapped the file shut.

“Really? Then why NCIS? Why not the FBI or another federal agency?”

“Honestly, I still wanted to work with the military, but civilians don't investigate crimes with the Army CID, they only work in a support capacity, which isn't for me. Truthfully, I enjoyed my time in the Army, but this is what I'd rather be doing.”

Gibbs examined the other man's response, he still wasn't sure what to make of him yet, his gut remaining uncharacteristically silent on this one.

“It seems that Director Vance is impressed with your record and I have to admit, it looks good on paper. But you hardly have any field experience. You may have graduated at the head of your class at West Point and at FLETC, but none of that matters from here on out. On my team you start at the bottom and that's where you will stay until my senior field agent returns. In the mean time, you will do everything that you are told, not just by me, but by Agent McGee and Officer David as well or you'll be finding yourself shipped off to the nearest team so fast, it'll make your head spin. You got it?

“Yes, Agent Gibbs.” Gibbs only nodded and Foster met the older agent's eyes. The kid at least had the guts to do that, most of the probie's he ever had to work with had trouble doing that their first few days with the exception of Tony, of course...and Kate. While Kate had been gone for some time and he had fully accepted Ziva onto his team after that, he found it difficult to think that there was any chance in hell that he ever going to think of this guy as Tony's replacement. He would just have to put up with him for the time being.

Flicking the switch to the emergency stop button again, the lights in the elevator flashed back on and Gibbs pressed the up button to return the elevator to the bullpen.

“Go find a place to sit and stay out of the way for now.” Gibbs ordered the new agent as they stepped off the elevator. Of course, Foster headed for Tony's desk as it was the nearest unoccupied seat next to the elevator. Gibbs stopped him short with a clip to the back of the head.

“Not that one.” Gibbs' eyes bored into Foster's wide eye reaction to being physically assaulted . “You haven't earned that seat. You can go down there.” He pointed to the desk behind McGee's and Foster walked back down there and took a seat, giving McGee a little grin in greeting as he sat.

"Is he always like this?" Foster asked McGee.

"No, he's usually meaner." He informed him flatly.

“Go to Lunch.” Gibbs called out as he settled into his seat. McGee and got up and began putting on his coat and Foster got up as well, heading to the elevator.

“Not you, Foster.” Gibbs stopped him, causing McGee to stop and watch as Gibbs grabbed a stack of files and plopped them into the newest agent's hands.

“You just got here. Go file.” he ordered.

“Right." Foster responded, looking at the stack, a little put out by the menial task. "I guess I better get to it, Agent Gibbs.”

“It's not all action all of the time, Foster. Get used to it.” Gibbs deadpanned and the younger man nodded and walked off to complete his assignment.

“You coming, Ziva?” Gibbs watched McGee ask as he came up to her desk on his way to the elevator.

“Uh...No, you and Abby go on ahead.... I need to finish this.” She pointed to her monitor and the report she had been typing.

“Alright, I'll tell Tony you said 'hi'.” McGee responded with a hint of disappointment.

“That would be nice. Thank-you, McGee.”

McGee headed to the elevator and Gibbs turned to Ziva, who was now staring out the window, lost in thought, doing anything but focusing on her report and he knew something had to be wrong.

“You should go with McGee, Ziva.” Gibbs began, speaking as he reviewed files in front of him, not wanting to appear too concerned about her reluctance to visit Tony lest he make her feel as though she was doing something horrible by not wanting to see Tony in his current state. He understood. It was hard even for him to see such a vital and alive man be brought down by something so simple as gravity. But he knew too from experience that hiding from it, would only make things worse.

“He's not as broken as you may think.” He added and Ziva turned her head to Gibbs as if she just heard him and the two made eye contact. He was getting through.

“I will later.” She replied. “However, I wish to speak with him alone.”

Gibbs only nodded before turning back to his work. This he understood as well. Sometimes there were things that had to be said that you just couldn't say with an audience around.

OOOOOOOOOO

As Tony woke up again, the pain wasn't as great as it was last time, but a quick press of the button for some meds was still in order. This time, he sensed that he wasn't alone as he heard the flipping of pages off to his side. He turned his head to the left towards the sound and smiled a bit at the sight and the fact that he could turn his head without being in agony.

“Ducky?” He greeted.

“Ah, Anthony.” The perky doctor replied with a pleasant smile. “It is good to see you awake. Gibbs wanted me to make sure you were not alone when you woke this time and I assured him that I would keep a close watch over you.”

“Thanks Ducky, but that's really not necessary-”

“Nonsense.” Ducky came back. “It is a pleasure, especially since there happens to be no cases that require my attention at this time and it allows me to catch up on my reading.” Ducky held up the magazine he had been studying before Tony woke up.

“Hmm, Human Forensic Psychology Journal.....Sounds....pretty boring.” Tony told him truthfully

“Some people actually buy magazines for the articles, Tony and not the pictures of half-naked women” A voice called from the door and Tony turned his head again and grinned.

“Probie!” Tony greeted McGee as a grin spread across his face and he began to stroll in. He never imagined he'd be so happy to see the younger man and he had to admit that he was missing his daily dose of picking on him or making him squirm.

"Let me at 'im, McGee!" Tony heard before Tim could enter the room completely and a pigtailed figure holding a large balloon bouquet shouldered past McGee, running up to the head of the bed. Balloons flying into the face of the hapless doctor beside him.

“Abbs!”

“Tony!” She squealed, going in for a hug.”It's so good to see you awake!”

“Gently-” He pleaded knowing how hard she could squeeze a person when she was excited.

“Right.” She embraced him lightly, laying her head onto his shoulder briefly then kissing his cheek.

“Abigail-.” Ducky called as the balloons tried to swallow him up. “Please...”

“Oh sorry, Ducky.” She removed the balloons from his face and tied them to the head of the bed instead.

“Thanks for the balloons, Abby.” Tony told her as he watched the colorful arrangement bounce against each other over his head. “Cool...Mighty Mouse and Sponge-Bob.”

“I thought you'd like those...ooh and look at this...” She pulled out one balloon and Tony's smile widened.

“Awww- Abbs...A Sean Connery as James Bond balloon, where'd you find one like that?”

“There's a shop on 5th street that custom designs anything you want on a balloon....isn't it great?” She beamed. “Oh!....I got you something else too.” She pulled out what Tony could only make out as two fuzzy black things from her hand bag.

“What are those?” He was almost too afraid to ask

She went to the foot of the bed and held them up, one in each hand.

“Socks, Silly.” She announced. As she began to slip them over his feet, she continued a lightening fast speech pattern that spoke of one too many Caf-Pows!

“I was telling Gibbs while you were asleep that you looked like your toes were cold. He said that you weren't feeling much of anything, but I could tell that you needed some nice warm and fuzzy socks. But those stuffy nurses in ICU wouldn't let me put anything on you and I had to wait until you woke up...But now you're awake, so I decorated these for you. They're wool- that way your little piggies will never be cold.”

Tony had to grin at the ridiculous pair of socks now adorning his lower appendages. They were all black save for the skull and crossbones sewn onto the top of each of them and they were about the thickest and furriest things he ever had on his feet. Very Abby. Plus he had to agree that his feet did feel a lot better now that they weren't out in the open air anymore.

“Thanks, Abbs....They're very....warm.” She bounced up and down and grinned, loving that he appreciated her gift.

There was only one thing missing from this little reunion.

“Where's Ziva and Gibbs?” Tony asked. Abby and Tim looked at each other.

“What?” Tony asked.

“Ziva um....uh...she had a lot of work to finish up....and Gibbs is... well, he was keeping an eye on.....nevermind.” He bumbled over his words and Tony could almost see the internal ass-kicking he was giving himself. He was saying more than he intended and that put Tony on edge.

“Nevermind?” Tony asked “What's that supposed to mean, McGoo?” Tim closed his eyes, Tony had the sinking feeling that there was something going on at work that he was not going to like.

“Come closer, Probie.” He ordered the younger man when he didn't get an answer and McGee reluctantly edged closer to the head of Tony's bed.

“Closer.” Tony demanded and McGee stepped nearer by a couple of feet, right next to Tony's head.

“Closer, McGoo” Tony beckoned with the finger still attached to the pulse ox-monitor and McGee leaned in, thinking that Tony had to whisper something into his ear. Instead Tony's free hand made contact with the back of Tim's head as hard as Tony could manage without causing him any additional pain. It may not have been very hard, but it was still effective in getting his teammate's attention.

“What's going on, McGee?” He demanded to know.

“Well, uh...we were gonna wait until you were feeling better...” He looked to Abby for help, but she only bit her lip.

“Just say it, already. Will ya?” McGee's mouth hung open for a moment as he decided what to do, finally he began to speak again.

“Vance has brought in another agent, Tony. But just temporarily....” Tim told him.

“Another agent? Why?”

“He's kind of your....replacement...of sorts...But just until you can go back to field work, of course.” McGee added quickly, but Tony saw the flicker of doubt that flashed across McGee's face and he saw also that he wasn't the only one. Abby too wouldn't meet his eyes and Ducky was uncharacteristically quiet. He knew right then that they weren't sure he was coming back.

Silence hung in the room like a shroud until Ducky ushered Abby and McGee out, offering to buy them some coffee and claiming that Tony needed his rest. But how was he supposed to rest knowing that someone else was going to be doing his job, a job he was beginning to suspect he might not be able to come back to anymore?

Alone in his room, his head a swirl of mixed emotions, he felt for the first time since he woke up a sense of things beyond his control and a small, nagging pang of fear creeped up from the back of his mind. What if this wasn't temporary? What good would he be to Gibbs if he didn't get back on the team? Where would he go if he couldn't go back? What would he do?

What if all he could do was deskwork?

That just wasn't an option. Not in Tony's book.

If he could only will his bones and his body to mend faster, he would. He'd do anything to make damn sure that he wouldn't be laying here helplessly on his backside for long. He had to get back, he'd accept no less; there was no way he was gonna let himself be replaced. No way.

TBC....

Chapter 4

Ducky hung his hat and trenchcoat onto the coat-rack and sighed as he made his way to his desk and sat down, grabbing a stack of files and records that Jimmy had left for him to sign off on. He meant to begin his task, however his thoughts were on anything but work right at the moment. His mind kept wandering back to the conversation he had earlier with Tony earlier that afternoon.

It had been no easy task to return to that hospital room after McGee and Abby left to head back to work. He knew Tony had figured it out that there was the possibility that he had sustained injuries that endangered his chances of returning to active field duty when Timothy let it slip that a T.A.D. agent had been assigned to the team in his absence.

Ducky walked into the room and Tony didn't so much as acknowledge his presence, but maintained a level gaze on the ceiling above and remained uncharacteristically quiet as the medical examiner took a seat next to Tony's head. As a medical doctor, Ducky had seen his fair share of devastating injuries and he knew from experience that young men like Tony who thrived on their physical accomplishments and active lifestyles often had the hardest times accepting their limitations and as a consequence, when faced with the possible outcome of being relieved of his job, he worried that it just might crush this particular young man.

“You know, I once met a man in Nepal when I was traveling through there with the Royal Medical Corps.” Ducky began. He saw Tony sigh.

“Now, now...hear me out. I know I do tend to prattle on sometimes, but you should listen to this. Anyway, this man was an expert mountain climber, he summited some of the world's tallest mountains including, Mt. Kilimanjaro and Mt. Everest. He was a dynamic man, full of zest for life and he told me the story of how one day, far from the adventures he sought, he was in his home town, I believe it was New Jersey...or New York...one of those....Anyway, He was out one morning, minding his own business, just taking a leisurely stroll out in his neighborhood when he was struck by an intoxicated driver. He was terribly injured and doctors were quite certain he would never walk again and his days as a mountain climber were certainly over.”

“So let me guess...” Tony finally spoke up, still staring up at the ceiling. “He worked hard, pushed himself and finally he regained the use of his legs and he was able to climb mountains again, right? And this is supposed to be some sort of analogy for me? Work hard and I'll get my job back, right?” Tony turned his head to Ducky, fire and determination burning in his eyes.

“ Well, I'm already planning on doing just that, Ducky. I have no intention of letting some Goddamn, snot-nosed temp agent do the job I'm supposed to be doing. Not for long.”

Ducky sighed and shook his eyes, rubbing his eyes under his glasses in frustration. This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Anthony, I feel you should hear the rest of the story.” The doctor continued. “My friend did work very hard. Too hard. He pushed himself so much in fact, that he burned out from physical exhaustion and re-injured himself several times before he finally came to the realization that he needed to slow down in order to hasten his recovery. Eventually, he was able to regain his former strength, but it took him more than just hard work; It took time, Anthony.”

“From the moment he was hit by that car to the time he climbed another mountain, five years went by. I just want to be honest with you, my boy. You have a long road ahead of you and if you try to rush things you may only succeed in frustrating yourself. Give your body time to heal before you go all-out in trying to find that mountain to climb. Little steps at a time. You must learn to crawl before you walk, then walk before you can run and I have little doubt that you are determined and anxious to get back to Gibbs' team as soon as possible as much as I know Gibbs wants you back, but it could be a while and I want you to be prepared for that possibility.”

Tony's face took on a serious and pained expression and he turned his head back towards the ceiling.

“Try to rest, Anthony. I know what I'm talking about here. I may speak to my dead patients, but it is my living ones that I truly care about the most.” Ducky patted Tony's shoulder even as the younger man turned his head away. The truth could be hard to confront and Ducky had decided it best to give Tony the time he needed to begin sorting things out for himself in private. He got up from his seat and headed for the door.

“I don't care what you say, Ducky. I don't want to climb any mountains, I just want to do my job and I'm not staying like this for long.” Tony spoke softly from his bed.

“I know. That was what I was afraid you would say.” Ducky responded mostly to himself before he left the room.

Now as the doctor sat at his desk, he wondered if he had been a bit too hasty in confronting Tony with the truth so soon into his recovery. He certainly didn't want to take Tony's hope away. Determination and drive were good things when it came to the kind of rehabilitation Tony would require, but he merely wanted him to be aware of the fact that his body would not be able to recover as fast as he might want it to and he could just see the young agent, pushing him so hard that he broke.

He knew Gibbs would be there to help his agent along the way to wholeness, but he also worried that Gibbs' single-minded determination might press Tony beyond what he is capable of accomplishing. He knew he would have to have the same talk with Gibbs soon and he was not looking forward to that conversation either. Even though Jethro was his oldest friend and they had been through much together, he was still just as stubborn as a mule as ever and trying to talk him out of something after he had his heart and mind set on was nearly next to impossible.

Speaking of the devil himself, Ducky heard a noise at the door and turned to see Gibbs strolling up to him, a file in one hand.

“Just come back from the hospital, Duck?” Gibbs asked.

“Indeed, Jethro.”

“How's Tony doing?”

“He is bound and determined to get out of that bed as soon as possible.”

“Good.” Gibbs responded

“No, Jethro. It is not good.” Ducky told him pointedly.

“Duck?”

“Anthony knows that a T.A.D. agent is here to fill in for him during his convalescence. I can already see how much it is distressing him to think that his job as a field agent is on the line and I am concerned that he may be reluctant to see reason when it comes to just how important it will be for him to have patience with his recovery.”

“So what do you want me to do about that?” Gibbs asked.

“I would begin by suggesting that you let go of your own expectations for Agent DiNozzo's return to duty. We are looking at more than just a couple of months here. Possibly a lot more. This will be a long journey for Anthony, but if he sees that you are in it with him for the entire duration and that you don't want him to rush it just for your benefit, then he will follow your lead. He always has before.”

Ducky could see by the way Gibbs stiffened that he has hit a nerve.

“Are you saying I shouldn't push Tony? Because, I know he can do this. He's strong and he may be a pain in the ass, but he's my pain in the ass and I'll deal with him as I see fit.”

“Jethro....”

“No, Duck.” Gibbs turned away, reigning in his anger, before turning back to his old friend with a fire burning behind his blue eyes “Tony's going to make it back here soon and I'm going to make damn sure of that.”

“Ah yes, I see now....What would I know? I'm only a doctor with over 40 years of experience with these sort of things.” Ducky shook his head in frustration and sighed. He and Tony were almost too much alike and he was certain the two of them were going to be the death of him one day.

“Duck....” Gibbs implored, shaking his head.

“Just what did you come down here for anyway, Jethro?” Ducky asked, more than a little ticked-off bit his friend's resistance to listen to him.

Gibbs placed the file he was holding on Ducky's desk.

“Think you can take a look at this when you get the chance?”

“What is this?” Ducky asked picking up the file and opening it.

“The new T.A.D. Agent. Not sure what to make of him yet. I'd like your opinion on him.”

“You want me to profile him? Have we not had this discussion before shortly after Agent Langer was killed by Agent Lee?”

“Like I said, I just want your opinion of him....” Gibbs sighed. “As a friend.”

Ducky closed his eyes, he was more tired than he ever thought possible.

“Fine, Jethro. I'll take a look at it tonight. I'll let you know what I think in the morning, whether you want listen to what I believe or not.”

Gibbs just stood there for a moment and the now exhausted medical examiner truly hoped that he had gotten through. But when the senior agent turned on his heel and left the morgue, Ducky wasn't so sure. He could see already that Gibbs was going to be hell to be around until or if until Tony returned to the team, somehow that young man had a way of diffusing tension in Gibbs in a way no one else, including himself was ever capable of doing. He just hoped his friend didn't bring everyone else down with him when reality came a-knocking.

OOOOOOOOOO

Ziva shut down her computer as McGee and Agent Foster headed for the elevator. She had every intention of just heading home for the evening now that Gibbs had released them, but she had told McGee and Gibbs both that she would see Tony later. However she was still reluctant to make that trip down to see him.

Whenever she thought about him, all she could see was his pained expression as she tired to stem the flow of blood from his broken leg. It was hard for her to think of Tony as anything other than the self-assured, cocky jock that he portrayed on a daily basis and for some reason, as long as she thought she could avoid seeing him in that vulnerable position again, then she could continue to think of him as he usually was and everything would be as normal as ever.

However, that just wasn't the case. Instead, every time she looked up from her desk, all she saw was Tony's empty spot where he should be leaning back in his chair, charming his next conquest over the phone or throwing spit-wads at McGee. Instead there was an eerie silence the likes of which she never expected to hate so much.

Maybe that's why she found herself pulling into the hospital parking lot and was now standing outside of his door, her hand hesitating over the handle.

Taking a deep inhale, she decided it was time to quit being such a coward and finally enter the room. Pulling the door open, her heart nearly melted a bit at the sight that greeted her and she couldn't help by smile a little and take down those inhibitions she had been feeling beforehand.

On the bed before her was Tony, his feet up in traction and covered by thick black, fuzzy socks, his head rolled off to the side, a small line of drool falling from his lips to his pillow and hands cupping a small, half-eaten container of vanilla pudding that he appeared to have fallen asleep while eating.

Thinking that she had missed her chance to speak with him that night, she headed for the door to leave.

“Hey....Wait.” She heard mumbled from the bed

“Tony?”

“Don't go yet, Ziva.”

She turned back to him and came up beside him uncomfortably.

“Hi.” He greeted.

“Hi.” She returned.

“So....”

“So....” She nodded. Awkward conversations were a new thing between her and Tony. Normally the banter between them came easily, but now....she wasn't sure what to say or where to start.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come by.”

“I am sorry. I had a lot of work to catch up on.” She lied.

“Sure you did....” He caught on to her deceit. “or you're just chicken.”

“Chicken? What does a barnyard fowl have to do with anything?” She asked confused.

“You're a Chicken, Ziva...As in you've been afraid. I get it. It's okay. It's no fun to visit your crippled partner in the hospital.” He gave her a little lopsided grin.

“You are not crippled, Tony.” Ziva rolled her eyes with a small grin that mirrored his, grateful for his light attitude. Perhaps this wouldn't be so hard after all.

“I'm about as close as I care to come.” He replied, his smile fading as he looked to his hands.

Ziva's face softened, her guilty conscience coming to the fore and she knew she would be unable to wrestle with it for much longer. Tony was right. She had been a coward. She should have come sooner, but she was too afraid. Too afraid of admitting her mistakes, but mostly afraid of exposing how much she really cared for Tony not just as a partner, but as a friend as well.

“Tony....I am....I want to apologize.” She began hesitantly. “I feel like this is in large part my fault.”

“Why? Did you push me off the balcony?” He smiled, that cocky smile that always had a way of either putting her at ease or irritating her to no end. “Seriously, I don't remember...You didn't, Did you?”

“No, I did not.” smiling in return, she replied, but dropped the smile as she recalled the events of that day. The same events that had been playing over and over again in her head for days like a movie stuck in an endless loop.

“But....I should have done more to ensure your safety. I was at the other end of the apartment we were clearing when Lt. McGraw came at you. I should have been closer to your six. Perhaps things might have turned out...differently and maybe you wouldn't be in here.”

“I may not remember anything about what happened, but I do know it's not your fault, Ziva. Plus, I hear the guy was 250 pounds of solid muscle fueled by 'roid rage and about half a pound of cocaine. Even with your super, Mossad ninja skills, there wasn't anything you could do. Even Wonder Woman, who by the way you should look into getting fashion tips from, wouldn't have been able to prevent what happened.”

“Besides, I'll be fine. I'll be back soon.” He added confidently.

“I know you will.” Ziva and Tony's eyes finally met each other and with a nod from her she conveyed all the rest of what she wanted him to know. Her concern for him, her thankfulness that he didn't feel she was rsponsible for his fall and her desire to see him get better and to get back to the team again where they could be partners once again.

OOOOOOOOOO

Special Agent Aaron Foster was no stranger to hard work.

Or ambition.

As he settled down into his bed for the evening, he recalled how from a young age,he pulled himself up from the poverty of his mother's home, worked two jobs after school while maintaining a straight-A grade point, then made it into the military academy at West Point, pushing himself both physically and mentally, graduating in the top 5% of his class. From there he went to the intelligence Corps where he excelled as well, earning praises, commendations and medals from his superior officers and achieving the rank of Captain with his own company after just four years in service.

But he had always wanted more than to be just a military officer.

Not that he really wanted to earn more and make more money. It wasn't about that so much as it was his desire to be a person of authority. Someone people would look to for answers. Someone that even his drunk asshole of a father would recognize as an important person.

Starting at the bottom again after getting out of the Army had been a bit of a blow to his ego, but he hoped that he had proven himself to the Director that he was a smart and capable agent by graduating at the head of his class at FLETC and busting an on-board drug ring while serving as Agent Afloat aboard the Nimitz and that he was now on his way up. Now being assigned to the major case team at NCIS headquarters, he hoped that this would improve his chances or promotion, maybe even land him his own team soon and from there, who knew? He could even become director or even be appointed to work with the SecNav or higher.

He deserved this chance.

He had worked hard for it.

And nothing was going to stop him from grabbing hold of this opportunity and not letting go.

As he lay in bed and recalled the events of his first day, he couldn't help but feel a little more confident of his chances here. If there was one thing that being an ex-Army intelligence officer had to offer, it was his ability to gather and use information to his advantage. He had already learned a lot so far on his first day, just by listening and asking a few little questions here and there and he felt he had come to see just what sort of standards he was up against when compared to the rest of Gibbs' team.

Most of the personnel he encountered offered their sympathies when he told them he was assigned to Agent Gibbs' team, but everyone agreed that despite it all, his team was almost legendary in their ability to solve cases and generally kicked major criminal ass. Gibbs himself was looked upon in an almost a folk-hero fashion; the former Marine Gunnery Sergeant that took crap from no one and expected nothing but the best from his agents.

Aaron could handle that. He always strove to be the best at everything he did and he didn't want anyone to feel sorry for him because he was one Gibbs' team. He was proud to be chosen so soon into his career as a federal agent to be apart of such an elite team and if all went well and it turned out that Agent DiNozzo wouldn't be coming back then, he had to be prepared to make certain that Gibbs would decide to keep him on the team permanently.

There was just one problem.

He had to make sure that Agent DiNozzo never returned to Gibbs' team.

From what he had learned already about his competition, it was not going to be an easy task to get in on the good graces of Agent Gibbs and the rest of his team, but he could do it-of that he was certain.

Agent McGee would probably be the easiest to influence and possibly Officer David as well as he had learned that Agent DiNozzo was known for his rather annoying and irritating behavior towards his fellow teammates.

Then there was Abby Scuito, the weird, goth forensic scientist he met earlier when Agent McGee gave him a quick tour of the facility. As she eyed him with suspicion, he could feel her animosity towards him and the photos of Agent DiNozzo displayed in a prominent collage on her wall was a testimony to her loyalty to her friend. She would be a little harder to get on his side, but given a little bit of time and a little charming, he could do it- it always worked before.

After all, there was a reason why he advanced so quickly during his time in the Army. Because not only was he smart and competent, but people liked him. He had a way with people and knew how to find subtle ways of making connections with them in ways they sometimes never realized.

His greatest obstacle would of course be winning over Agent Gibbs himself. He would be a tough cookie to crack and getting into his favor would be difficult. Known for his unfathomable loyalty to the injured agent, he knew it would be no small task to make agent Gibbs come to realize that he's be better of with him on his team rather than Agent DiNozzo. How he would go about doing this he wasn't completely sure yet, but he was certain that one way or another he'd get what he wanted.

TBC.....

Chapter 5

It was 0730 when Tim strolled into the office and headed for his desk, greeting a more upbeat Ziva and a still grouchy Gibbs. Ziva at least looked like she had finally gotten at least a half-way decent night's sleep, but Gibbs still looked like hell. Did the man ever sleep? He wondered.

Taking his seat, he turned his attention to his computer. At least that was one constant in his life he could count on: Computers. They were easy to figure out, they did what hey were told, their programs were logical and predictable. People on the other hand.... It was sad to say, but McGee knew that he was way better at computers than he was at getting to know people. That's probably why he wasn't very comfortable with Agent Foster yet as the newest agent greeted him with a friendly smile.

For some reason that made him think of Tony and how much he missed him. Funny how the guy who tormented him on a daily basis could actually be missed, but he couldn't help it. Maybe they had their differences...Okay, maybe they were completely opposite, but Tony had a way of getting under his skin and staying, like an itch that wouldn't go away...no scratch that. He was more like a the big brother he never had that mercilessly teased him all of the time, giving him noogies or slapping him upside the head, calling him endless nicknames by adding 'Mc' to just about anything. But when he was in trouble, which was more often than he cared to admit, he knew Tony would be there to back him up. He always did.

Perhaps thats why he was a little annoyed when Agent Foster came up behind, putting his hand onto the back of his chair as he leaned forward, looking into his screen as he began his work.

“Hey, is that the new system from DoD you're using there?” He asked. McGee looked over his shoulder towards the eager probie, a little uncomfortable with his proximity, but Foster took the hint and backed off a few inches.

“Uh, yeah. It's a lot faster than what we were using previously, I just installed it for everyone last week. You need help with it?” McGee figured the new guy probably would need some instruction on using the new program. Gibbs and Ziva were still swearing every ten minutes when they encountered something new and unfamiliar with it and both had been skeptical that it would be of any benefit, even though McGee knew without a doubt that it was a far superior program to the last version.

“Actually, no. I just wanted you to know that it's great. You're right, it's way faster than what we were using before, especially what I had to use on the Nimitz.”

“So...you get all of this...no problems....nothing you need me to help with?”

“Nope...While I was in the Army we used systems much like this, but this one is by far the best I've encountered in a while. I've always been fascinated by computers and software. In fact, I took the basic and advanced Seized Computer Evidence Recovery Program at FLETC. I was actually interested in possibly getting on the Computer Analysis Response Team for a while there, but I'd much rather do field work. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do. I was working Cyber Crimes for a few months, but it sure wasn't as interesting as working with Gibbs- That's for sure.” Tim replied, agreeing with Foster.

Tim wasn't used to anyone understanding even some of the basics of the computer systems they worked with, except for Abby, but then again she was the exception to just about every rule. But now, having someone on the team that understood more than just the word processor might be quite handy and he couldn't help but be impressed by Foster, even if he came off as a little on the conceited side.

“You two done yammering?” Gibbs suddenly appeared, darkening his desk. “Gear-up we got a dead Marine.”

All the way to the crime scene, McGee and Foster talked software while Ziva sighed every few minutes just to remind them that she was still in the truck. Pulling up to the scene, Gibbs had already beat them there, and was waiting for them to get out, which came as no surprise to either Ziva or McGee, but left the newbie scratching his head.

“How'd he get here so fast?” He asked as they began to file out of the cab. “We all left at the same time.”

“Take a ride with him one day and you'll find out.” McGee informed him. “If there's only one thing Gibbs is incapable of doing, it's going the speed limit.”

Walking up to the truck, Gibbs surveyed his agents before he pointed to a deep ravine just off the shoulder of the highway where they were parked.

“Our dead Marine is one Sgt. Eric Nelson from Quantico and he's at the bottom of the ravine over there. Passer-bys noticed him while they were out walking this morning and called the local LEO's, I'm going to go talk to them. McGee you sketch, Ziva take photos, Foster bag and tag.”

“Wait, Agent Gibbs” As Gibbs began to walk away, Foster took off after him and tapped him on the shoulder, causing the seasoned agent to spin around, giving the new agent a deadly glare.

“What?” Gibbs asked testily.

“Would you mind if I come with you? I've had plenty of experience with collecting evidence before, but I have yet to interview witnesses in the field and I'd love to examine your technique. I also think my experience as an intelligence officer might be better utilized in this way.”

Tim looked at Ziva and they both began to slink away to the back of the truck slowly, hoping to avoid the inevitable explosion they both knew would be coming.

“You have something against what I've assigned you? “ Gibbs asked, irritation marking his features and getting into Foster's face. “If you haven't noticed, we aren't out here for your education, we're here to find out what killed that Marine down there. I don't give a damn what you did before in the Army, you're a federal agent now and if you want to stay on my team for the rest of your T.A.D. you will do the job I just told you to do!” Gibbs pointed to the truck angrily “...Now, get over there, get some damn bags, collect the evidence and tag it! Am I clear or do you need further instructions, Agent Foster?”

“Ah...um...no, Agent Gibbs...I understand.” Foster replied his mouth gaping open a bit.

Without another word besides a scowl, Gibbs turned away again and headed for the witnesses. Foster came and joined McGee and Ziva behind the truck and pulled out a pair of gloves, snapping them on as he found the evidence bags.

“I should have warned you that Gibbs is a little grumpy first thing in the morning” Tim pointed out.

“Yeah, I picked up on that.” Foster retorted, his face unreadable, but Tim knew he had to be upset from the dressing down and more than a little angry for not being allowed to do what he wanted. Hefting the supply bags, Foster took off with the equipment in a huff, leaving Ziva and McGee behind by themselves momentarily.

Tim started to head off towards the body when Ziva grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him back anf giving him an intense look.

“What are you doing, McGee?” She asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You and Foster are getting awfully chubby, are you not?”

“Chubby?” McGee asked with a confused and somewhat hurt face, he had put on a couple of pounds but.....then realization hit him “Oh....Do you mean chummy? Because if you are, we're working together, Ziva. Am I supposed to hate him, just because he's not Tony? He seems like pretty nice guy to me and it can't hurt to be nice back.”

“No. You do not have to hate him, but you do need to keep a professional attitude towards him. He may be a nice guy and you may have a lot in common, but you are the senior field agent for now and he is the Probie. Do you think Tony would have let you just get away with doing what agent Foster just did with Gibbs without letting you know what you were doing wrong?”

“I'm not Tony. I'm not going to go around slapping the back of the poor guy's head every time he makes a mistake.”

“Perhaps you do not have to correct him physically. But, he does need correction in one form or another or he is bound to repeat his mistakes and when he does, just who do you think Gibbs will blame?”

Tim sighed realizing she was right. By now, Tony would have smacked him so hard, his head would have spun around like a top, but he would know without a doubt that he would never make whatever mistake he just made again.

“I guess you're right.” McGee agreed as he and Ziva headed down the hill to the scene where Foster was already beginning his work. Ziva went off to take photos while McGee walked up to Foster.

“Hey, Just a few things we need to clear up real quick here.” Foster looked up at McGee from his crouched position on the ground next to the body and stood.

“I think it's time you learn some of Gibbs' rules.” McGee continued.

“Rules? What rules, Agent McGee?” He asked.

“The rules... The rules everyone that works with Gibbs needs to learn.” McGee tried to explain.

“Okay. You think you could email me a copy of them to my PDA and I'll look them over when we get back to the office?”

“Well, no., I can't. Infact, I don't think anyone has ever written them all down. You just gotta kinda learn them. So, today we'll start will rule number 15.”

“Rule 15?”

“Yeah. Always work as a team- We all work together, Foster. That means no one job is more important than another. We all have a vital role to play when it comes to investigations, whether that's collecting the evidence, questioning witnesses or just doing the paperwork. So when Gibbs or I or Ziva give you a job to do you.... do it because it's for the team and no one works alone here.”

“Okay." Foster nodded then added: "So, just how many of these rules are there?”

“About 50 or so, I think.”

“Why didn't Gibbs tell me about this?”

“If you haven't noticed. He's a little distracted lately.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.... I'm sorry. Agent McGee. It won't happen again.”

“Oh, that's another rule- number 26. Never apologize, it's a sign of weakness.”

“I guess have a lot to learn when it comes to Agent Gibbs.” Foster leaned in to McGee with a little grin. “Is there a way to get on his good side?”

“Sure- if he had one.” Foster's face fell. “I'm just kidding, just do as you're told and don't question Gibbs and you just might survive your T.A.D.” McGee slapped his back and walked off to start sketching.

OOOOOOOOOO

Gibbs noticed the coroner's van pull up just as he wrapped up his interview with the young couple that encountered the body while out for a walk. There was little information they could offer other than the time they found the body, so hopefully Ducky could shed some light on the case.

He approached the van, hearing a familiar argument between Palmer and Ducky as they had become hopelessly lost for almost half an hour before finding the crime scene.

“I turned right, just like you said doctor.” Palmer complained as Ducky walked around the front of the van.

“I said the first right after the expressway, Jimmy, not the second.....” Gibbs walked up just as the older doctor was prepared to lay into his assistant.

“Duck.” Gibbs greeted as Jimmy made his escape to back of the van.

“Ah, Good morning, Jethro. Once again, I must apologize for our tardiness. I'm afraid that neither Mr. Palmer nor myself is very familiar with this particular area.”

Gibbs wasn't paying too much attention to Ducky's apology as he caught sight of and was looking down the hill at the three agents busily working the crime scene below. While they all quickly and efficiently performed their assigned tasks, there was an emptiness about it.

He knew what it was immediately.

It wasn't just something that was missing, but someone.

There was none of the easy banter or light joking around there usually was at crime scenes like these. Tony always had a way of releasing some of that nervous tension that always came with seeing another human being laying dead on the ground. With a little gallows humor, tales of his sexual exploits, practical jokes or inappropriate movie references, he had a way of making people forget that they were dealing with sometimes gruesome and terrible ways to die and instead had them focusing their energy on being annoyed with him. Sure, sometimes he could take it a little far, but a quick smack to the back of the head usually let him know when to reign it in. But without him here, things were just downright grim and Gibbs was surprised to find himself quite off-put and maybe even a little disturbed by the way McGee, Foster and Ziva methodically examined the scene without so much as a word to each other.

“It's just not the same without him here, is it?” Ducky asked, reading his mind.

“Nope.” He agreed. “But it's certainly quieter.”

“Indeed, but quiet is not always a good thing.”

“You get a chance to look over that file, Duck?”

“Oh, yes. It was quite interesting.”

“What do you think?”

“Is that famous gut of yours churning, Jethro? For I hear the distinct tincture of concern in your voice over your newest addition.” Ducky pointed out. Gibbs had indeed begun to feel a little niggle of something with Foster, especially after their little issue with the task Gibbs gave him earlier. He wasn't sure if it was just the over-eagerness that got to him or just his own feelings about Foster replacing Tony that got in the way, either way, he hoped Ducky could enlighten him.

“Perhaps. I just want to know if I can trust him.” Gibbs admitted.

“Or perhaps, you just don't want to trust him.” Duck returned. “Because he's no substitute for Anthony and you are afraid that might affect your judgment of him- Bias you against him.”

“Thats why I'm asking what you think of him.”

“Well in that case, I suppose I should begin by telling you that there is nothing in his record to suggest that there is anything that could be considered alarming. He was an outstanding student, outstanding officer, outstanding at FLETC and outstanding on the Nimitz. In fact, I would venture to say that Agent Foster had quite possibly never failed at anything he has ever attempted in his life. He is driven, ambitious and his record veritably shines in the sun it is so highly polished.”

“So, in other words: he's perfect.”

“No one is perfect, Jethro. What worries me is the fact that he appears to have never failed at anything. He began his life in a troubled home, but worked his way out and everything he has sought after that, everything he has worked and strived for, he has achieved. Certainly a man with such a tightly wound, and classic Type-A personality might be catastrophically demoralized if he should ever not attain any goal he has set for himself, no matter how lofty. However, this is just an assessment from what I have gathered from his personnel file. Of course, I can't truly make a complete profile on the lad until I've had a chance to interact with him.”

“I know, Ducky.” Gibbs turned back to his friend with a ghost of a smile. “I just want you to know that I appreciate your opinion.....and I am listening.”

Remembering the conversation he had with Ducky the previous day, Gibbs couldn't help but feel a small pang of remorse for so quickly dismissing the doctor's opinion that he should take it slow when it came to Tony's recovery. Gibbs had had all night sanding his boat to think about it and had come to the realization that Ducky might be right, even if he didn't want him to be. He knew that Ducky would never expect an apology from Gibbs, so letting him know that he considered his advice invaluable would just have to suffice.

“I'm glad to hear it.” Ducky nodded with a grin, his non-apology accepted. Gibbs patted his old friend on the shoulder and moment later Palmer walked up to them, his hands loaded up with supplies.

“Well, Mr. Palmer, shall we find out what our friend down there has to tell us about how he came to such an unfortunate end?”

“Ready if you are, Doctor Mallard.” Jimmy told him.

“Good then, let's go.”

Ducky and Jimmy descended the ravine carefully, joining the other three agents at the bottom and Gibbs followed closely behind.

OOOOOOOOOO

That afternoon, while Foster, McGee and Ziva headed back to the Navy Yard. Gibbs decided to pay Tony a visit in lieu of his usual lunch-time coffee run. Upon entering the room, he found the younger agent had been taken out of the traction and had his thicklt casted legs propped up on pillows instead. With the head of the bed lifted up, he was in a partial sitting position with his back off the bed, looking to be in agony. The television set was on, but Tony wasn't paying much attention to it. To Gibbs, he looked about as miserable as he had ever seen him.

“DiNozzo.” He greeted him and was rewarded with a smile from Tony, even if it was somewhat forced and pain-filled.

“Hey boss.” Tony flipped off the TV and dropped the remote onto the table beside him.

“You need some medicine?” Gibbs asked, seeing how much he appeared to be in pain.

“Nah...I'm good.” Gibbs knew he was lying, but Tony could be a stubborn one sometimes. “Doctor wants me to try sitting up a little now that my legs are down to take some of the pressure off my back and keep the strength up in my muscles, but it tends to make things a little more...uncomfortable.” Tony grimaced.

“How long does he want you to do that?”

“A few minutes every hour to start with, then I can start increasing it to a couple times each hour.”

“How long has it been?” Gibbs gave him a look that told Tony not to lie to him.

“About six minutes.” Tony admitted. A fine sheen of sweat was breaking out over his brow as he pushed himself to remain up-right. In one way, Gibbs was proud of Tony's determination to get better, yet in the back of his head he could hear Ducky's words of warning about pushing him too hard too soon.

“Sounds like your time's up then. Why don't you lay back?” Gibbs suggested in a way that was more of an order.

“I'm fine boss. The longer I can do this, the sooner I can get out of here.”

“I said, lay back.” Gibbs sighed as Tony finally laid back, relief evident on his face. “You're not doing yourself any favors by trying to do more than the doctors tell you to do.”

“Sounds like you've been talking to Ducky.” Tony reasoned with a scowl, grabbing some water from the table and taking a quick swig.

“You should listen to him. He's rarely wrong.” Gibbs wasn't surprised to see Tony sigh in frustration.

“I just don't think I can take much more of this- of just laying here and waiting to get better.” The younger man closed his eyes and shook his head as much as he could while still wearing the neck brace. “God...I can't even sit up without feeling like I'm going to die. I can't stay like this for long. I just can't.”

“Look at me, Tony.” Tony opened his eyes and looked into Gibbs' blue ones. “I'm getting you back on my team and I don't give a damn whether it's sooner or later-no matter how long it takes. So you better listen to what the doctors tell you to do...to the letter...got it?”

“Sure.” Tony responded despondently and looked away. Gibbs knew how it was trying the other man's patience to be so weak when only a week before, he had been in excellent health. Looking back on it, ordering Tony to not die of the plague had been a cakewalk compared to this, but he was confident that despite it all, Tony would listen to him, even if he didn't particularly want to.

“Good...Now quit being a jackass, take your goddamn medicine and get some rest.” Gibbs demanded as he tapped the back of Tony's head, rose from his seat and began to head for the door. “I'll stop by later.”

“Bring me a pizza?” Tony asked just as Gibbs reached for the doorknob, his smile returning slowly. Even if it wasn't the brightest one he had ever seen grace the face of the younger man, it was enough for Gibbs to know that he was getting through.

The former Marine couldn't resist it and returned the smile himself. “Extra cheese, extra pepperoni and sausage, right?.”

“That would be one, boss.”

TBC.......

Chapter 6

After he returned from his visit with Agent DiNozzo, Gibbs went straight down to the morgue to see what the medical examiner had learned thus far during the autopsy of the Marine found in the ravine. As their team leader left instructions for the rest of them to continue working, Foster began to feel as though he was beginning to make some headway not just with the case of their dead Marine, but with his ultimate, personal goals as well.

He had been quite pleased with himself that while collecting evidence at the scene, he found a hunting rifle haphazardly thrown into a copse of trees and he hoped it would prove to be the murder weapon. Foster figured it had to look pretty good to Gibbs that he had been the one to make the discovery that might break the case and after the debacle regarding his desire to interview the witnesses in the field, he feared that he hadn't gotten off to a very good start with his new boss. But, perhaps things might take a turn for the better now and Gibbs wouldn't look at him with such disdain if his discoveries helped to solve the case. In everything he had done in his life so far, Foster had excelled, but not being held in high regard in his new boss' eyes was new and disturbing to him and panicked him more than he cared to admit. He would have to be more than perfect from now on, he reasoned. Failure just wasn't an option. So, he worked diligently to dig up as much information as he could about the weapon before Gibbs returned from the morgue.

While Foster continued to work, Ziva and McGee were at the Mossad officer's desk, talking and sharing a few take-out containers of Chinese food for lunch.

“Hey, Foster, you hungry?” McGee called from the other end of the bullpen just before he stuffed a piece of teriyaki chicken into his mouth.

“Uh...Sure.” He responded hesitantly as he walked away from his work reluctantly and around his cubicle to come and join them. He really wasn't hungry and he'd much rather focus on making sure it was his research that broke the case, but he felt like he had made a connection with Agent McGee earlier that morning when they talked about computers and it couldn't hurt to strengthen that bond. Also, he had yet to get to know Ziva on a personal level as they had only spoken a few words to each other while at the scene and this may be a good opportunity to show her that he was someone she could trust and perhaps even like.

To Foster, there was no denying that Ziva was a beautiful woman and he couldn't help but be attracted to her, but she had made it clear, mostly through her body language, that she preferred to keep her distance from him. He wasn't sure if this was purely out of loyalty to Agent DiNozzo's friendship or if she just didn't care for him. He figured the latter was the least likely since he was, at least in his opinion, a good-looking, fit and attractive guy. In fact, he had no trouble getting dates and many women at least as gorgeous as she had been seduced by his charms, but he had yet to meet any woman that understood him and accepted his need to be the best at all that he did.

The last serious relationship he had was several years ago and that ended when his ex-girlfriend couldn't fathom why he worked so many hours at the office, then spent at least and hour and a half at the gym working out only to return home and continue his work late into the night, leaving little time for her. Since then, he decided it best to just forget about maintaining a relationship until he had at the very least, become a member of a team permanently. They took up too much time and he found that he didn't want the love of a woman as much as he wanted success. Hopefully, he would find that very soon.

As Foster made his way up to Ziva's desk, he realized he had forgotten his chair, so rather than walk back to the other end of the bullpen, he went around to Agent DiNozzo's desk and grabbed the chair from behind it. He noticed the looks McGee and Ziva shot him as he pilfered the desk chair. Damn that man, he hadn't even met him yet and it irritated Foster to no end that he couldn't even borrow his chair without committing some kind of federal offense in the eyes of his fellow co-workers. There had to be a way to get them to realize what a waste of space Agent DiNozzo is-he'd heard all of the gossip and rumors from the secretaries about his sexual exploits and he listened closely to the disdain in the voices of the other agents when they spoke of DiNozzo's flippant attitude and lackadaisical style. He knew he could be ten-times the agent DiNozzo was and he wondered how it was that his teammates were so blind to ever want him back when Foster was there and could be a greater asset to the team than DiNozzo ever was.

“I promise, I'll put it back when I'm done.” He told the other two agents half-jokingly as he lifted the chair out and they both smiled faintly, realizing that they were being a little silly for thinking that the new guy had usurped his territory just because he borrowed their injured teammate's chair.

He pulled the chair in so that the three of them sat in a circle around the desk.

“Here, Agent Foster- You may have the rest of this moo-goo-gai-pan. I am full.” Ziva handed him the half-eaten container of chicken and vegetables and he flashed her one of his most disarming and charming smiles in thanks. She rewarded his efforts with a small one in kind.

“Please, you can call me Aaron.” He insisted.

“Alright...Aaron....I like that name” She added. “It is Hebrew.”

“I'm a quarter Jewish, I'm named after a great uncle of my mother's.”

“Really? Atah medaber ivrit?” She asked in her native tongue.

“Ani koreh ivrit, aval lo medaber.” He responded.

“Sounds like you speak Hebrew pretty well to me.” She came back with a sideways grin.

“I can only speak a few words of it.” He added and she nodded, her eyes finally making contact with his. He hoped she could see how beautiful he thought she was through his eyes.

McGee watched the two in confusion then cleared his throat as if to remind them that he was still in the room.

“Sorry, McGee. I just asked him if he spoke Hebrew.” Ziva informed him, breaking their eye contact.

“And I told her that I read it, but I don't speak it.” They exchanged a grin at each other and Foster began to feel like he was finally connecting with Ziva. They weren't friends yet, but it was a start.

As the three of them surrounded Ziva's desk and ate, they began discussing the particulars of the case, pooling together what they had each found so far in their investigation so they would all have something to show Gibbs when he returned.

Ziva had seen to investigating the victim's background and found that Sgt. Eric Nelson had been assigned to the Marine Base at Quantico two years ago and served as a Drill Instructor there. He was unmarried, but according to his fellow colleagues, he was seeing a woman named Jennifer O'Conner, who worked as a bartender at the base club. However, she failed to show up to work the evening before, heightening the suspicion that she may have something to do with the Marine's death or have information regarding it. Ziva issued a BOLO for the woman across town and figured that either way, a trip to her apartment would be in order once Gibbs got back to the bullpen and they had filled him in.

McGee had also been busy tracking Nelson's financial and phone records. Nothing in particular stood out in his bank accounts, but several calls had been placed to Jennifer O'Conner's cell phone the night prior to his death. However, the records also indicated that the first call to initiate contact between the two had come from her.

“You find anything on the weapon you found?” McGee asked Foster.

“Well, the serial number on the gun is registered to a man named James Patrick Garvey. It's not reported as stolen, but records have him listed as deceased six months ago.” Foster informed Ziva and McGee

“Did you check with family members?” McGee asked. “Sometimes these kind of rifles are handed down and never re-registered with the new owners after someone passes away.”

“Yeah, I did and the only person listed as next of kin is a cousin that lives in Detroit and he hasn't left Michigan in years.” Foster sighed. So far, his find had taken him almost nowhere.

“How about his neighbors?” Ziva asked. “Perhaps one of them has seen the weapon before or knew who may have been in possession of it or perhaps it was stolen and just never reported.”

“Yeah, I thought of that too. He lived outside of Remington, VA- I was checking for neighbors just a moment ago and hopefully, being a small town, someone might have more information about who Garvey might have given the gun or who had it last.”

“Well, I guess that's something.” McGee agreed. “You better get back on that before Gibbs returns”

“Hopefully, Abby can tell us if that rifle was the one that killed the Sergeant soon.” Foster added with a nod in agreement.

Eventually, an end came to their working lunch break and as they wrapped up their little pow-wow and tossed their lunch containers into the trash.

“You know what this almost reminds me of, McGee?” Ziva asked somewhat wistfully.

“You're gonna say 'campfire', aren't you?” He asked in reply with a little knowing smile.

“Campfire?” Foster asked.

“It's a Tony thing.” McGee explained to the confused agent and again, Foster felt like an outsider looking in.

“When he was lead agent, he used make us get together in a little circle like this and brainstorm.. I have to admit, I hated them at the time, mostly because Tony was such a....well, I won't say it, but they were surprisingly effective and now I kinda miss it.” The acting senior field agent continued.

“Me too.” Ziva added, her eyes roving to the empty desk across from hers and Aaron knew it was more than just these 'campfires' they missed, but their friend as well. Aaron felt the shoes he was trying to fill grow even bigger and it made his blood boil with jealousy. He still had quite a bit of work to do if he was going to find himself in a position where he was as invaluable to the team as they believed agent DiNozzo to be and even more if he was to become as apparently well liked.

OOOOOOO

After detaching Marine Sgt. Nelson's heart from the veins and arteries that connected it to the rest of his body, Ducky carefully extracted it from the young man's chest cavity and handed it off to Palmer who placed it onto the scale and called out the weight to the medical examiner before noting it into the medical record.

Closely studying the powerful and muscular organ after removing it from the scale, the doctor found no disease or signs that there was anything congenitally wrong with the valves, veins or arteries. It was a perfectly unremarkable and healthy heart and should have kept beating and performing the function of delivering blood throughout the body of their victim for years and years to come- except for the little fact that a bullet was lodged in its left ventricle.

Carefully making an incision into the area where the x-ray image showed the bullet to be, Ducky used a pair of forceps to reach into the small hole and pull out the projectile.

“Is that what killed him, Duck?” Ducky looked up just as the doors closed behind his oldest friend and he strode into the morgue, pointing to the bullet the doctor still held in between the forceps.

“Hmmm. I should say so- One shot, one kill.” Ducky mused as he dropped the small, but deadly round into a metal container with a tinny clang then handed it off to Palmer so he could bag it up and take it to Abby for analysis.

“Anything else?” Gibbs asked and Ducky turned back to the body.

“I found nothing to suggest that this young man died of anything other than a lethal shot to the heart. His death would have been very quick, almost instantaneous.”

“What about all of these scrapes and cuts?” Gibbs pointed to the face and arms where the majority of the wounds occurred on the body.

“Actually, those were all caused after death and given the lack of blood surrounding the body at the scene that one would expect from such a devastating injury, I would venture to guess that our victim was not killed where he was found, but was perhaps tossed from the side of the road, then rolled down the ravine, hitting tree branches and rocks along the way to the bottom, causing the post-mortem injuries you see here.”

Gibbs nodded, he had come to that conclusion already at the scene. He had seen many a murder in his days with NCIS and he knew a body dump when he saw one. Just one thing still tugged at his gut and set it in motion.

“Somethings troubles you, Jethro?” Ducky asked.

“Yeah...The rifle. Thrown out at the same time as the body where it could be easily found? Whoever did this wanted it to be found along with Sgt. Nelson.”

“Indeed, that is peculiar.” Ducky agreed. “most criminals would tend to want to hide the murder weapon, toss it in a body of water or destroy it as it might connect them to the crime. But in this case, assuming that the rifle is the murder weapon, it is as though they practically handed it over.”

Gibbs nodded as he thought and Ducky caught sight of the gears turning in his friend's head.

“What are you thinking, Jethro? That it is some sort of.... red herring meant to throw you off the trail?”

“I don't know yet. We'll just have to see what Abby says about it.”

Gibbs made to leave and headed for the door, but not before Ducky called out to him.

“Jethro....” Ducky walked up to him, closing the distance between them in just a few of his short strides. “I spoke with Anthony's doctor this morning as I am listed as his primary physician and he says that he should be released by the end of the week.”

“Good.”

“Yes, he is doing very well in his recovery, but the doctor is concerned with where he will go after he gets out of the hospital. Anthony lives on the sixth floor of his building and his apartment is anything but handicapped friendly.....”

“Ducky, Tony's not handicapped.”

“Strictly speaking, he is for now. He will be in a wheelchair until his back has healed and his left leg can be taken out of the cast and he can support his weight on it. Then after that, he will need crutches for at least six weeks before he will be allowed to walk on his own and even then he may still require a cane for some time.”

“Is there a point to this?” Gibbs asked.

“Yes. Agent DiNozzo is going to need help when he comes out of hospital and a place where he can easily get around. He'll need someone who can look after him until he can take care of himself, someone to take him to his physical therapy appointments and make sure he is following doctor's orders. However, I fear that Anthony's doctor took it upon himself to inform his father of what has transpired and learned quite quickly that he has no family that is willing to take up the mantle of Anthony's continued care.....” Ducky saw the muscles in Gibbs jaw clench as he ground his molars together upon hearing about Tony's father and his refusal to help his own son.

“He doesn't need that lousy family of his, Ducky....” Gibbs interrupted. “I'll do it.”

“It is quite the commitment, Jethro...I was simply going to suggest we consider a rehabilitation facility or a nurse...”

“I said” Gibbs glared intensely at Ducky “I'll do it.”

Ducky smiled and clasped Gibbs' shoulder.

“That's what I was hoping you would say.”

OOOOOOOOOO

“Good-morning, Mr. DiNozzo.” Lisa, the pretty blond, pony-tailed nurse that Tony had come to associate with his breakfast and sponge baths, walked in carrying a meal tray and set it on the table before rolling it over and bringing it up next to him. Tony used the button on the side of his bed to raise the back of the bed and bring him to a seated position.

“Good-morning yourself, Lisa. " He greeted in kind. "But please,call me Tony. You help me with a bed pan every morning and if that doesn't make us friends by now, then I don't know what will.” He smiled as charmingly as he could muster despite the discomfort sitting up caused him and she grinned back.

“Alright...Tony.” She lifted the cover off the tray and revealed a pair of unappetizing, rubbery eggs accompanied by some burnt bacon and dry wheat toast. “breakfast is served.” She beamed at him.

“Mmmmm, looks....yummy.” He frowned as he poked at the institutional food. “Any chance I can get some coffee?” He asked hopefully, turning green eyes her way.

“Sorry, it's not on your diet orders.”

“C'mon.” he winked “One little cup isn't going to kill me.”

She made a hesitant face and he could see that she was torn between pleasing him and going against doctor's orders. He raised his eyebrows and pulled out his best puppy-dog eyes that no woman could resist... well, almost all women- except Ziva of course, but she didn't count.

Finally, he saw the tide turn in his favor and she sighed in defeat-victory was his.

“Alright, fine. But just one cup and no more, got it?”

“You're an angel, know that?” He turned up the charm and batted his eyes.

“And you're the devil.” She shot back. “You're gonna get me in trouble if you don't watch it.”

“Promise not to tell.” He crossed his heart.

“Better not. Just remember who it is that changes that catheter of yours.” She pointed to the Foley location and at her serious face, he dropped his smile and gulped audibly.

“Yes, ma'am. My lips are sealed.”

“Alright, be right back.” She left the room and Tony called out to her backside before she left , “Don't forget sugar and cream.”

She just shook her head without turning around and exited the room, but Tony could tell she was smiling to herself, even though her back was turned to him. Tony picked again at his food after she was out of sight, but did not really care for much of what was on his plate. A minute later Lisa was back with a steaming hot cup of coffee, it wasn't very big, but it did have cream and sugar, for which he smiled gratefully.

“Bless you.” He told her as she set the cup down on his table.

“De nada.” She replied. “Oh....this came in for you.” She pulled out an envelope from her scrub top pocket, most likely yet another get-well card from someone at headquarters. She set it on the table for him to open when he was ready.

"Thanks, Lisa." He told her.

“I'll be back in a little while. Call me if you need anything.” Tony nodded and waved as she turned and left the room, leaving Tony alone.

He gave up on trying to eat his meal and focused on the coffee, savoring its flavor as he knew he wouldn't be able to get away this later when the shift change occurred and Lisa was replaced with Dan, his male night nurse or was that murse?.

Tony laughed internally at the dozens of male nurse jokes that ran through his head right then.

Suddenly growing curious about the card sitting on the table and wondering who it was from, Tony reached for it, but froze as soon as he saw the return address.

He stared at the envelope for a long time before finally deciding to quit being such as pussy and open the envelope, pulling out the card inside.

Tony read the card about five times while absentmindedly folding the corner of it back and forth until it broke off. He looked at the front of it again. 'Get Well Soon.' was written in flowing script just above a picture displaying a bouquet of sunflowers. He knows me so well. He thought sarcastically of the cheap $.99 card and tossed it onto the side table next to him.

He should have thrown it away, but somehow, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. After all, the last time he received a card like this, he had nearly died of the plague and for some reason he couldn't quite explain, he had held onto that card as well, even keeping it in a drawer in his home where it still sat today.

It was just a stupid card, he told himself. He knew it most likely wasn't even from him personally, so why did it cause so much turmoil inside? In fact, it probably wasn't even signed by the old man himself, he most likely just had his newest secretary send it as an afterthought when he learned his only son had nearly died and then had proceeded to forget him all over again before heading into his next business meeting.

Maybe what hurt the most was the fact that his father had remembered that he still had a son yet chose to send a crappy piece a paper filled with empty sentiments in poem form with weak rhymes instead of actually seeing him or calling- it showed just how much or how little he cared for his own flesh and blood by sending it and he had to admit that he would have been better off if he had done nothing at all.

Sighing, he leaned his head back on his pillow then caught sight of the balloons Abby brought him that she had carefully chosen as they flopped and bounced around above his head. He smiled and was reminded of that despite everything, he had friends who cared. McGee had brought him some new games for his PSP, Ziva dropped off a giant stack of movies the other night and had even stayed to watch one with him, Ducky gave him a book, which he didn't plan on actually reading, but it was the thought that counted and half the secretarial pool had sent him flowers, filling up nearly every flat surface in his hospital room. Gibbs hadn't brought anything but pizza, however he couldn't think of a more appropriate gift to receive from his usually reserved and stoic boss.

When he thought about it, his friends were closer to him than any of his actual family members and they certainly cared way more, but there was still that gaping hole in his heart when he contemplated what it meant to have a father's love. It was something he hadn't felt in very, very long time; not since before his mother died and he feared that the gap between the two of them had widened too far to be bridged any longer.

For all intents and purposes he was more than just cut off from his father's money, but from his love as well and he tried rather convincingly over the years to fool himself into believing that he didn't need or want that sort of affection from him anymore, that he was doing just fine without it. But lying in a hospital room with nowhere to go and nothing to do but think, brought that former confidence crashing down.

Now, as he chanced another glance at that damned card with its fugly sunflowers, he wasn't so sure he was all that fine without it after all.

TBC....

Chapter 7

Alone in her lab, Abby cheerfully bounced to the music blaring from her stereo, her pigtails swaying from side to side to the beat. While waiting for the Mass Spectrometer to finish analyzing some fibers found on Sgt. Nelson's clothing, she went over to her newly dubbed 'Wall of Tony' shrine and taped a new picture up that she had found earlier at the bottom of a drawer. It was from a couple of years ago and Ziva or McGee must had taken it at a crime scene as it looked as though he had been taken by surprise as it captured him bending over and looking behind.

After applying it to the wall she leaned in and gave the picture of Tony a kiss, even though she realized rather belatedly that she was mostly kissing a picture of his backside. Oh well, she loved that part of him too.

Over the music, Abby barely heard the ping from her 'baby' that let her know it was done analyzing the sample she had given it. She knew then that it was only a matter of moments before....

“What you got for me Abbs?” Right on time, she thought to herself. Gibbs was getting a little too predictable, but that's what she loved most about the man; he was a rock, never changing, always solid. He was in a word : Gibbs.

“What?..no 'good-afternoon Abbs'?...no 'how was your bowling tournament last night?' which, by the way, we won and I scored over a 200 for the first time....”

“Abby-” Gibbs stopped her and she smiled brightly as a Caf-Pow! was promptly thrust into her hands and she took a sip of her favorite beverage. “Good-Afternoon.”

“Afternoon to you too, Gibbs.” She beamed.

“Well?” He asked expectantly. “You got something for me?”

“Oh yeah....The bullet that killed Sgt. Nelson was definitely fired from this rifle.” She pointed to the black hunting rifle on the table. “It's been wiped clean. No prints that I could find on the outside...but they forgot a spot....” Abby slid back the bolt and pulled it out, showing it to Gibbs. “I found a fingerprint on the bolt, looks like they forgot to clean the inside of the rifle when they cleaned the outside.”

“So who does it belong to?” He asked

“Patience, patience, Gibbs....I just entered it into the database a couple of minutes ago, the search may take some time, but hopefully we'll get a hit soon.”

“What else?”

“Oh, yeah....let's see what Major Mass Spec has finished cooking for me, shall we?” She went to the machine, grabbed the readout and frowned.

“What is it?” Gibbs asked

“Ack!....It's just your ordinary synthetic, polyester carpet fibers you would find in just about every car in the US.” She stated, a little disappointed that the evidence didn't come up with anything more revealing than the marine had most likely been in contact with the inside of a car.

“Anything else?” Gibbs asked and Abby reanimated, practically skipping to her computer to show Gibbs the last piece of evidence she had found.

“Besides the carpet fibers, I found a ton of dog hairs on Sgt. Nelson's clothes- all different kinds of them, but interestingly enough, the majority of them come from a rather rare breed of dog; the Irish Wolf hound...Also the tallest breed of dog I might add....They practically come up to your chest they're so big....Speaking of big dogs, my uncle Joe had a Mastiff once, but....”

“Abby...” Gibbs interrupted before she could go on for too long.

“Right...sorry.” She grinned sheepishly. “Anyway, it shouldn't be too hard to come up with a short list of people in the area that own one of those dogs.” she added.

“Good job, Abbs.” Gibbs rewarded her hard work with a smile and her chest filled with pride. All she needed was to see that smile and the rest of her day was made, but she demanded more and pointed to her cheek. Gibbs obliged and planted a small peck to the cheek then headed for the door.

“Wait, wait, Gibbs.” Abby called out and he turned around.

“You have something else, Abby?”

“Well no...I don't have anything else evidence wise, but did you get to see Tony yet today?”

“I just got back a little while ago, why?”

“How did he seem to you?” She asked wringing her hands together.

“Fine.”

“Really? 'Cause when I talked to him a little while ago, he seemed a little down and he only flirted with me once over the phone, so something is definitely wrong with him.”

“Yeah, Abbs. He fell from a third story balcony, that's what's wrong with him.”

“Well, duh, Gibbs, I know that... I mean other than that....he just seemed a little depressed...not like boo-hoo depressed or anything like that, but not himself, you know? Like he was distracted or something.”

“He just needs some time to get used to the idea of being laid up for a while. Don't worry, I'm bringing him some pizza later; he'll be fine, Abby.”

“Oh Gibbs, you can't solve everything that's wrong with Tony by giving him pizza.”

“No, but with DiNozzo, it's usually a good start.” Abby had to concede that point and she threw her hands up in defeat.

“It just seemed a little hinky that's all.” She kept it up, her fears for her friend not at all allayed by Gibbs's confidence that Tony was just fine. “Something in his voice just made me want to reach over the phone lines and give him a hug and squish him, you know?”

“Why don't you come with me later, then.”

“I will....I just wish I could go over there right now...He has to be so lonely...You know how needy Tony is for attention.”

“I'm sure he's getting plenty from the nurses.” Gibbs tried to reassure her.

Abby had to perk up a little at that thought and just imagining her Tony giving the hospital staff a run for their money had her smiling a bit and gave her the wherewithal to believe that he would be alright until she could see that evening after work.

With Tony still on her mind she was reminded of something else that has been bugging her all morning and she felt the need to breech the subject to Gibbs before it drove her any crazier.

“Oh...and another thing, Gibbs.” She started, narrowing her eyes. “ We need to talk about Agent Foster.”

“What about him?” Gibbs asked.

“I'm not sure I like him too much. He came down here with that rifle this morning and was acting like he was Mr. Perfect just because he found the damn thing. Then to top it all off, he was trying way too hard to impress me-which is just a big turn off in my book.”

“You don't have to like him, you just have to put up with him for a while. You probably just don't like him because he's not Tony.”

“I know, but still...he gives me a weird feeling inside....kinda like Chip did- and if you recall, he tried to frame Tony for murder.”

“Just because someone gives you a bad feeling doesn't mean that they have some sort of nefarious scheme going on.” Gibbs sighed as he spoke.

Abby bored her eyes into Gibbs', looking deep into their blue depths. She was possibly the only person besides Ducky, that dared to have a staring contest with him. However, she felt confident that even though he kept his feelings closely guarded, she could still read him like an open book.

“You're just saying that because you get the same feeling too, don't you?” She pointed out to him. “But you can't do anything about it because he hasn't done anything wrong, right?”

Gibbs just shook his head and didn't answer her question, heading for the door.

“Call me if you get a hit on that fingerprint, Abbs.” He called out as he disappeared around the corner.

“Thought so.” Abby muttered smugly to herself, knowing that she was spot on.

OOOOOOO

Ziva watched Gibbs stroll into the bullpen with a purpose and stop in front of his desk. She was on her feet immediately, heading in his direction and joined by McGee simultaneously so they could update him on what they had gathered so far on the Nelson case.

Foster remained at his seat, at the far end, his view obscured by the cubicle wall, making him oblivious to the fact that Gibbs had just walked in and was expecting to be given a situation report..

“You gonna join us someday, Foster?” Gibbs called out to the absent agent.

Foster's head peered around the cubicle and he jumped into action.

“Oh...Sorry, Agent Gibbs.” Foster took one look at the glare Gibbs sent his way and back-pedalled suddenly remembering the rule about apologizing. “I mean...coming.” He hurried over and joined the rest of them.

“What have we got?” Gibbs asked the team, but focused mainly on McGee, who was in possession of the remote for the plasma. Tim turned to the screen and called up several photos. The first being the driver's license picture of a blue-eyed and curly, blond-headed, Jennifer O'Conner.

“This is Jennifer O'Conner, girlfriend of our victim, Sgt. Nelson.” McGee pulled up a service photo of the dead marine. “Friends say the two have been dating off and on for the last year and have had a bit of a rocky relationship, but were currently still seeing each other. No one has seen or heard from Ms. O'Conner in the last two days, she didn't show up to the bar she works at last night. There's no answer on her cell, but we know she did contact Sgt. Nelson the night he was killed.”

“Police have been alerted to be on the look out for her, but we have nor heard anything yet.” Ziva jumped in. “However, she has an apartment near Quantico we could search.”

"Get a Warrant." Gibbs ordered Ziva and she nodded in agreement going back to the phone on her desk.

“What did you find on that weapon?” Gibbs turned to Foster who gestured to McGee for the plasma remote and brought up another driver's license picture, this one of a long-haired, middle-aged man.

“It was registered to a James Patrick Garvey from Remington, VA. However, he was killed six months ago in a motor vehicle accident. His property and all of his possessions were auctioned last month to pay debts from a failed business venture, but there is no record of the rifle being sold by the auction company. His only living relative lives in Michigan and hadn't had contact with Garvey in several years, so he either gave the rifle to someone he knew and it was never registered again or it was stolen and never reported. I tried speaking with some of his neighbors, but none of them claim to know anything about the rifle.”

“Of course not.” Gibbs groused then turned to Tim. “Abby found some dog hairs on the Sgt's clothes from some rare breed called an Irish Wolf hound, McGee-”

“On it boss, I 'll check all of the vet clinics in the area and find out who might own one of those.” McGee was already in motion going to his computer to begin his search while Gibbs called out to Ziva and Foster.

“Once you get that warrant, you two go to the girlfriend's apartment and call me if you find anything.”

“Yes, Gibbs.” Foster and Ziva replied in unison and seconds after Ziva had the warrant in her hands they moved to collect their things and headed for the elevator.

Ziva drove and the two of them made it to Jennifer O'Conner's apartment complex more or less intact. She may have hit a few curbs, sped a tad too much and Foster looked a little green around the gills from Ziva's rather aggressive driving, but he still smiled at her when they made it to their destination, albeit weakly.

“I bet you're never late for anything.” He joked.

“Of course not. In Mossad we are trained to be punctual. But, you did well; Tony threw-up the first he rode with me driving.”

“Well, that might still happen.” He grimaced, holding his stomach. Ziva just smiled as she led them into the building and to Jennifer O'Conner's door. She knocked and announced themselves, but received no answer. Feeling a wave of deja vu from the last time she had to enter an apartment looking for someone, she couldn't help but have those memories of Tony fighting, falling, and then laying broken on the ground come rushing back to her. As she picked the lock, she vowed to not let something like that happen again and she turned her senses onto full alert. Turning behind to Foster, she pulled out her Sig and whispered.

“Stay close to me, do not go off on your own until we have cleared the entire apartment, understood?”

“Got it.” He answered with a nod and took out his own gun.

Ziva turned the knob slowly and quietly before swiftly opening the door and scanning the room with her weapon gripped in her outstretched hands, ready for anything or anyone. She immediately noticed the blood soaked into the plush carpet and Foster made a little choked noise in his throat in surprise upon catching sight of it. But, Ziva wasn't going to let it faze her until she was certain that they were indeed alone in the place.

Foster was right behind her as they first cleared the living room then the kitchen, bedrooms, bathrooms and closets. Ziva even took care to check under the bed before she felt confident that the apartment was indeed empty and no one was going to surprise them this time around.

When she finally felt she could relax a bit, she went back into the living room with Foster and whipped out her phone to call Gibbs and let him know what they found and that they were going to need the truck. They had a lot of work to do.

OOOOOOOOOO

After recieving Ziva's call, Gibbs and McGee abandoned the task of tracking down Irish Wolf hound owners for the time being as it was getting them nowhere fast and drove the van down to Jennifer O'Conner's apartment to help process the scene, gather the evidence there and bring it back to headquarters for testing.

Judging by the amount of blood on the floor at the scene it was clear that someone had been murdered or at the very least seriously injured there. A blood test would be needed before they were sure it belonged to Sgt. Nelson or not, but without another body at the apartment, all signs were pointing to it being the spot where Sgt. Nelson had been killed before he was dumped into the ravine.

Upon their return to the Navy Yard, Gibbs charged Foster with delivering the evidence to Abby's lab while the others returned to the bullpen to continue the investigation from there.

Clutching the box of evidence that still needed testing, Foster walked into the lab, finding the goth scientist studying her computer screen intensely as fingerprints flashed by, searching for a match. Music was blasting from her speakers and she sucked continuously from a gigantic cup of what he could only make out as some sort of energy drink. Judging from the way she practically bounced around, she probably was not on her first one for the day.

“C'mon, baby....mama needs a match...c'mon...c'mon” She spoke to her computer, as though she could urge it to search faster.

Foster cleared his throat as he walked in and Abby spun around. He didn't miss the look of mistrust and barely contained resentment towards him as she looked at him. He felt it earlier when he delivered the rifle and the other evidence from the ravine to her that morning and he had tried his best to get her on his side then, but she wasn't easily swayed by his charms, something he wasn't completely used to when it came to women. He usually won people over quickly, but she was a different case.

“Oh, it's you.” She half-heartedly greeted him.

“I have some more evidence for you.”

“Just put it on the table.” He did as he was instructed and Abby came over to examine the contents without even so much as a glance in his direction.

“You can go now.” She dismissed him without even looking up.

“Have I done something to offend you, Ms. Scuito?” he asked.

“Nope.” Was all she answered.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope.” She continued to avoid any kind of eye contact. He sighed, then looking up and behind Abby, Foster caught sight of the computer screen and smiled.

“Looks like you found something.” He pointed out for her. She turned around and saw that the computer had indeed found a match.

“Oh! “ She started excitedly and practically skipped to the computer. “Good job, Baby!” She patted her computer affectionately as though it was a favorite pet. “Let's see who you found.”

Abby barely noticed Foster come up to her side and join her at the computer.

“Hmmm, interesting....” He remarked. Reading the information, he knew he was on to something big and he couldn't help but grin in anticipation as he knew he was going to be the one to solve the case and finally show Gibbs that he indeed was the right choice to placed permanently on the team. He worked quickly, even convincing the goth to help and not fifteen minutes later, Abby was on the phone with Gibbs.

OOOOOOOOOO

While busy reading the information on the case that had been gathered so far by his three agents, Gibbs' desk phone rang.

“Gibbs” He answered.

“It's me.” Abby announced.

“Got something?”

“Yep.” Was her only answer.

“You gonna share, or do I have to guess?”

“The fingerprint on the bolt came back to a Dean Anderson. He applied for a liquor license a couple of years ago for a bar he bought, but it tanked and went out of business about eighteen months ago and get this, that bar was located in Remington, VA and his business partner was none other than James Patrick Garvey, the original owner of the rifle that killed Sgt. Nelson. Anderson's last address is listed as being in Alexandria, but according to his landlord, he moved out suddenly a couple of days ago, left no forwarding address. And another thing....guess what he's been doing for the last year?”

“I'm not in the mood for games, why don't you just tell me, Abbs.”

“You're no fun, Gibbs.” Abby complained and he could almost hear her pouting over the phone.

“Abby...” Gibbs impatiently growled.

“Alright, alright. He's been working as a veterinary assistant at the Best Friends Animal Clinic, in Alexandria. We called over there and found out that they've had an Irish Wolf hound boarding there since last Tuesday, same color fur as the ones that I found on Nelson's clothing. Now, because of it's large size, Anderson has been the only one working with it since the dog is rather stubborn and he's the strongest assistant. However, he hasn't been to work in two days and they're pretty hoppin' mad that he hasn't been around to help. Anyway, we also found out from one of the receptionists that Anderson's been bragging about meeting his girlfriend that weekend and he has mentioned that her name was Jennifer. ”

“We, Abbs? Is Foster still down there?”

“Actually, it was Agent Foster who found the connection between Anderson and the vet clinic.”

“Oh? Changing your mind about him?”

“No, not even a little...If anything that hinky feeling's just stronger. He kinda took over when I got a hit on the fingerprint, which was really annoying in and of itself and sure, he's good and we found a break in the case, but he's just....I don't know....I just don't trust him yet and I can't put my finger on it...Anyway, I kicked him out of my lab, so he's on his way back up to you now.”

“Alright, Abbs...you did good.”

Gibbs hung up the phone just as Foster came out of the elevator, his face flush with eagerness and pride. He had to hand it to the kid, he had done pretty well for his first field case in finding the murder weapon and the connection between it and their now prime suspect. However, they still needed to find the guy and Jennifer O'Conner, who was still missing and possibly in danger.

“Boss...” McGee called out from his desk. “You should see this...”

Gibbs was up and looking over McGee's shoulder a moment later as the younger agent began to explain what he found. Both curious, Foster and Ziva joined them.

“Tax records show Jennifer O'Conner worked as a waitress at the bar in Remington owned by James Garvey until the business folded and she began working on-base at Quantico.”

“Same bar co-owned by Anderson, whose prints were on the bolt of the weapon used to kill Sgt. Nelson.” Gibbs added.

“Question is where he would go now.” Ziva mused.

“Well, He's still the owner of that bar, even though it's not in business.. Maybe he's hiding out there.” Foster suggested. “Perhaps he and Jennifer had been dating and he found out that she was seeing Sgt. Nelson on the side. He gets angry, kills Nelson, dumps the body and the gun, then takes off with her.”

“Or he's already killed her and has disappeared, but it's worth a trip out there to find out-Gear up everyone.” Gibbs ordered, already in motion for his desk and the others sprang into action as well, gathering their weapons and gear and following their leader to the elevator.

OOOOOOOOOO

“......So, we find the guy has barricaded himself in this old bar. He had gone completely off the deep end when he found out his girlfriend had been cheating on him with the Marine, so he lured Sgt. Nelson to the girlfriend's apartment by coercing her at gun point to call him and invite him over. Once the Marine came through the door, he killed him with his partner's old hunting rifle that had been kept in the bar for protection. Then he kidnapped her and was planning on keeping her locked up in the bar where he could keep her within his sights at all times. Of course, he held her hostage for about an hour before Gibbs talked him into releasing her ans after we caught him, Gibbs got him to confess everything. The girl is safe now and didn't get hurt, but you should have heard her cussing him out as we loaded him into the car...."

Tony half-listened as McGee recounted the events of that afternoon, sighing a bit as McGee kept talking.

“The ironic and funny thing is that Anderson tossed out the rifle thinking that it would pin the murder on his ex-partner, with whom he had a falling out over some debts they owed after their bar closed, but he hadn't talked to the guy in so long that he didn't know that his partner died in a car accident six months ago. So ultimately, he practically gave us the murder weapon with his fingerprint on the inside and ended up actually framing himself....” McGee chuckled.

Tony yawned.

“You done yet, Probie?” He asked.

“Well, you asked.....”

“I asked how your day was, a simple question that usually only requires a simple answer like 'fine', 'Okay' or 'craptacular' not a twenty minute monologue detailing ever single thing that happened over the course of the entire day. Next thing you know you're going to be telling me what you ate for breakfast and how many times you had to use the little scout's room.”

“Sorry, it was just an interesting case, that's all. Thought you would like to hear about what's going on at work.”

“Maybe I don't want to hear about work right now” Tony shot back testily.

“Sorry...I just...” McGee stammered. Seeing concern light up his teammate's face, Tony waved it off hastily.

“Just forget it.....” He didn't want any of McGee's pity. That would just be too awkward and uncomfortable, he'd rather things be normal between them where Tony picks on McGee and McGee can't bring himself to fight back with anything more than an eyeroll because he was raised to be too much of a caring person.

“So, how did the new probie do?” Tony had to ask, changing the subject, even if he really didn't want to know, it was better than hearing about cases when he couldn't participate in them. Secretly, he kinda hoped the guy had fallen on his face, but knowing his luck lately, he probably made Tony look like a bumbling schmuck by comparison.

“Foster? Well, he pissed off Gibbs at first this morning.” Tony had to grin a little bit at that; maybe his luck was turning. “But then he found the murder weapon, made the connection between it and Anderson, plus I found out he's pretty good with computers and he spoke Hebrew to Ziva....” Then again....

“He spoke Hebrew to Ziva?” Tony's mind was beginning to spin- some odd part of him hoped that Hebrew didn't have the same magic over women that speaking Italian did.

“Do you think she likes him?” He asked more than a little concerned about that and maybe just a little bit jealous...no, he couldn't be jealous. If he was, that would imply that he had feelings for Ziva that went beond the platonic level, which he most definitely did not. Okay...maybe their had been more than just a few dreams...but hell he was a guy and she was a beautiful woman... it was only natural, right?

“I don't know, but she doesn't seem too taken with him.” Tony was surprised by how relieved he was.

“What about Gibbs? Do you think he likes him?”

“I don't even know if Gibbs likes me.” Tim frowned. “You know how he is.”

“What about you?

“Well, um...he's okay....I guess.” McGee stammered.

“What are you saying McGee? You like him or not?”

McGee made a face that explained a lot to Tony and shrugged.

“You do....Don't you?” Tony accused him. “You like him better than me?” Tony asked him point blank. “It's okay, McGoo you can tell me the truth.”

“That's hardly fair, Tony. I've only known him for a day whereas, I've had about five years to come to dislike you.” McGee kidded. “But seriously, I don't like him any more than you... you just have...sides to your personality that are more....more...easy to get along with than others.”

“Gee, thanks a lot McBackstabber. You sure know how to brighten the spirits of the injured.”

“Uh, the name calling side of you would not be one of those sides of your personality I prefer.”

“Just don't tell me he's sitting at my desk or using my stuff, Probie”

“Don't worry, Tony. Gibbs wouldn't let him- I won't either.” McGee reassured him.

“ Better not. Some of those things can't be replaced.”

"You mean like your GSM magazines?"

"Oh...my magazines!Man I miss them."

"I'll bring them to you next time I stop by."

"Really? You'd do that for me, Probie?"

"Sure, what are friends for but to deliver dog-eared magazines filled with nearly naked women."

It was then that the delightful scent of hot pizza wafted into the room followed a moment later by a Gibbs and an Abby.

“Hey, McGee.” Gibbs snarled as he walked in. “Don't you have a report to write?”

To others, the entrance of Gibbs might seem somewhat daunting and maybe more than just a bit frightening, but to Tony it was the highlight of the day and he couldn't help but turn on that smile, even if his thoughts were on things that were out of his control, like the constant pain, T.A.D. Agents or even fathers...

“Uh, yeah, Boss...I was just stopping over real quick on my way to pick up take out for everyone.” McGee explained.

“I'd hurry if I were you, McGee.” Tony suggested. “You know how cranky Ziva gets when she's hungry and you don't want to be responsible for any knife attacks in the office before you get back.”

“Yeah, I better go...” McGee got up and tapped Tony on the shoulder with a half-smile. It was a little gesture, but one that spoke volumes of support to the laid up special agent. “See ya later, Tony.”

Tony just waved, but never really got a chance to actually say the words 'Good-bye' to McGee before Abby came bounding into the room and smothered Tony in a giant hug. Gibbs just sat the pizza onto the wheeled table, moving it up to within Tony's sight, but he couldn't quite reach it with Abby practically sitting on him.

“Oh, Tony...You okay?”

“Yeah, Abbs, I'm fine. Something wrong with you?”

“No...You just sounded so sad earlier...I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I'm good, Abby...But I won't be for long if you keep trying to squeeze the life out of me.”

Abby pulled back and looked into Tony's eyes. He knew she was the best at reading people, maybe even better at it than Gibbs. She would be able to tell he was lying, that there was a lot on his mind, but he just didn't feel much like talking about his feelings around anyone, much less when his boss was in the room.

She just gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he gave her a smile, she didn't press the issue any further, but it was comforting to know she was worried about him and that she cared and loved him like brother.

However, the truth was he hadn't been able to get thoughts of his father out of his head all day, no matter what movie he watched or video game he played to distract himself from them, his eyes always wandered to the card his father sent until he couldn't stand it any longer and threw it into the trash can. That made him feel marginally better for a while, but then McGee came to visit.

He would never admit that he actually enjoyed having his geeky teammate visit, but the guy was too much fun to pick on. However, as he told Tony the story about the case they solved that day, it just made his heart grow heavy as he hadn't been there for any of it. Then, when he came to find out that a great deal of the case was solved because of Agent Foster and that did little to help keep those feelings of inadequacy and hopelessness from creeping up and taking over.

Gibbs took a seat and they all ate pizza and chatted for a while about nothing important with Abby doing the majority of the talking. Tony was relieved to hear that Abby didn't like Agent Foster much and he wasn't surprised that Gibbs kept his opinion on the man to himself. After about an hour, there was only one slice of pizza left and Tony was getting sleepy after another round of painkillers were pumped into his system. Before Gibbs could say good-night, Tony was already asleep.

Abby didn't want to leave Tony when Gibbs decided he needed to go back to headquarters and finish his own report on the case that day , so she promised the former Marine before he left that she would be able to find a cab ride home. After he had gone, she attempted to just slide in next to Tony on the bed, but there wasn't enough room for her and he was too far into the clutches of Morpheus to make him scootch over, so she made do with just sitting in the chair next to his bed and watching him sleep while gently running her fingers through his spiky hair.

When she began to feel herself slipping into exhaustion herself and the effects of the three caf-pows! plus two Red Bulls she had that afternoon wore off, she knew it was time to leave and go home to her coffin. She gave Tony a quick peck on the cheek and promised to be back the next day to his sleeping form. He gave a little grunt in response, but went right on sleeping seconds later.

Abby stood up from the chair and stretched out her creaky joints and sore muscles that were cramped from sitting for too long in one position. It was then that she spotted the yellow card sticking out of the trash can. Curious as to why one of Tony's cards ended up in the waste basket, and thinking that it must have landed in there on accident, she bent down and reached for it. It had some hideous sunflowers on it and looked like any of the other generic get-well cards that Tony has received and she was simply going put it back with the other cards stacked up on the side table, but once again the curiosity that made her such a good forensic scientist got the better of her and she peeked inside of it.

“Oh, Tony.” She whispered, looking back at her friend as he slpet peacefully, understanding now why he had been so quiet and distracted earlier. He had hidden it well from Gibbs, but she knew when he wasn't being himself. She also knew that he must have thrown the card away, but she decided to keep it and placed it into her handbag.

She would have to show it to Gibbs and make him understand what Tony needed from him and make him see that the younger man required more than just physical rehabilitation...he had a lot of less obvious wounds that cried out for healing just as loudly. She just hoped that Gibbs would listen.

TBC.....

Chapter 8

Running his hands along the wood of the Kelly, Gibbs felt for rough spots that still required a few more rubs with the sandpaper before painting and smoothed out the minute imperfections that his experienced fingers found.

Whether she ever floated or not didn't really matter to him. In fact, his previous boats never even touched water, but it was the slow process of starting from a pile of timbers and creating a nearly living and breathing object that was so satisfying and very soon, he was beginning to realize lately, he would be finished with her. The thought made him sigh a little, what would he do after she was complete?

This boat had been his mental salvation for nearly five years and it saddened him a little to think that he might not have her to come home to work on anymore when she was done. Sure, any psychologist would say that his boat was just a coping mechanism and that he was using it as an escape from the thoughts, regrets and guilt that plagued him and kept him from otherwise sleeping peacefully. But he didn't care, the effort he put into her creation had been more therapeutic to him than any shrink ever could be, especially after his short-lived retirement to Mexico and the painful memories of Shannon and Kelly that had resurfaced then. Without his boat, he knew he would have gone completely off the deep end by now.

Maybe it was the repetitive motion of moving the sandpaper along the grain of her wooden hull that did it for him, that allowed for his mind to turn off, even if just for a little while, and let him forget all that haunted him or frustrated him. When he worked on his boat, it was as if the world above his head and outside of his basement disappeared and the only two things left in the universe were him and the wood. The way it curved, the smell of the sawdust and how it felt to have a tool in his hand as he brought his creation to existence always had a soothing effect on his soul unlike anything else ever could anymore.

However, as he attempted to work that night, it failed to work the magic it usually did right away and he found himself distracted.

Giving up on the sandpaper for now, he went over to his workbench for a break, grabbed his coffee mug and bottle of bourbon, pouring himself a spot and thinking as he sipped at the mellowing spirit.

Abby had been right. Tony wasn't acting himself. Sure, he was in physical pain, but that had never before stopped him from being the easy-going, sophomoric, jackass that he usually displayed towards the world. Gibbs knew it was a front and that his senior agent hid behind so convincingly and constantly, that when he dropped the act, even for a moment, it was a sure sign that something was troubling him.

However, he didn't know how to help him if he didn't know what was wrong and knowing, DiNozzo, it would take nothing short of a crowbar to admit any kind of vulnerability to him.

So, standing there all alone in his basement, Gibbs decided that the only thing he could do for now was hope that Tony would just get over what was bugging him and snap out of it. Once he got Tony out of the hospital, he was going to need to get him to focus if he was to get healed and back to work.

Gibbs suddenly turned his head towards his stairs, hearing a noise at the top. Thinking at first that he had an intruder, his Marine instincts took over and he reached for the spot he normally left his Sig, but swore to himself as he remembered leaving it upstairs when he changed clothes. Damn, the whole DiNozzo thing had him more distracted than he cared to admit. At least he still had his rifle and he went to the drawer that held it, but didn't have to open it as a black-haired, pig-tailed head poked out from the top of the stairs and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Gibbs?” She called out “You down here?”

“Abby? What are you doing here at this hour? I thought you were going home after the hospital.”

Abby came down the stairs as quickly and as carefully as she could in her three-inch platform boots.

“Well, I was...But as I was leaving Tony's room I kinda sort of found something that I think he didn't want anyone to see...I think it's what's been making him so un-Tony-like. I probably should have just left it, but I took it anyway...I thought you should see it....”

“Abbs...What are you talking about.”

“This...” Abby pulled a card out of her handbag and held it put to Gibbs.

“A card?”

“Just read it...you'll see what I mean.”

Gibbs took the card with a hint of skepticism and opened it. Wishing he had on his glasses he held it out at arm's length to read it. If the outside of the card, with it's photo of sunflowers was any indication of who sent it, then Gibbs figured it had to be someone that didn't know Tony very well, but he was surprised to see the name hastily signed at the bottom of the card below the sappy and rather insipid poem wishing Tony to get better soon. Immediately, anger flashed across his features and through his body like an electric charge. He felt his teeth grind. Damn that man. he thought.

“What do you think, Gibbs?” Abby asked, but didn't wait for his answer “I think we need to do something about this.”

“Like what, Abby?”

“Like...I don't know....talk to Tony about it....let him know that his real family is right here- that he doesn't need his father, he's got us.”

Gibbs was surprised to feel his head snap up at the mention that Tony didn't need his father. It wasn't too long ago that Gibbs had felt the same way towards his own father as he had cut him out of his life because of the painful mistake the older man had made at Shannon and Kelly's funeral. For way too many years he had harbored a grudge against his father for bringing another woman to their funeral, but seeing him again just a few months ago and finding a way to patch things up had reminded Gibbs that he indeed did need his father and that Jackson Gibbs was in no small part responsible for him becoming the man he was now. Tony too needed his father, whether or not those two wanted anything to do with each other.

However, was it Gibbs' place to interfere?

He didn't the last time the younger man almost died. Then again, after the plague, Tony was back to work only a couple of weeks later, but this time around, his recovery was going to be considerably longer and more challenging. Perhaps it was time he took a chance and say the things he wanted to say years ago, but in person this time.

Abby was still looking at him expectantly and hoping for some kind of action. It was then that he came to a decision, whether it would prove to be a good one or not was still to be seen, but he owed it to Tony to try.

“I'll take you home Abby. In the morning, tell McGee and the Director that I'm taking the day off.”

OOOOOOOOOO

After five hours on the road and stopping only for coffee and a restroom once, Gibbs would be approaching his destination soon, but he was still uncertain that he was doing the right thing.

What if he was crossing a line here?

He went over his reasons for his actions in his head and once again pulled out the memories of the last time he spoke with the man he was going to pay a surprise visit to early that morning.

Four years earlier:

“Agent Gibbs?”

“Yes?”

Gibbs turned to face Dr. Pitt, tearing his eyes away from the glass partition that separated him from his agent fighting for his life on the other side. Earlier, he made sure that Tony knew that he was expecting him to survive and he knew that the younger man would do just about anything to not disappoint his boss, but still...was it enough? There was only so much motivation one could give when faced with odds Tony had of beating this...

15%, Dr. Pandi had explained to him at gun-point.

Not good odds, but enough for him to expect Tony to win over this disease. As long as there was any chance of keeping his senior field agent around, he'd take it. Even still, the reality of the situation had been sobering since the first time he saw Tony struggling to breathe through blue lips under the glare of those eerie ultraviolet lights above.

“I was just wondering if Agent DiNozzo has any family that we should contact?” The young doctor asked.

“He has a father, but they aren't on speaking terms.” Gibbs replied simply, thinking that would be the end of it.

“If you know how to contact his father it might be best that he know that his son's condition is quite critical." Dr. Pitt continued. " The Y-Pestis has stopped multiplying, but the secondary infection causing his pneumonia has still yet to respond to the antibiotics we're administering and I still can't be certain that they will. He's a very long way from being out of the woods and I just think that if things should deteriorate, his father might want to see him before....”

“Tony's not going to die.” Gibbs cut him off, tersely.

“I know you want to believe that Agent Gibbs, but I've seen patients that appear to be recovering and do well and then hours later they take a turn for the worse and never make it...I'd just hate to think that Agent DiNozzo never got a chance to see any of his family in case that happened.”

Reluctantly, Gibbs had to admit that if he had been the one to be on his deathbed, then he might consider wanting to see his father one last time, even if he hadn't spoken to the man in years. Even if it was to just say good-bye.

So, battling his gut, he found himself getting Abby to track down Vincent DiNozzo's personal phone number and calling, listening to the phone ring.

“Vincent DiNozzo.” A gruff voice answered.

“Mr. DiNozzo, my name is Special Agent Gibbs, I work for NCIS and I'm calling regarding your son.”

“My son? What has he done now?” Gibbs bristled at the abrasive tone the other man had taken at the mention of his own son.

“Sir, your son works for NCIS with me and I'm informing you that he's in the hospital here at Bethesda and is critically ill. He's holding his own for now, but doctors are still not 100% certain that he's going to make it. I thought it best that you should know and that you might want to see him... just in case.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Mr. DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, wondering if he was still there.

“I'm afraid that I am on my way to the airport right now...I have a vital meeting to attend in Amsterdam that I need to be present for....I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but I just cannot come...My secretary will see to it that he knows I was thinking of him.”

“Don't you think he'd want to hear that from you personally?” Gibbs couldn't help but blurt out in irritation.

“Agent Gibbs, I would suggest that you stay out of this...Anthony is myson and he's a DiNozzo, he knows how important overseas meetings are to our business...He'll understand.”

“That is, if he survives....sir.” Gibbs ground out between clenched teeth.

“That's all I have to say on this, Agent Gibbs...Now please leave this between our family....Good-day.” Abruptly the phone went silent and Gibbs cursed out loud, wanting to throw the phone across the room, but made due with just snapping it shut forcefully in frustration. It was little wonder why Tony had so little to do with his father, but what could he do about it? It wasn't as if he had a shining example of what a father and son relationship should look like himself.

So he let it be.

As promised, a card arrived a day later from his father, or at least a card bearing his father's signature arrived, even though Gibbs knew that it would have been impossible for the man to send the card personally if he had been in Europe at the time. Gibbs didn't say anything to Tony about that, why add insult to injury.

Yet, he saw the change that came over Tony after he received that card. He knew that Tony didn't believe his father had actually sent it himself. Gibbs could see how much it distressed the younger man and how despite how miserable he had to be feeling not only physically from the illness, but from his own father's lame excuse for a greeting had forced him to smile a little too brightly and try a little too hard to prove to everyone, including himself that he was just fine, even if he clearly wasn't.

Gibbs didn't buy it then and he wouldn't buy it now.

He regretted not doing anything then, but things would be different this time around.

Gibbs turned onto the highway that would take him the last few miles to his destination. Last time he had wanted to give the man a piece of his mind, but held back, but now...things had changed. He had changed...his relationship with Tony had changed, his own relationship with his father had changed. Sure, he wasn't Tony's father, but he would never take him for granted like Vincent DiNozzo had....even though he had to admit that he had taken his own father for granted for far too long.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Gibbs increased his speed, determined to do what he should have done all those years ago.

Dawn had broken into a beautiful spring day as he pulled into the lush, Long Island neighborhood filled with multi-million dollar mansions. He drove past the perfectly manicured lawns and gated drives until he found the number that Abby had tracked down for him before he left.

Looking at the impressive structure, Gibbs steeled his resolve and pulled up to the gate. After rolling down the window and pressing the call button on the intercom, he was asked to state his name and reason for visit by a voice on the other end. Showing his badge to the video camera located above the intercom, he spoke into the speaker.

“I'm Special Agent Gibbs with NCIS. I'm hear to see Vincent DiNozzo.”

TBC...

Chapter 9

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably in the overly ornate wing-back chair he sat in then checked his watch for the tenth time. He's been waiting twenty minutes in the stuffy sitting room of the DiNozzo estate, listening to the tick and tock of the impressively enormous grandfather clock at the other end of the room as he strummed his fingers to its beat on the arm rest.

As he sat and analyzed the room, he drew some conclusions about the man that owned it. Everything about the room and the home he had seen so far spoke of the ridiculous amount of time and effort that went into the business of collecting enormous amounts of money and spending it on over-priced amenities and luxuries. He realized that all of this material stuff was Vincent DiNozzo's way of showing the world that he had succeeded not only in gaining wealth, but power as well and he also knew that making Gibbs wait was a demonstration of that power, showing the agent that he was on his turf and would come and see him only when he was good and ready.

The waiting did little to improve his mood and if anything, it only gave him more ammunition and time to think about all he wanted to say to the man when he finally showed up.

It was another ten minutes before a figure in a grey, double breasted suit and black, Italian leather dress shoes entered the room. Gibbs stood and came face to face with what he imagined Tony might look like in about twenty-five years. In truth, he was the spitting image of his senior field agent save for the extra wrinkles and silver hair; there was no denying that he was Tony's father.

“Special Agent Gibbs, you do realize that it is seven o'clock in the morning? It's a little early for a social call.” The senior DiNozzo folded his arms and regarded Gibbs with open contempt.

“I'm not here for that reason, sir.”

“Then why are you here? Long Island is a long way from Washington, D.C.”

“That it is.” Gibbs agreed.

“You may have managed to bully your way in here and passed through my staff with that badge of yours, but I won't be so easily intimidated. You should know that I took the liberty of contacting your agency and spoke with Director Vance, he seems to think that you should be in Washington right now.”

“That's because I didn't tell him I was coming here.”

“He's none too pleased about that and neither am I."

"If I had called you before hand would you have found time in your busy schedule to see me?" Gibbs asked, knowing the answer.

"I suppose not....but you never answered my question, Agent Gibbs. Why are you here? I imagine it has something to do with my wayward son, Anthony. Am I correct?”

“It does, sir.”

“I believe I've made it clear in the past that what goes on between my son and I is a private family matter and I would suggest you stay out of it.”

“I wasn't planning on meddling in your family affair, sir. Whatever issues you have with your son are between you and Tony. I'm not here to force you two upon each other or reconcile your differences- God knows I'm no family therapist. I just thought you should know a little more about your wayward son, who is by the way, anything but.”

“I know my son, agent Gibbs. I don't need youto tell me about him. I provided him with anything he ever wanted growing up, sent him to the finest schools and primed him to take over the family business when I retired.....he could have had all of this...” The older DiNozzo swept his had around the room and all of it's symbols of wealth.

“But he was too headstrong and refused to take advantage of the opportunities that he was given. Instead, he wanted to play sports and chase the impossible dream of becoming a professional athlete, as if one could do that for an actual living their entire life. I cut him off from the family money because I wanted him to shape up and make something of himself. Instead, he goes off and becomes a nobody cop.” The senior DiNozzo spoke venomously, setting Gibbs' teeth on edge.

“He had so much potential, but he wasted it. So, trust me, Agent Gibbs, I know my son and he'll never change; he's a lazy, spoiled, obnoxious brat that thinks only of three things: Girls, sports and himself. I swear he has nothing but fluff in between those ears of his and I gave up any hope of him making a name for himself years ago.”

“Well, sir. I suppose you got him just about pegged.” Gibbs spat back sarcastically, crossing his arms. “Yeah, he can be annoying and crass, and maybe he was as you describe him when he was young, but I don't think you really do know him that well anymore. Now, I don't say this lightly and I'm not one to throw compliments around, but what you don't know is that he is one of the finest agents I have ever had the pleasure to work with. He saved my life, on more than one occasion, usually at the risk of losing his own. Did you even know he jumped into a freezing river to get me and another woman out of a car that fell into the water?”

Seeing the look of surprise that flickered over the other man's face, Gibbs continued. “Yeah, your spoiled brat of a son, selflessly put his own life in jeopardy to save mine. He was sick for two weeks after that too because his lungs aren't what they used to be after he nearly died from the plague.... You might remember being informed about that a few years ago if you care to remember.... He should have died then, he was only given about a 15% chance of survival, but he grabbed onto that chance and beat it... Why? Because your lazy son refused to give up.”

“Then there are all of the terrorists, murderers, rapists and other criminals he has put away over the years. Not to mention the Sailors, Marines and civilians he's also saved as well since he came to NCIS. And despite what you think, once you dig past the initial layer of fluff in his head you'd find out that he is way smarter than you would expect and he often makes connections that others don't see. His instincts are better than almost anyone I've ever come across and I for one, am glad he decided to become a nobody cop.”

“Did you come all of this way just to invade my home, insult me and judge my parenting skills, Agent Gibbs? Because if that is the case, then I'll have your badge before you can even make it back to D.C.” DiNozzo threatened.

“Not at all, sir....I was a father and heaven knows I wasn't perfect. I missed out on an awful lot of my daughter's life because of my career... Let's just say that I thought you should know more about the man your son has become and he's a man that deserves your respect. I'm proud of him and I'm not ashamed to say that I am honored to have him on my team.”

“Don't you think you could have just told me all of this over the phone instead of traveling all this way up here?”

“Sure, I could have, but I came here because I had to show you something.”

“And just what do you have to show me?” Gibbs stepped a little closer into the other man's personal space and bored his steely blues into hazel ones.

“That your son's worth the trip.” Gibbs turned to head for the door without another word and left, leaving a dumbfounded Vincent DiNozzo in his wake. He had nothing further he wanted to say to the man. It was all up to Tony's father now to decide what move he would make next.

OOOOOOOOOO

The TV was still on from the movie Tony had been watching before he fell asleep, but he was too tired to wake himself up fully to turn it off. He opted instead to allow the plot of it to incorporate into his dreams, creating some very interesting scenes in his slumbering mind between him in the role of Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window and a blond-headed Ziva as Grace Kelly. However, the weird part didn't come until the zombies showed up- he was pretty sure that didn't happen in the movie the last time he saw it.

Trying to shake off the strange dream, but still on that cusp between being fully asleep and marginally awake, his conscious mind was telling him he should wake up, that he had slept enough, but his body was slow to respond to its demands. Finally managing to break through some of the dense fog in his head, he opened his eyes blearily and looked up to see that the ending credits of the movie were rolling.

Damn!- he slept through the whole thing.

He hated how his pain medication made him so tired all of the time. Even though he was getting better and the pain wasn't as bad as it was the first few days, he just hoped he wouldn't always be dependent on the drugs to make it through the day like he did now. So that morning he decided to try and see how long he could go without them, making it from breakfast until supper before he could stand it no longer and finally gave in and pressed the button for the sweet relief the drugs delivered to him.

But now, that meant he was too loopy to even stay awake for long enough to enjoy being pain-free.

This all just sucked.

Feeling his eyelids wanting to close yet again, the pull of sleep beckoned to him yet again, but a sudden presence filled the room and started speaking, shaking him thoroughly from his drowsiness as he snapped his eyes wide open.

“You're gonna get weird dreams if you keep sleeping with the television on, DiNozzo.” Gibbs flicked off the TV and turned his attention to the younger man.

“You're telling me, I thought you were a zombie there for a moment, Boss.”

“Zombie? I didn't think I looked that bad.”

“No, but now that you mention it, you do look a little peaked. You haven't had any cravings for brains lately, have you?”

“No, but if I did, do you think I would be coming to your room to find some?” Tony grinned a bit from Gibbs' ribbing, but watched with growing concern as the older man took a seat and wearily ran a hand over his face. He looked way beyond tired or even exhausted; he looked old and worn out- a condition that Tony was unaccustomed to seeing in a man that he was certain had never shown a moments vulnerability to anyone.

“Gee, Gibbs. You ever hear of sleeping?”

“I used to before you joined my team and tried to get yourself killed every other week.”

“Ow-That's hitting below the belt, Boss.”

Gibbs slumped slightly and sighed, keeping his eyes centered on the coffee cup in his hands. Something was clearly up and bothering the older man if he was only looking at his coffee instead of drinking it and Tony was almost too afraid to ask. Even though it was like his Boss to normally be reticent and keep most, if not all things to himself, he couldn't help wanting to get to the bottom of things.

“What's going on? New case?” Tony asked.

“No, actually it turns out I'll be off for a little while.”

“You're taking time off?" Tony asked in disbelief "...Am I still asleep?...I must be dreaming...”

“No...I'm suspended.”

“What?” Tony asked, surprised. “What happened?”

“I pissed off the CEO of a fortune 500 company.”

“Ahhh, I see. So, he called the director and now Vance has to make it look like he has some control over you and his agents to these big wigs and gives you a suspension for like what...a couple of days?.”

“Not exactly...It's a week. But, I'll take my lumps. I deserved it....I took off without notice to speak with him.”

“But a week? God, Boss..What did you do, deck the guy?”

“Wanted to...but no...I crossed a line and for purely personal reasons, I tried to show him the truth about his son- that he wasn't as much of a screw-up as he thought that he was and that he didn't have to make money hand over fist to be a success. I explained how he was brave and heroic and had saved many lives-even my own.” Gibbs turned his head Tony's way and made eye contact.

"And most importantly, I told him that he was someone he should be proud to call his son.”

“You got suspended for that?” Tony's fuzzy brain may have been a little slow thanks to the medication and at first he thought Gibbs had been talking about some Marine, but he was catching up pretty quick to what Gibbs was trying to say and he wasn't sure he was liking it very much at all as he put 2 + 2 together. Realization coming to the forefront of his mind, he could feel the color draining out of his face as his boss continued.

“Apparently, he doesn't appreciate surprise, early morning visits or being told that he had been wrong about his son for so many years.”

“So, this CEO guy...He have a name?” Tony asked cautiously after a hard gulp, picking at his blanket and doing his best to play it cool and pretend like he didn't know who Gibbs was talking about and that he wasn't doing his best to hold back the flood-waters of his emotions by sticking his finger in the proverbial dike.

“Of course he does, DiNozzo.” Gibbs shrugged but leaned in closer and spoke softer this time. “But it doesn't matter. I got a feeling that I got through to him even if he didn't like what I had to say...He'll come around eventually.”

“What if....What if this son doesn't want him to...” Tony's voice faltered for a moment until he willed himself to continue speaking. “And what if this son is a little upset that you went and spoke to his father because he's not ready to forgive him and he'd rather the man just stayed as far away as possible?”

“Then I promise I won't let him anywhere near his son.” Gibbs reassured him. “Until he decides the time is right...if ever. But I don't and won't ever feel bad about what I've done.”

Tony nodded as well as he could against the constriction that came across his throat. He wasn't sure how he should be feeling right at the moment. Should he be angry? Sad? Grateful? He was too confused to know.

However, Gibbs made a promise and he never, ever failed to keep his word; at least that was something Tony could count on with certainty even if nothing else in his life right at the moment made any sense whatsoever.

TBC....

Chapter 10

“You have any idea why the Director wants to see us?” Foster asked Ziva and McGee as they climbed the stairs towards Vance's office.

“Judging by the fact that Gibbs was gone all day and then spent a whole five minutes in Vance's office before storming out... I can only guess that whatever it is...It's not going to be good.” McGee answered.

“Where do you think Gibbs was all day?” Ziva wondered out loud.

“Good question, but I'm sure he'll never tell us.” McGee figured just as they passed into the waiting area to the director's office. “But I'll get it out of Abby after this. I'm sure she knows. After all, she was the one that told me he wasn't coming in today.”

As soon as they walked in, Vance's secretary waved them through and as a group, they entered together.

Vance was looking out his window to the street below, watching as sailors, marines and civilians from all different walks of life went about their business at the Navy Yard. As if sensing the team's presence, Vance spoke while continuing to look out the window.

“Agent McGee....”

“Yes, Director?”

“Agent Gibbs will not be coming in for the rest of the week.” Ziva, Foster and McGee exchanged looks of surprise and concern.

“Sir?” McGee asked, not believing that Gibbs might actually take some time off voluntarily, especially given the way he stormed out of here earlier. Something bad definitely happened.

“You will be in charge of the team until he returns, understood?”

“Uh....um. yes, sir.” McGee tripped over his words.

“Good. However, until Gibbs returns, all major cases will be assigned to other teams. You three can use this week to catch up on paperwork.”

“Understood, Sir.”

Vance nodded then turned away from the window, appraising the team that stood before him, but not betraying any of his thoughts as he kept his features expressionless.

“You are all dismissed.” He curtly informed them. Ziva and McGee headed for the door as did Foster, but before he could reach it, Vance called out to him.

“Agent Foster. Come back here for just a moment and shut the door behind you.”

Foster did as he was instructed and marched up to Vance.

“I've been reading your reports and I'm impressed with your work on the Nelson case. You're doing a fine job and it's only your first week.”

“Thank-you, sir.”

“But what I'd really like to know is how you feel about your assignment here and being on Gibbs' team.”

“It's been very...interesting so far and we all seem to work well together, Sir. And while Agent Gibbs can certainly be .....abrasive and demanding, I'm learning a lot and overall I'm glad to be here and on the team.”

Vance nodded thoughtfully.

“I'm glad you say so.” Foster recognized a prized opportunity when he saw one and he grabbed onto it while he had the undivided attention of the director.

“Director Vance, Sir...If I may be so bold...I know I've only been in Washington a short time, but I wanted to speak to you about the future of my assignment here...It's come to my knowledge that there is the possibility that Agent DiNozzo may not be able to return to active field duty due to his injuries.”

Vance raised an eyebrow then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a toothpick, tucking it into the corner of his mouth as he appraised the younger agent.

“There is that possibility, Agent Foster” Vance admitted. “....I take it you are interested in a permanent position on Gibbs' team should that happen?”

“Sir, I would be honored if you would consider it. Of course, I would never wish for Agent DiNozzo to not return, but looking from a purely pragmatic standpoint, I just want you to know that I'm available.....should the need arise.”

Vance minutely nodded, his toothpick bobbing up and down as he chewed on it thoughtfully before pulling it out and pointing it in Foster's direction.

“I'll consider your request, Agent Foster. Like you said, you've only been here a short time and given a few more weeks, you may find that working with Gibbs is a greater challenge than you first thought and you might change your mind.”

Foster nodded, but knew that he wouldn't change his mind.

“Thank-you, Sir.” Foster made to leave, but Vance stopped him.

“You might want to keep this conversation of ours to yourself, Foster. Gibbs and the others are unfathomably attached to Agent DiNozzo and it wouldn't bode well for you if they knew that you were being considered as a permanent replacement.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“Good.” Vance turned away without another word and went back to his window once again. Foster turned and left the office, his heart leaping at the fact that the Director seemed to be on his side and he couldn't help by smirk a little once he knew no one was looking his way.

Coming back to the bullpen, he found that McGee and Ziva were missing from their desks and figuring that they had headed for Abby's lab, he decided to try and find them.

As he made his way to the elevator and rode it down, his mind worked in overdrive, planning out all that he needed to do. When the car came to a stop and the doors opened he strolled over to the open door to the lab, but stopped short as he heard voices float out across the threshold speaking about Agent Gibbs and Agent DiNozzo.

Taking refuge where he couldn't be seen, he decided to wait and listen to what they were discussing and hoped that whatever it would be of some use to him.

OOOOOOOOOO

Ziva and McGee wasted no time hightailing it to Abby's lab as soon as they were released from the Director's office, not caring that Agent Foster wasn't following. But upon entering the Goth's domain, they were met with a pig-tailed stonewall standing in the middle of her lab with both hands on her hips.

“Stop right there, you two.” She pointed at them, her eyes narrowing. “ I don't know anything, so you should both just go on back upstairs where you came from.”

“Right, Abby. We know you know what's going on with Gibbs today.” McGee accused her.

“No way...I'm not talking...and you can't make me!” She stood defiantly.

“C'mon, Abby. Don't you think we should know why Gibbs is out for the rest of the week?” McGee prodded.

“He's off for the rest of the week?” She asked suddenly, her demeanor flipping from standoffish to concerned like a light switch. “ What happened? He was supposed to only be gone for today...”

Abby's face dropped as she realized her slip up and she smacked herself on the back of the head.

“Ah ha! So you do know what's going on....C'mon, spill” McGee ordered.

“Alright, Alright....” Abby relented. “Let's just say that I found something in Tony's room that was from his father and I think it upset him. So I went and saw Gibbs last night and showed it to him to see what he thought we should do. Then Gibbs got angry, which really isn't all that unusual in and of itself, but then he took me home and he told me to tell you that he wasn't going to be in today, that he had something he needed to do, but he didn't tell me anything else- I swear...”

Ziva caught a glint in Abby's eye and she tried to turn away and hide it, but it was too late. Ziva was already onto her.

“You are holding something back, yes?” She asked Abby. “What else do you know that you are not telling us?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Abby obviously lied.

“Abby....” McGee started in on her like a father that caught their kid with her hands in the proverbial cookie jar. “What did you do?”

“Well, nothing really...I was worried about what he was going to do, so I kinda tracked the GPS locater in his cell.”

“You did? Well, then where did he go?”

“He drove up to Long Island.”

“Long Island? That's almost a six hour drive.” McGee pointed out, surprised.

“Actually, with way he drives, it only took him five.”

“So then you were tracking him the whole time?” Ziva asked.

“Yeah...I couldn't sleep after he left, so I came back here to keep an eye on him. " Abby admitted.

“What would Gibbs be doing in Long Island?” McGee wondered.

“Don't you get it?” Abby asked, as if he should know and McGee shook his head. Abby growled in frustration and threw up her hands until Ziva spoke up.

“Tony's father lives in Long Island.”

“You think Gibbs went to see Tony's dad?” McGee asked, surprised that Gibbs would actually miss work in order to speak with Tony's father.

“Yeah...I guess things must not have gone so well if Gibbs got suspended.”

“Who said Gibbs was suspended?” McGee asked "All we were told was that he was off for the rest of the week.”

“McGee, for a genius you can sometimes be pretty dense.” Abby chided him.”Think about it...When was the last time Gibbs took time off?...The only way he would ever stay away from the office for a whole week would be if he was ordered to...so of course he was suspended.”

"I guess you're right." Tim nodded in realization.

“God....do you think he hit Tony's dad or something like that? A week is pretty bad, isn't it?” Abby mused.

“From what I have gathered, Tony's father has quite a bit of influence not only in business but in the government as well what with all of the money he's supplied to various political campaigns, he may have used that to get to the director and not wanting to appear weak to SecNav should Tony's father complain to him, Vance punished Gibbs more severely than he normally would have.” Ziva rationalized.

"I sure hope that's all there is to it ” Abby muttered. Silence descended over the room, but none of them heard or saw Agent Foster slowly back away from the door where he had been hiding and slink back into the elevator. They never knew that they had just given Foster the idea to find out as much as he could about Agent DiNozzo's father, figuring that such information might come in handy later on should things not go according to his liking.

OOOOOOOOOO

“You ready to go?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Let's go then.” Gibbs came up behind Tony's wheelchair and began pushing him to the door and out of the hospital room. Neither man said much as they headed for the hospital exit and outside to Gibbs' car parked in the patient loading and unloading area. Tony was grateful to be leaving, even if that meant he would now be at the mercy of his boss for the foreseeable future.

Truth be told, he was still a little angry at Gibbs for speaking to his father and he's been thankful that he had only stopped by a few times during his forced vacation as he didn't want to say something that he might regret later, but he had to hand it to his mentor that it took balls to confront his old man, something Tony had never attempted. He found that his anger was also tempered by the fact that Gibbs had cared enough to do it in the first place and it was something he never would have expected from the former Marine.

Leaving Tony at the curb for a moment, Gibbs opened the passenger side door. Awkwardly,he had to help Tony into the passenger seat of his car by requiring the younger man to wrap his arms around Gibbs' neck as he helped him out of the wheelchair and into the car. Tony hated feeling like an invalid, but it was ten times worse when he had to have his boss help him just to get from one sitting position to another. It was almost too much humiliation for him to take.

Settling in the seat, Tony groaned a bit at the flare of pain in his back and Gibbs gave him a concerned, but stern look, lowering the back of the seat to a more comfortable position for him.

“You take that medicine yet?” Gibbs asked and Tony rolled his eyes.

“I'm fine.” He groused.

Gibb's face grew sterner, if that was even possible and Tony relented.

“Fine. I'll take some when we get back.”

That seemed to be enough for Gibbs for the time being and he went off to fold up the wheelchair and stick it into the back seat.

Once in the car, Gibbs drove off, but at a pace that Tony had never known him could go before; the speed limit.

God....Could this get any worse? He thought to himself. It was as if he was taking a fragile baby home from the hospital and not a grown man.

Tony closed his eyes against the growing pain in his back and his ever increasing sense that his independence was going to be a long ways away and he wondered how many weeks he still had before he could get around on his own. It was almost too long to bear about thinking about and all he could focus on was how weird it was going to be to be so dependent on Gibbs for just about everything.

So wrapped up in his thoughts was he, that he didn't even realize they had pulled into Gibbs' driveway until the elder man announced that they were there. Tony looked up in surprise to see the finely built ramp that had been installed on his front porch over the steps, astounded by its craftsmanship. So that's what had kept Gibbs occupied all week while he was away from work, Tony thought to himself.

“Wow, Boss. You made all of this for me? You know, you could have just laid some plywood over the steps.” Tony pointed out.

“You expecting me to half-ass something on my own house, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked as he got out of the driver's seat and opened the back door to pull out the wheelchair.

“Oh, well...of course not...I suppose you would want to whole ass it...” Tony weakly joked as Gibbs came around to the other side of the car and opened the door, giving Tony one of those looks that told him exactly what to do.

“Shutting up now, Boss.”

“Good. You gonna help me get you out or you just gonna sit there all day?” Once again, Tony grunted as he wrapped his arms around Gibbs and he was half-lifted him out of the car and into the wheelchair, raising the foot rests for his casted legs to rest on. Again, he underestimated how much the simple act of getting out of a car could be such a painful production. Tony blanched from the stabbing pain in his back that assaulted him as soon as he put his bottom in the chair and of course, this wasn't to go unnoticed by Gibbs' omnicient senses.

“You okay?” Gibbs asked with more concern in his voice than Tony cared to hear.

“Just peachy.” Tony replied bitterly, clenching his teeth.

“Let's get you inside.”

Gibbs pushed him up the ramp and opened the door, pushing him into the living room, only stopping for a moment to close the door behind him.

“I'm going to fix you something to eat.” Gibbs informed him as he rolled him into the kitchen and up to the table. Tony couldn't even think about putting anything in his stomach at that moment as it was all twisted up in knots. Not just from the pain, but from the whole surreality of the situation. Gibbs was being...nice... and he couldn't stand it. He just wished things were normal again.

“I'm not very hungry right now, but thanks anyway.”

“Did I ask if you were hungry? The doctor said you shouldn't take your medication on an empty stomach and you will be taking it as soon as you eat something, understood?.” Tony sighed. At least Gibbs' niceness was wearing off quickly, making him feel a little better already.

A turkey sandwich and two Vicodin forced into his stomach later and Gibbs was wheeling Tony down the hall to the guest bedroom. Tony was expecting the usual sparse room that he had once slept in while his apartment was being fumigated a couple of years ago. Normally 'decorated' with a twin box spring and mattress set serving as its only furniture, he was more than a little surprised to see the room as it was now when Gibbs opened the door.

“Uh...Boss...Is that?....” Tony stammered and could hardly get the words out, he was so dumbfounded.

“Yeah, that's your bed, your sheets, your TV, your movies. If there's anything else you want from your apartment just let me know and I'll get Ziva to break in again.”

Tony felt a smile spread across his face even as Gibbs helped him into the bed and he knew it was more than just the medication beginning to work. It was a simple thing really, to be in his own bed, surrounded by his things, even if it wasn't his home and he had to be helped to do the easiest tasks. It was a piece of him being put back into its rightful place as a he inched that much closer to regaining some semblance of normalcy again.

He knew then without a doubt he had friends that cared, that they would go the extra mile just for him. That was something he hadn't been expecting and it was the best surprise he had ever had in his life and the best he had felt since he fell from that balcony.

“Thanks, Boss.” Told gratefully spoke, as Gibbs pulled a blanket over him. "I really do appreciate all of this."

“Don't mention it, DiNozzo.” Gibbs smirked back at Tony's happy reaction and a growing emotion began to emerge, something he hadn't been entirely convinced he would feel again. It was hope- and he welcomed its return.

TBC.....

Chapter 11

For Tony, everyday was much of the same after that first night at Gibbs' place:

0500- Wake up to Gibbs turning on the light and growling something about him spending all day in bed, then helping him to the bathroom. As if having Gibbs help him onto the toilet wasn't bad enough, then there came the dressing, which took way longer than it really should have. Before they both figured out a system for getting Tony into and out of his pants with his casts on, the ordeal left both men frustrated and cursing with words that would made a biker blush. But there was no way he was going to spend any more time in a hospital gown. They eventually decided that extra-large sweatpants worked best and he longed for the day he could just slip on his favorite jeans again.

5:30 -Eat breakfast. Usually a bowl of cereal was enough for him, but Gibbs never eats breakfast- only drinks coffee (no surprise there) and watches to make sure that Tony finishes and takes his medication before he leaves for work.

0600- Joy, the home health aide, arrives and Tony likes to tease her and turn on the charm, even though she's in her mid-fifties, smokes like a chimney and is definitely not his type as she's built more like a linebacker than most men he knows. But he flirts with her because he know it makes her happy and a happy home health aide, was an aide that let's him get away with doing all the things Gibbs won't let him do when he's home. After a couple of weeks she lets him drink coffee or skip his pain medications so he wouldn't feel like a zombie all day.

0605- 1500- And so begins the part where Tony believes he's stuck in an endless time-loop and his life had become more like a bastard child bred from the melding of Groundhog Day and Rear Window, except not nearly as funny nor as suspenseful as either one of those two movies.

Joy's first order of business everyday is to help Tony with taking off his back brace and get him clean. As she sponges him down and washes his hair, he closes his eyes and imagines that her hands are those of a young, buxom blond, but reality always smacks him back in the face when she rinses his hair and tells him she's all done with her gravelly, monotone smoker's voice that reminds him Marge's sisters on The Simpsons.

For the better part of most days, Joy likes to sit and watch her soaps, talk back to the TV screen, crochet cute little hats for her cats and sneak outside for cigarette breaks while Tony usually retreats to the spare room and pops in a movie or two, praying for the day when he can go back to work.

He's so bored during the day that he even asks Gibbs one morning before he leaves if he has a pair of binoculars he can borrow so he can spy on the neighborhood just like Jimmy Stewart did in Rear Window. At least in that movie he ended up catching a murderer and that was something Tony hadn't done in quite a while. He could see his boss' hand twitch, wanting to slap Tony upside the head as soon as he asked, which he would have accepted and reveled in it as a sign that Gibbs didn't think him a cripple, but the older man held back. Instead he said:

“My neighbors are in their eighties and if I hear that you've been peeping on them, I'll knock you to next Tuesday.” At least Gibbs' threats were something that hadn't changed.

1500 -Every other day Joy would load him up into her minivan and drive him to the hospital where she would pass him off to his physical therapist and he would get his thrice a week dose of physical torture. Okay, it wasn't torture per se as it was meant to help get him strong again and keep the muscles around his broken bones from total atrophy, but it mostly just translated into pain and lots of it.

At least Tina, his young, petite physical therapist was hot.

So, it was almost mandatory that he flirt with her. Even though flirted back, she never went easy on him.

She gave Tony the incentive to work harder just by virtue of her cuteness and sunny disposition and he actually looks forward to coming in, even if he knows that he'd never be able date her after all of this. After all, she was like a tiny dominatrix in smiley faced scrubs and he had to admit he was one part turned on by that and one part intimidated.

After he was finished and cleaned off after his workout, Joy would take him back to Gibbs' place where she would help him into bed for a nap before she would leave for the day. Sometimes he slept if his physical therapy session had been a particularly demanding one, but oftentimes he finds himself staring at the ceiling, the house absolutely quiet, leaving him with little else to do but think and think and think until dinner.

Now there was the real torture.

1900- Dinner time was the one variable that changed everyday. Some nights Gibbs would come home with supper or even fix it himself. Tony found out he wasn't such a bad cook as long as he stuck to canned chili and microwaved Hungry man dinners. His boss made sure he ate enough for his satisfaction before disappearing into his basement. It didn't take Tony too long to realize why Gibbs had been divorced three times- the guy was hardly home and when he was, he was still never around. Yet somehow, Gibbs still knew exactly when he was needed and was Johnny on the spot when Tony had to get help with something. It was so uncanny sometimes that he had started calling it 'GSP': Gibbs' sensory perception, even though it annoyed the heck out of the older man when he accused him of having it.

More often than not, it would be Ziva or McGee that brought food as Gibbs often had to work through dinner. Some nights the team would be off to a crime scene or Gibbs had them all working late into the evening at the office, in which case either Abby or Ducky would stop by to make sure he ate something.

At first, he felt a little uncomfortable being fussed over in such a way, but after a while, he came to realize that this was the best part of the day.

It was amazing to him how much his friends could bring a little life and excitement back into his day just by bringing him food. He truly was a man that have could have his heart captured through his stomach.

Each one was different. He could count on Ziva to bring the best take-out food, usually something foreign while McGee was certain to bring the cheapest since his 401K went kablooie with the stock market. However, the ribbing he gave the younger agent about his McChoices over which McBurger from McDonald's to bring, more than made up for it.

Abby knew he loved a good home-cooked meal and she tried her best to make a meatloaf once, but she ended up overcooking it. Actually, charring it was a better description of what she did to that unfortunate ball of ground beef and they wound up watching movies and eating take-out Chinese instead. However, Tony couldn't recall a better time as he watched her putter around the kitchen in her gigantic black boots, wearing a pink, frilly apron covering her short, leather miniskirt, skull and crossbones t-shirt and black and white striped tights. She looked like Betty Crocker turned post-punk, Gothic rocker and he loved every minute of it.

Then there were the times Ducky came by. Being a medical doctor that rarely got the opportunity to treat patients that still had a pulse, he would go into full mother hen mode as soon as he entered, putting Tony through his battery of tests and checking to see how his injuries were healing. Surprisingly, he found it all worth it as the older man was an excellent cook and made the best pork tenderloin he had ever eaten. Plus he discovered that he didn't mind the conversations either, even though he understood little of what Ducky was trying to explain to him and had a hard time keeping up with the older man's meandering thoughts. As long as he brought some pork, it was all good.

This was also the time when he got to hear all about what was going on in the world outside, in other words: NCIS headquarters. Besides the juicy gossip Abby supplied, he loved to hear about the cases they were working on and would even offer his opinion on a few, whether they wanted his help or not. On several occasions, he got McGee and Ziva to open up a little bit on Agent Foster, hoping he could get some insight on the man that was filling in for him. He didn't want to appear insecure about his current predicament, but not knowing what he was up against was something he couldn't live with.

“What do you think of Foster?” He once casually asked Ziva while they ate some Vietnamese food she had brought over.

“He is a capable agent and very sure of himself.” She admitted with a slight roll of her eyes that Tony didn't miss. "Much like you."

“Yeah, but you're missing what's really important here; is he good looking?” Tony asked as he grinned at her, hoping she would take the bait.

“As compared to whom?” She asked “You?”

“Yeah, why not? I'm a pretty good benchmark for handsomeness.” He smiled devilishly while primping his hair.

“Ha!” Ziva laughed sarcastically, a little twinkle in her eyes.

“Well, he is certainly not as....” Ziva paused as though thinking of the right word then leveled her gaze onto him with a sly look. “Hairy.”

Tony pouted outwardly as though hurt, but felt a little more secure in knowing that Ziva at least wasn't attracted to the guy. For some reason if that had been the case, it would have been like adding salt into his already wounded ego.

He had still yet to meet Foster and thankfully, McGee and Ziva kept their praise of the other man to a minimum, but he could tell that they were growing to respect him as they talked about some of the cases. He tried not to let on how much it bugged him to hear about the great and wonderful temporary teammate nor that he was stuck there while they were out risking their lives doing what he should be and watching their sixes.

At least Abby, had a different opinion of his replacement and he couldn't help a little swelling of pride that she never really liked the guy and preferred him.

Throughout the weeks, as each one of his teammates came to share their evening meal with him he learned so much more about his friends than he had previously known and one on one, they opened up to him like they never had before, but he was impatient to get back into things and to have his friends around in more than just little, individual increments. It was the team thing that he missed the most and couldn't wait to get back to it.

2200- After dinner, if Gibbs wasn't already home everyone was under strict orders from the former marine to make sure that Tony took his medicine and was helped to bed. Everyone adhered to Gibbs' schedule, whether Tony wanted them to or not. No one wanted to get on Gibbs' bad side by disobeying, so every night at 2200 on the dot, no matter who was over, Tony was in bed and medicated.

Only one time was this rule broken when Abby forgot to get Tony into bed, but Gibbs didn't punish her as he had found both of them fast asleep in the living room with the TV on and Tony resting his legs comfortably on Abby's lap across the length of the sofa. In a moment of weakness he let them stay that way until morning before he lectured them both on finding better places to sleep.

Finally, A routine change came six weeks into Tony's exile to Gibbsland. Sitting in his orthopedists' office, he waited for the results of his latest x-rays to tell him if he was ready to have at least one of his casts removed. Gibbs had actually taken some time out of his lunch break while they were on a lull between cases and personally drove Tony to the Doctor's instead of Joy. It was still a little weird to have his boss sit with him, waiting for the results, but If all went well, he could find himself walking out of the hospital on his own power rather than with a wheelchair. He'd still be in crutches for a few more weeks, but anything was preferable to literally sitting on his ass all day.

Tony drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrests of the wheelchair while they waited, tapping out a rhythm to a song only he could hear in his head. However, one annoyed look from Gibbs was enough to make him stop and grin sheepishly. He could tell that Gibbs was growing just as impatient and the doctor was taking his sweet time as they had been sitting for almost 40 minutes after the x-rays were finished.

“Gee, how long do you think it takes to read an x-ray?” Tony muttered.

“About this long, DiNozzo.” Gibbs stated just before the door to the office opened and in strolled Dr. Warner.

"How do you do that?" Tony asked Gibbs, but was only given a little twitch of the lips in response. Giving up on that, he turned his attention to the doctor taking a seat behind the desk.

“Hi Doctor.” Tony greeted the orthopedist with a hopeful smile. “So, what's the verdict? Am I a free man?”

“Well Tony, how about we settle for a half-way free man today.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, that means the tibia bone is healed and we can take that cast off today. Your femur is nearly there, but I think we can take the plaster cast off and go with a brace as long as you promise to keep from putting too much weight on it. Your ribs and back look good and are healing nicely and I think we can take the back brace off now.”

“Yes!” Tony did a little hand pump, but then cleared his throat after the look Gibbs gave him.

“So how long do I need to stay on the crutches?”

“Let's check the X-rays again in about four weeks and then we can decide where we from there. I don't want to lie to you. These things take time to heal. You could be walking on that leg in a couple of months or it could be a year.”

Tony's eyebrows raised, four weeks would be cake compared to the last six weeks he spent in the chair, but a year? He felt his heart drop a little.

“How about work?” Tony asked after he regained his composure. “Is there any chance I could be cleared to go back yet? At least desk duty?”

Dr. Warner grew contemplative and Tony held his breath. There wasn't any way that Gibbs would let him set foot in the headquarters building before his doctor cleared him for even so much as stapling papers together.

“How about you give yourself a week to get used to the crutches and to build up the strength in your good leg before you go back to light office work?”

“A week?” Tony complained.

“Take it or leave it, DiNozzo....” Gibbs interjected.

“I guess I could do that.” Tony reluctantly agreed and turned to Gibbs, who was giving his underling a small half-smile.

A half-hour later and Tony was watching as the small hand-held saw cut through his casts. They had been a part of him for so long that he actually felt a little pang of loss at seeing them being destroyed. He had memorized the signatures of his friends and the little pictures Abby had drawn on them, but at the same time, he was more than ready to move on.

“Guess I could use a tan.” He joked to the nurse as the casts were pried off, revealing his pale skin underneath.

He was unsurprised to see the weak looking and scarred legs that were left behind. It reminded him of the time he broke his leg during that Buckeye vs. Wolverine game that pretty much ended his sports career and he remembered how one look at his withered leg muscles after he had his cast taken off then had confirmed that he would never get into the shape that would be needed to be spotted by scouts before he graduated from college.

This time however, he didn't need to be in the physical condition it took to make it onto a professional sports team, he just needed to be in good enough shape to run and do his job well again.

He realized that he wanted that more than he ever desired to make it in sports.

Afterwards, he was fitted with a brace for his leg and a pair of crutches. Free of the encumbrance of his back brace, but without its support and relying only the strength of his newly released leg, Tony was chagrined to find just how slowly he still had to go. However, the fact that he was walking on his own two feet was joy enough for him.

This also meant that he may have to double his PT sessions with Tina.

He couldn't help but leave the hospital with a huge smile on his face.

TBC.....

Chapter 12

“Oh, this is gonna be so much fun.” Tony stood in the back of the elevator watching the numbers tick up with a growing grin, his excitement gaining momentum as the lift rose. “I've got so much planned for McGee...." Tony chuckled mischieviously. "Oh hell, even paperwork sounds like fun after the last two months I've had. I really thought I was gonna go completely bonkers there at your...” Gibbs turned around and glared at Tony who hastily backtracked “Not that I think your place is boring or anything, Boss. It's just...ya know...”

“You sure you're ready for this?” Gibbs asked cutting off his babble.

“Yeah, Boss. I'm getting around pretty well with the crutches now. Just as long there aren't any stairs, I'm good. Besides, I know you're all dying to get me back. Just admit it, the team is lost without me.”

“Yet somehow we managed to catch three murderers, a drug smuggler and two terrorists while you were gone.”

“Okay. Maybe not completely lost, but I'm like the glue that holds the team together, right?”

“More like a nail, except in the forehead.”

“Ow, that hurts more than my leg, Boss.”

“You could always take another week off.”

“You're kidding right?”

“Have I ever kidded with you, DiNozzo?”

“Sure you have.” Tony chuckled, but was shut up by the look Gibbs delivered. “You mean you haven't been joking about firing me all these years?”

“Nope. Even drew up the paperwork a couple of times.” Gibbs deadpanned.

“Really? ” Tony's smile disappeared.

“Yet, somehow you always manage to redeem yourself before I can turn it in.” Gibbs complained outwardly, but grinned secretly after he turned his back to Tony.

It was then that Gibbs walked to the opening door of the elevator and exited, not waiting for Tony to hobble out on his crutches. Taking much longer than he would have liked in all of his anticipation, he rounded the corner to the bullpen as quickly as his one good leg would allow and hoped to catch everyone by surprise.

“Hey! Hey! Every-.....” He called out, but looked to see that neither Ziva nor McGee were at there desks, even Gibbs had disappeared “...one”

“Huh...” Tony was so disappointed to not have anyone greet him as he came in that he forgot all of the nasty comments to his friends he had been preparing and saving up for just this occasion. After all the times he had gone over what the moment arriving at the bullpen again would be like in his head, he was a little disappointed by the reality of it all. It was a let down, but who was he kidding to think that anyone would be waiting with baited breath for him to come back?

He decided to just make his way to his desk and rest his leg when a head popped over the cubicle wall at the far end. He didn't recognize the face, but from the descriptions he received from his friends over the weeks, he was pretty certain of who it was.

“Agent DiNozzo?” The young, dark haired man walked around the corner. Dressed sharply in a tailored black suit, white shirt and black tie, he looked more like an extra from Men in Black than an NCIS agent. He was very handsome, not that Tony would admit that he ever noticed that sort of thing in other men, but there was no denying that he could give Tony a run for his money in the looks department. However, the kid was obviously trying way too hard impress people with his clothing choices....Not that Tony never tried to impress people with his designer clothes, but that was different- He never wore his nicest clothes because he wanted to get ahead at work, especially since Gibbs sure didn't give a damn about where his clothing came from. It was always a woman that was cause for breaking out his best suits.-Big difference.

“Yeah. So, you must be our new temp Probie.”

“Special Agent Aaron Foster. Nice to finally put a face to the name” The other man held out his hand and Tony awkwardly found a way to balance on one foot while releasing his hold on his right crutch so he could shake his hand.

“You too, Special Agent Foster. Where is everyone?”

“Um....I'm not sure. Gibbs told me to stay here and man the phones.”

Looking around the quiet bullpen, Tony turned back to the new guy with raised eyebrows.

“Good job, Probie...Way to watch phones not ring.” Just as Tony finished his sarcastic remark the phone on his desk rang.

“I'll get that, Agent DiNozzo.” Foster told him politely, but his narrowed eyes betrayed his irritation. “I wouldn't want to be derelict in my duty, now would I?” Tony only sneered a little in response once Foster turned his back on him and picked up the phone “Agent DiNozzo's desk.....Yes, he is...” Foster looked up at Tony. “I'll let him know.”

“What's up, Probie?”

“You're wanted in Abby's lab.” Foster informed him.

“Well, at least somebody was looking forward to me coming back.” Tony muttered to himself as he headed for the elevator. “Keep up the phone watch, Foster. You're doing an excellent job.” He called out behind him, not seeing the glint of malice that flashed in the younger man's eyes.

Tony traveled down to the lab, thinking about his first impression of Foster. He wasn't sure he liked him...a little on the shifty side if you asked him, but he had only met the guy for a whole ten seconds, so it was still a little difficult to say how well they would get along. Oh well, it didn't really matter. He was back and the kid would be sent to another team somewhere soon, so he shouldn't have to put up with him for long.

When the elevator doors opened, Tony made his way out and headed for the lab. His smiled brightened as he heard voices coming from inside.

“Candles, Abby? It's not his birthday.”

“I know, but they're pretty, aren't they?” Tony could almost hear the roll of McGee's eyes, even if he couldn't see them yet.

“It is very nice, Abby. With or without the candles.” Ziva offered.

“Awww. Thanks, Ziva. You think Tony will like it?”

“It is chocolate, what is there to not like?”

“As long as it's edible, Tony will like.” McGee mumbled. "It is edible isn't it?"

“Are you saying that something I made wouldn't be edible, Timmy?”

“No. no...I'm sure it's delicious....It's just....”

“Just what, Mcfoot-in-mouth?” Tony asked as he came into the lab.

“Tony! Yay you're here!” Abby came across the lab in a flash and had him in a hug a half second later, but did her best to be careful not to knock him over thanks to his ungainly leg brace and crutches though.

“Hey Abbs, you made me something?”

“It's something alright.” McGee muttered, but Ziva hit him in the arm, causing him to give out a little yelp.

“Come and see.” Abby excitedly pulled him to her table where a bowl appeared to be on fire.

“Surprise!” she exclaimed.”I was going to make you a 'welcome back' cake last night, but I got home late and I didn't have any cake mix and the only thing left in my place that I could make you was some dry cookie mix, but I didn't have any eggs to put into the cookie mix and the only thing I had left that was remotely dessert-like was some chocolate instant pudding mix, so then I thought- what if I combined the cookie and pudding mixes together? Then you could have cookie-dough pudding.” Abby smiled brightly and hopefully up at Tony.

“Ooookay- cookie dough pudding....could be good.” Tony lied as he looked into the bowl and the chunky, chocolate concoction in front of him. “But why are there candles in it?”

“That's what I asked.” McGee pointed out.

“Doesn't anyone understand the concept of pretty anymore? Besides, fire is a symbol of my burning desire to get Tony back to us and here he is.”

“That's sweet, Abby, Thanks” Tony gave her a sincere smile and grateful look and she smiled brightly in return.

“Well, c'mon. Don't just stand there! Get off that leg and blow out your candles.” Abby insisted as she pulled her chair to the table for him to sit. With a little effort, Tony was able to find a comfortable position in the chair in order to blow out the candles

Abby clapped as smoked filled the room after he blew them all out.

“Wow, Tony you got them all in one breath. Good job.”

“Yes..Good blow job.” Ziva offered sincerely.

Tony raised his eyebrows with a gigantic smile to Ziva. McGee and Abby snickered while Ziva just looked confused by their reactions.

“What? What is so bad about what I said?” Ziva began to boil as she realized that she must have said some sort of double entendre. "All I said was you did a good job blowing out the candles- I was being nice."

There were times when Tony was downright grateful that Ziva didn't have the best grasp on English innuendo. This was one of those times.

“Oh I get it. Blowing must have something to do with sex, yes?” As Ziva's ire rose and her face reddened, Tony's smile spread out wider. “Does everything in English have to have a double meaning? Can I not say anything without there being some kind of hidden sexual connotation behind it?”

“Oh... There was nothing hidden about that one, Ziva.” Tony laughed, enjoying the sight of a flustered Mossad assassin squirm.

Of course, it could never last.

Tony felt her hand make sharp contact with the back of his head, wiping the smile off his face.

“Ow. Not even a full day back and you're trying to injure me again? Just for that- no cookie pudding for you!” He pointed at Ziva and she stuck he tongue out at him.

“If I hit you can I get out of eating the cookie pudding too?” McGee asked, as he looked into the brown mixture.

“How about I hit you, McGee?” Abby came at McGee threateningly with a spoon. McGee held up his hands in defense until Abby put the spoon onto his right one and closed his fingers around the handle of it for him.

“Try it McGoo...” Tony ordered. “Go on, Don't hurt Abby's feelings or I'll hurt you.” Tim rolled his eyes at Tony then held the spoon hesitantly over the bowl before finally dipping it in and taking a small bite of the stuff and chewing. The face McGee made was one that Tony wished he had a camera to capture.

“Is it supposed to make that crunching sound?” Ziva asked as McGee forced his throat muscles to contact and swallow the bite. Tony would have continued to laugh at McGee's reaction to the cookie-pudding, but was immediately silenced as Abby handed him a spoon as well.

“Your turn.”

OOOOOOOOOO

Gibbs wasted no time after stepping off the elevator and leaving Tony to his own devices to begin heading for the stairs to the Director's office.

“Morning, Boss.” Foster greeted before Gibbs reached the stairway. “Anything you need me to do this morning? I'm caught up on just about everything.” Sometimes the young man's eagerness to please was a bit much for first thing in the morning, but Gibbs was in a good mood and wouldn't bite his head off, at least not yet.

“Just watch the phones, Foster.” Was all Gibbs muttered as he ascended the stairs quickly. Entering the director's reception area he was told to wait and have a seat. Gibbs sat and drank his coffee while he sat and watched the minutes tick by on his watch. Just as he finished the last swallow of his drink, the door to Vance's office opened and the director stood in the open doorway with his arms crossed.

“Come in, Agent Gibbs. We have a lot to discuss.”

Gibbs couldn't agree more and walked into the director's office, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of Vance's desk.

“So, I hear Agent DiNozzo is back today.” Vance stated matter-of-factly.

“He is.”

“You're no doubt wondering if this means I will be reassigning Agent Foster.”

“I am.”

“He's staying put for now, Gibbs”.

“I don't need a five man team.” Gibbs argued.

“We both know DiNozzo's still a long ways away from going back into the field. His doctor has insisted the he only work half days while he's still in physical therapy and I think I'm being tolerant enough for allowing that much." Vance leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, giving off an air of condesention.

"We have high standards for our field agents for a reason, Agent Gibbs. If Agent DiNozzo fails to meet those standards then we need someone else who can. So, until he passes his physical fitness evals, he'll be riding a desk and Foster will be on your team.”

Gibbs could see that there would be no changing Vance's mind on this one, so he decided to not argue it any further, but sat back in his chair and crossed his arms to show how much he was displeased to keep his fifth wheel.

Vance ignored Gibbs' silent protest and reached for a file, flopping it over towards the other side of the desk in the direction of the former Marine.

“What's this?” Gibbs asked.

“It's a new assignment for your team.” Vance explained. "Like I said, we have a lot to discuss."

TBC.....

Chapter 13

Aaron looked at himself in the mirror and he hated what he saw. The sunken eyes, the sallow complexion and jutting cheekbones were his face, but at the same time not.

This wasn't the way things were supposed to play out. He should be a permanent fixture in the NCIS headquarters right now, working his way up the ranks, but instead he was a faded and weathered copy of the man he used to be.

Gone was the federal agent, no agency or even police department would touch him with a ten-foot pole.

Gone was his future, his dreams, his goals, his aspirations.

His reflection in the mirror morphed and changed before his eyes, he no longer saw his own face staring back at him, but he the face of his father.

He had become his father.

He hated himself for the image reflected back at him now and revolted against it as it turned his stomach.

'I told you you would never amount to nothin'-Look at you now...not such a big deal anymore, are you?' He could hear his father say in his head.

With an angry shout and a wave of disgust flashing across his senses, he drove his fist straight into his father's mocking face. Hoping it would silence the man's voice telling him how he had been right all along-

“Shut-up!” he yelled into the now broken pieces of reflective glass laying strewn about the cheap motel bathroom. “You son of a bitch, shut up!”

Just like the pieces of the mirror that now lay scattered, Aaron, the once brightly and highly polished man, was shattered and broken, never to be put back together again.

He walked out of the bathroom and back to the bed to finish his preparations. With now shaky, bloody hands and fingers, he snapped a bullet one at a time into the clips that lay out on the dirty bedspread. He had one last mission to get ready for.

As he finished his preparations he thought back with bitterness to the events that had led him to this exact point in time. How had he fallen so far, so hard and so fast? When did it all go wrong?

He knew the answer to that already:

Six months ago in Mexico.

And It was all Agent DiNozzo's fault that the only thing he had to look forward to before he died was revenge.

Six months earlier:

In the dimly lit area just outside the evidence locker, Gibbs looked over his team as they took seats at a long, folding table. The team leader liked to have strategy and brainstorming sessions here where it was quiet and removed from the bullpen. No phones ringing, no people walking by and especially most important of all, no toothpick chewing directors hovering above them to distract the team from coming up with ideas for getting their assignment planned out and executed.

Foster, Ziva and McGee each took a metal folding chair and sat, but Tony was having a hard time unfolding one with his crutches before Ziva unfolded one for him. Gibbs noted how uncomfortable Tony looked as he tried to find a position that allowed for his leg to rest without pain and showing mercy on his subordinate as Tony grew frustrated, Gibbs grabbed an extra chair and planted it in front of his senior agent with a loud clang, growling as he gently placed Tony's leg outstretched onto the other chair for him.

“Thanks, Boss.” Tony offered but Gibbs didn't respond and had already turned away, grabbing a stack of files before he began addressing the assembled group.

“Two days ago, a sailor from Norfolk, Petty Officer Roberto Marquez, was abducted just outside Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. A ransom demand for a million USD for his safe return has been made, but as you all know, the US Navy isn't in the business of paying off ransoms.”

“Question here, Gibbs....” Ziva spoke up. “Given the recent rash of kidnappings there, is not travel to that part of Mexico restricted for naval personnel for just this reason?”

“It is, but Marquez got a waiver from his commanding officer to visit his ailing mother there. He was apparently abducted just outside the hospital she's in. Most likely, they picked him at random, but didn't realize they had taken an American serviceman until they saw his ID card. ”

"So they decided to just go with it and try to get a ransom from the US Navy? Pretty Ballsy if you ask me." Tony pointed out.

"I don't think I was, DiNozzo." Gibbs shot back. Foster snickered a little, enjoying the sight of the other agent being put in his place a little and Tony shot him an irritated glance. Gibbs had noted the tension between the two agents already, but knew that most of that was due to the fact that both of them were highly competetive people and they saw each other as a threat to one another's career.

“So, do we know who the kidnappers are or where they might be holding Marquez?” McGee asked, breaking some of the tension and getting them back on track.

“The kidnappers have identified themselves as the Los Lobos de Juarez, an organized crime syndicate and drug cartel that's come to be responsible for at least five other abductions of Americans in just the last couple of months, mostly white collar employees that live in El Paso and commute to work across the border to the auto plants in Juarez.” Gibbs handed out files to each of his team members as he explained the situation.

“This particular organization as of late, has received at least half a million US dollars paid by families and some of the companies of the kidnap victims for their safe return. Unfortunately for at least two of them, when the ransom money never came, their bodies were found days later out in the desert. As far was we know, Marquez is still alive, but the deadline for the ransom pay out is in two days before they plan to execute him as well. Our assignment is to find Marquez and bring him home. ”

“So, why are we on this and not the Mexican police?” Tony asked, sitting back in his chair while he read the file casually. “Won't they be a little pissed that the gringos are coming over and doing their job for them?”

“Yeah, They probably would be.... if they knew we were coming” Gibbs replied with a slight glint in his eye.

“You mean, the Mexican government has no idea that we will be entering their country and running an operation?” Aaron asked in surprise. “Doesn't that violate a whole mess of treaties and international laws?”

“We have permission from the Mexican federal government on this and we will be backed up by the Mexican army....It's the local government in Juarez that's being kept in the dark.”

“Ah...I get it, “ Tony smiled. “This is more than just a simple extraction, isn't it?”

“There's reason to believe that the chief of police and other city government officials might be involved in one way or another with this and several other organized crime syndicates in the area.” Gibbs explained. “even the chief of police is under suspicion, corruption is rampant and we just can't trust the locals to do much of anything except leak information to the crime bosses themselves.”

“Maybe that's exactly what we should do.” Tony stated.

“What should we do, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked.

“Ya know....Leak information to the crime bosses. Maybe put the word out to the local police department that....” Tony looked across the table at his fellow teammates before his gaze landed squarely on McGee. “That there might be someone in town with some notoriety, money or fame, but maybe not so famous that they would have any good security, making said person an easy target for kidnappers to make some fast money...It would be like throwing a steak into a lion's den....there would be no way they could resist going after him.”

“Why are you looking at me, Tony?” McGee asked warily from the other end of the table.

Tony grinned.

OOOOOOOOOO

Aaron adjusted his earwig and blew out a nervous breath.

McGee too looked a little nervous or he may have been just a little bored and Foster was misinterpreting his fidgeting.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate this idea, Tony?” McGee complained yet again to the air as he sat at the lonel book signing table for the Spanish translation of 'Deep Six” no one in town seemed to be in the least bit interested in coming to. However, what he was saying was coming through loud and clear to the other agent across the country in MTAC and to the Ziva and Gibbs sitting in the nondescript van across the street from the bookstore where they surveyed the neighborhood. Foster milled around the store, pretending to be just another book shopper as he watched carefully for signs that anyone might be interested in abducting the famous, American author, Thom E. Gemcity.

“You're just upset because no one has come in wanting to get their book signed by el mas famoso arturo Americano, Thom E. Gemcity.....” Tony laughed about the sign that he knew hung behind McGee's head and the others that he had made to have hung up around the town as a way of getting word out that someone with possibly lots of money, but maybe not a high-powered celebrity would be in town. Word had also been spread to the local police department that he would in town for a book signing tour through his publicist. Tony knew it would irritate and distract the younger agent, but maybe it might help him forget his nerves. “You know the ironic thing about this is that you're probably the one with the least amount of money between all of us now thanks to you're tanking stock portfolio. So, just how much did you lose anyway?"

"Not now, Tony." McGee put his elbow onto the table and rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"Aww, you know I'm just messing with you. Don't worry, Just do what we planned and you'll do fine, McGoo.”

"Easy for you to say.” McGee grumbled and shook his head. “You're not the one sitting here waiting for God knows what.”

“Hey, don't you think I'd rather be in you shoes right now instead of being stuck here- you think I like watching you guys have all of the fun?” Tony's voice complained.

“You think this is fun, being bait for kidnappers?”

“Sure, don't you?”

“No. Only a complete idiot would think this is fun....” McGee grumbled then brightened a little. "Then again, I guess I could see how you might like doing something like this, Tony."

“Hey, now you watch it....I may be a thousand miles away, but when you get back I could still kick your....”

“DiNozzo, McGee-” Gibbs' sternly came voice over the radio. “Shut the hell up. Foster, you have a target moving in on your location at two o'clock.”

“I see her.” He whispered back. Foster looked out across the book stacks and saw a woman enter the store, the first such customer to appear since McGee was set up for the book signing in the small, downtown bookshop almost a half-hour ago. She was a young lady, no older than twenty, Latina and very pretty. She wore a very short skirt, tall, knee high boots and a tight-fitting, low-cut shirt that left little to the imagination.

She walked deliberately towards the table and McGee.

She didn't look like the typical reader of McGee's book, but they knew someone like her might be coming. Following the kidnapper's M.O, A spotter was usually sent in first to assess their potential victim's security or lack there-of in this case. Other times, people were just randomly taken from the street, such as was the case with Petty Officer Marquez, but with higher-profile targets, like wealthy auto executives or potentially rich American authors, they tended to do a little research first, sending in someone that wouldn't necessarily raise any red flags, such as a young girl like the one Foster saw approach McGee. She could be the spotter or she could be just a regular customer, but she fit the profile and Foster kept a close eye on her while trying to appear interested in the books.

“Hola.” McGee greeted as she grabbed a book from the stack beside him.

“Hello.” The girl responded in accented and broken English. “I like...you, ah...tu libro, um book...please. I am...big fan.” Just by looking, he could see that she was lying and had most likely never heard of him or his book before as she held the book out for him to take.

“Sign your book?” McGee asked.

“Si....yes.” She nodded with a big smile, that was less than genuine.

“Alright. What's your name?”

“Marisol.”

McGee took the book from the girl's hands and signed it with a flourish.

"Okay, Marisol, here you go." He handed the book back and smiled.

“Gracias.” She thanked him.

“De nada.” McGee responded, using what little he remembered of seventh grade Spanish.

“You...ah...here alone?” she asked, looking around.

“Yeah.”

“You have....girlfriend, no?” She looking him over with a hint of seduction in her voice.

“Uh, no...no just me.”

“If you lonely....I help...” She made her intentions clear by lifting the hem of her skirt a little higher, showing off her upper thigh and arching her eyebrows.

“Oh....uh...” McGee gulped and nearly stumbled over his words as he heard Tony chuckle into his ear. “H-How?”

“We go disco....you and me....baila, dance, no?” she shook her hips to demonstrate.

“Um, uh....I ....”

“Tell her you'll go McGee....she wants to get you alone....she might be in with Los Lobos.” Tony spoke into his earwig.

“Well, I...” McGee hesitated.

“Do it, McGee.” Gibbs agreed with Tony's assessment, urging him to get on with it.

“Oh, well....okay.” McGee told the girl and she smiled brightly.

“You meet at disco...across street....when you finish, si?”

“Sure...I'll be done at here at 7 pm.”

“Bien...Adios” She smiled seductively as she turned to leave.

“Adios.” McGee finger waved and watched her tail as she left the table, paid for her book and exited the store.

“Way to score McGee....Now tell me, was she hot?”

“Shut up, Tony.” McGee blew out the breath that he felt he had been holding the whole time the girl had been in the store.

Across the street Ziva and Gibbs watched the girl leave the bookstore.

“Get a tail on her, Ziva.” Gibbs turned to her. “I'll watch the store.”

“On it.” Ziva climbed out of the van and discreetly followed the girl as she walked down the street. Several times the girl turned around as if she could sense she was being followed, but Ziva had always been very skilled at keeping a distance that would go unnoticed by anyone she might be tailing and the girl never saw her.

Going around a corner into a dirty alleyway, the girl whipped out a cell phone. Ziva took refuge near a dumpster where she wouldn't be seen, but she could hear the girl's side of the conversation as she rapidly spoke in Spanish, a language Ziva had been speaking fluently since she was fourteen.

“Felipe....it's Lucia. Yes, I went in....It looks good, no one was on him, he should be easy....He's to meet me at the disco at 7 pm, do you want me to go, or are you just going to take him?....Okay....no, you promised 3000 pesos to check him out, you better pay....no, no no, Felipe....3000 no less....fine, 2500, but if you don't pay me by tomorrow I'm never doing this again.” Angrily, the girl swore and flipped closed her phone, walking off and smack dab in Ziva who now held her Sig to the girl's head. Taken by surprise, she raised he hands to the air.

“So, Marisol, or is it Lucia?” Ziva began in Spanish as she quickly frisked her for weapons. “You had better come with me, we have a lot we need to talk about.”

OOOOOOOOOO

From the back of the van, Ziva and Gibbs gathered from Lucia, that she was not actually a part of the Los Lobos gang, but her boyfriend, Felipe was and had been using her to scope out targets for extortion or kidnapping. He had been paying her for each person she brought in and somewhere along the line they had begun a serious relationship and Felipe had begun to open up to her about various operations going on within the Los Lobos cartel. Besides kidnapping and extortion, the major revenue maker for the gang was drug smuggling across the border into El Paso.

She confirmed that it was indeed the Los Lobos gang that had taken the sailor and that he was still alive as far as she knew at a ranch house outside of town. She wasn't certain of the exact location, but she did know that all of their kidnap victims had been taken there so far and that Felipe would be coming in to town that night to abduct their next victim, Thom E. Gemcity.

While McGee wasn't thrilled with the prospect of purposefully getting kidnapped, it was possibly the only way for the team to locate the missing sailor. Armed with only a small transmitter hidden in his clothes, he was waiting outside the disco where he was to be meeting the woman he met at the bookstore. If all went well, he would be taken and the transmitter would send off a signal the entire time, so that Tony at MTAC could follow their movements and lead them straight to the ranch where the sailor was. Then, the Mexican Army was to be called in and do the actual raid, swooping in with helicopters and dozens of trucks in an effort to wipe out one more cartel in their war against the violence that has plagued the country since the crackdown on the drug trade began a few years ago.

McGee waited alone outside the disco, but knowing that so man eyes were watching, brought him a measure of comfort. Foster had volunteered to stay with him, but everyone agreed that McGee alone would make a more tantalizing target if he didn't have another person around to possibly scare off the gang's plans to abduct him.

Instead, Foster stayed in the van, charged with keeping searching Maria for any weapons and keeping a close eye on her while the op went down. He hated being relegated to such a lowly task as watching an unarmed girl who wasn't going anywhere, and his attention had been drawn to the monitors in the van that showed McGee standing alone outside when a dark SUV pulled up along side him.

As if on cue, four black hooded men sprang forth from the vehicle and launched onto the hapless undercover agent and pulled him into their car, speeding off with a squeal of the tires. Foster could read from the expression on Gibbs' face, that he wasn't a big fan of this plan either, but he had put his faith in McGee's abilities and in those of his team to pull this off.

“Transmitter is receiving a signal, Boss. And we have a satellite visual on your location.” Foster heard DiNozzo say from across the country.

“Keep the satellite trained on that black SUV, DiNozzo.”

“We got it...It's heading south out of town.”

“Ziva, you got that Mexican Colonel on the horn?”

“Yes, Gibbs.” Ziva relayed from her location

“Tell him to stand by for the location and to move in only when I say to.”

Ziva nodded and spoke into her headset in Spanish to the commander of the Mexican forces that would be raiding the ranch.

Foster had been so enraptured by the goings on that he hadn't been paying close attention the woman he was to be guarding. She had never been armed that much was true, but on under her foot, inside of her boots, she had hidden as small pager for emergencies just like this. Now that Foster had his back to her for the moment, she used that opportunity to unzip her her boot and pull it out discreetly. Even with her hands tied behind her back and unable to see it she was able to send out the warning, letting Felipe know that they were about to be raided.

OOOOOOOOOO

Everything had been going according to plan, he had been kidnapped, herded into the dark SUV, roughed up a little as they shoved him to the floor of the vehicle and they were almost out of town before a beeping sound rang out across the cab of the SUV from the driver. The driver pulled out an old-style pager the likes of which McGee hadn't seen in years. One look at the thing and the driver immediately swore and floored the gas, shouting to the others in the back with Tim.

McGee didn't know Spanish very well, but he gathered from the raised voices that followed after that that they were not happy campers. The next thing he knew, a gun was shoved into his face as his captors shouted at him in Spanish.

He didn't know what to say or how to respond, he could only curl up into a ball as his captors began raining fists and feet into him. He thought for sure that a bullet heading for his head would come next, but what he didn't expect was for the car door to open while he was grabbed and forcefully tossed from the moving vehicle. Flying through the air towards the moving ground, he thought for sure that this was it. This was, quite literally, the end of the road for him. But when he landed on the ground with a bone jarring thud and rolled several times across the asphalt highway before coming to a stop on his back, he realized that he definitely not dead, but in serious pain. The SUV sped off and all he could do was watch it leave him behind in the middle of nowhere.

For some reason, all he could think of at the moment was how he was grateful he had thought to take the transmitter off of himself and place it under a seat as soon as they had thrown him in, otherwise, if they lost the satellite feed on the car, they may never find the place where Los Lobos was hiding the sailor.

He lay in the ground and his vision grew dim, his chest aching from what he knew had to be at least bruised ribs, if not broken ones, he hoped that he had done enough to get that sailor home. With the cool of the evening descending upon him, he felt his eyes grow heavy and he gave into the darkness.

When he woke again, the first thing he recognized was Ziva's face and the touch of the cool cloth to his forehead, causing him to wince. He wasn't sure how he ended up in the back of the van that Gibbs and Ziva had been using for surveillance, but he figured that the satellite had given them his location and they had gone after him after things went south.

With a groan he tried to get up, but Ziva pushed him back down.

“Hold still, Tim. You are hurt.”

“Ugh, what happened?” He asked. “They tossed me out...I don't get it...Why'd they do that?”

“They were tipped off.” Ziva explained. “They knew the raid was coming.”

“What? How?” he asked, he looked around and saw Gibbs at the wheel, fuming as he drove at speeds that were unsafe for jets let alone conversion vans. Then he saw Foster in the other corner of the interior, his head hung low, when he looked up, McGee saw the pained expression on his face, the remorse and guilt evident.

“I'm sorry. McGee....I really...I don't know....It's all my fault.”

“Damn fucking straight its your fault, Foster. You're lucky I'm not dumping your ass out here in the middle of Mexico.” Gibbs nearly shouted from the driver's seat. “I gave you a simple task, but was it too hard to keep two eyes on that girl? You nearly got McGee killed and now that sailor is dead because of you. You're off my team as soon as we get back to Washington and if I have it my way, there won't be a federal agency within the entire country that will hire for so much as a mail-boy after this.”

Still dazed, McGee tried to focus on Ziva as she tended to his various cuts and scrapes, but it was a losing battle against the pain and he gave into the relief unconsciousness gave him once again.

Things were pretty fuzzy after that as he vaguely recalled being taken to a hospital and being treated for some broken ribs and a concussion before they gave him a bunch of medicine. The next thing her knew they were on a plane back to Washington where he slept the entire way back. He sort of remembered Gibbs driving him back to his place after they landed and Tony insisting he take his bed while he took the couch, but his muddled mind wasn't clear until the next day when he found himself tangled up in the sheets of Tony's bed, his side aching and his head pounding away.

Getting up slowly, he heard voices coming from the kitchen. Taking a full minute to roll himself out of bed and make his way to the door, Tim walked down the hall, stopping in front of a mirror in the hallway and being shocked at his bruised and swollen face, he looked downright freakish. Holding his side he headed for the entrance of the kitchen slowly as he listened in on the conversation he could hear Gibbs and Tony having.

“So, did they ever find the sailor?” He heard Tony ask.

“Yeah, he was shot in the head, most likely as soon as the warning went out that the raid was coming their way. The Mexican army was able to capture most of the gang, including that Felipe guy. And Lucia, our girl with the beeper, has disappeared into their custody too, but I don't really give a shit what they do to her or the rest of them.” Tim heard a fist make contact with a hard surface. “Damn! I should have made sure we did a more thorough search of her when she first got in the van.”

“But if Foster had kept his attention on the girl like he was supposed to she never would have had the chance....”

Tim took that moment to finally cross the corner into the kitchen and join the other two in the room.

“What's going on?” He asked.

“Hey, sleeping beauty...'bout time you woke up.” Tony greeted him from the table with his usual grin, his foot propped up on another chair as a bowl of cereal grew soggy before him. Tim recalled then the events from the last couple of days and bit down a groan as he walked in.

“Sit McGee.” Gibbs put down his coffee mug and ordered from the other end of the kitchen as he pulled out a white paper bag from the cabinet, dumping out a brown prescription bottle.

Even with his brain working at only a half-speed at the moment, he followed the orders and took up a chair next to Tony, holding his throbbing head in his hands.

“Here, take these, they're for your head and your ribs” Gibbs shook out two pills and handed them to Tim with a glass of water before he poured a bowl of cereal for him and slid it across the table to him. “Here, eat something then go back to bed. Ducky will be by to check on you in a little while and until he says otherwise, you stay in that bed, got it?”

“Sure, Boss.” Weakly, McGee responded automatically, even though the whole idea of staying in the Senior agent's home for any length of time was somewhat surreal to him.

Without another word, Gibbs headed for the door and out into the pre-dawn morning mist. Tony grabbed his crutches and made to follow him, but stopped before he reached the door and turned around, his expression serious for once.

“Just so you know, Probie...The whole Mexico thing was a giant SNAFU just waiting to happen and a lot of it's my fault for even even suggesting the plan, but you did okay.... really, you did good and even though Gibbs won't say it, he's proud of you....and....maybe so am I.” Tony turned and left a stunned and confused Tim sitting at the table, wondering when he had stepped into the Twilight Zone, but since neither Gibbs nor Tony were sporting pointy beards, he was at least certain this wasn't an evil alternate reality like the one from Star Trek.

"You can use my bed, Probie," Tony called out as he hobbled out the door without turning around. "but touch my TV and you die.”

Despite his pain and tiredness, Tim grinned a little until he heard Gibbs' car pull away.

OOOOOOOOOO

Six months later:

Aaron looked over the last of his full clips on the bed and the other assorted items he would need. He had plenty of ammunition.

He was ready.

Looking back on that night in Mexico, he focused his rage again on DiNozzo once again, the man had been all he could focus on since he was disgraced. After all, it had been that man's idea to send McGee in as bait, not his. Why was he taking all of the blame for what went wrong?

Because of that cocky agent and his plan, he was kicked off of Gibbs' team. Because of him, Aaron found his only solace was in drinking, just like his father had when his life had fallen apart. And now, because of DiNozzo, his career, his life was in ruins and he had become the kind of person he had hated the most all of his life: a drunk, worthless man just like his father.

But he wasn't going to let it end this way.

He'd get his vengence.

He knew how to get at DiNozzo. He'd done his research.

He grabbed the open bottle of tequila on the nightstand and swallowed a large mouthful, letting it burn its way down his throat and into his stomach, bringing him the only warmth he could seem to find these days. Carefully, he packed up his weapons in his duffel bag and headed for the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Loading up his car with the last of his personal possessions, Aaron climbed into the driver's seat and drove off hastily towards his intended destination: Long Island, New York.

TBC.....

Chapter 14

Pain was all he knew.

His lungs constricted, making it hard to take in a full breath and the burning in his muscles was ceaseless as his torture continued unabated.

“Stop...Stop....Please...You're killing me.” Tony tried to wheeze out between breaths before he trotted to a walk then dramatically fell down onto the grass, the last of his energy and drive spent.

Quite certain that the end was near, he prayed out loud:

“Dear God, please just kill me now!”

A dark shadow loomed over him with a menacing scowl.

“We have only gone a mile so far.” Ziva responded with her hand on her hips, continuing to jog in place without a hint of effort as he remained immobile on the ground, watching her.

“Easy for you to say, Ms. 'I-run-ten-miles-a-day'....But if you recall, I haven't run much in the last eight months....give me a break.”

“I do not run ten miles a day, Tony. Only six....Besides, Gibbs was quite clear that now that you are all healed up and no longer in need of any crutches or canes that it was time for you to get back into shape and he put me in charge of making sure you do. The director is not going to allow you back into the field until you pass that physical eval next week and if you do not pass your run, guess who Gibbs is going to blame?”

“And guess who he's gonna blame when I die before I even make it to the eval?” He panted then groaned as he sat up, sweat pouring from every single one of his pores despite the cool, autumn breeze blowing in.

“We only have another half mile to go before we make it to your place, I had planned on a longer run today, but I suppose I shall be merciful and we can finish there.”

“Gee, so generous.” He complained sarcastically.

“Come on. We will go slow, I promise.” She held out a hand to him and helped pull him off the ground.

“Fine.” he grumbled as he got up and followed her as she took up a slower run. He managed to keep up with her at the new pace without having to stop, but once they made to the steps leading up to his apartment building, he had to grab hold of the railing and bend over to catch his breath.

“What have you been doing twice a week when you go to physical therapy?” Ziva asked. “Besides hit on your physical therapist?”

“Well, not running six-minute miles, Zee-Vah, that's for sure. And I haven't hit on her...much...she's just as much a sadistic power-monger like a certain Mossad super-spy that shall remain anonymous. ”

“We were hardly going that fast, Tony. I set a firm seven-minute mile pace, one which I know you can do.”

Tony sat down on the front step and put his head between his knees, willing his heart to slow down before it exploded.

“could have fooled me...besides, I only need to run a nine-minute mile to pass the test, what gives?”

“If I have to have you on my six when we are chasing suspects on foot, then I expect you be right up there with me or beating me to them like you used to.”

“Ah, the 'ol foot chase....I do miss those...” Tony began wistfully, thinking back on his days in the field; eight months was a very long time to be so removed from what he loved doing.

Sure, he had been cleared for crime scene investigations a couple of months ago, but his reinstatement as a full-time field agent was still pending until he could pass that test next week. He hadn't been too worried about passing the marksmanship portion, Gibbs had made sure of that by taking him to the range at least weekly.

McGee had helped him brush up on some of his computer skills that he had been falling somewhat behind on before his fall, but he had gotten quite a bit of practice those first few weeks at work when he was relegated to mostly background research and other computer searches. He couldn't ever compete with McGee's skills on the computer, and admittedly, he had just learned how to type using more than just his index fingers, but he was twice as fast as he had been before his accident.

Then of course Ziva couldn't be left out of all of the fun as Gibbs had practically assigned her the mission to whip his ass in shape and she was doing a pretty bang-up job so far in pushing him to his physical limits which he wouldn't have been as motivated to do if he had tried to work out on his own. She was like his own personal drill sergeant.

“I guess you're right...I need to get up to speed again.” He acquiesced.

“That is the spirit...Now, how about some push-ups?”

“What?!” He looked up at her in disbelief as a smile played across her lips.

Another half hour later and Tony was quite certain that Ziva was enjoying herself a little too much at his expense when she laughed at him lying face down on the ground after he collapsed into a puddle of goo, his muscles pushed well past the point of failure from the never ending sets of push ups and sit ups she made him perform.

“Alright, Tony....I suppose you have suffered enough today.”

“Ugh...” was all he could say as he hugged the ground.

“How about we go up to your place and grab some water?”

He rolled onto his back . “You're gonna have to drag me up there, ya know.”

“You are such trauma queen.” She shook her head as he sat up.

“I think you mean 'drama queen' and no, I'm not.....I just don't think my body is accepting any more commands from me anymore.”

Ziva just snorted then took off without him towards his apartment building.

“Hey...you just gonna leave me here?” He whined.

“Yes, Tony...Have fun...” She waved behind her with a smirk.

Tony groaned then rolled up and went after her, albeit, slowly.

She was in the elevator in his building by the time he caught up to her and he made it just in time before the doors closed on him.

“Thanks for waiting.” He grumbled.

“My pleasure.” She grinned up at him and there it was: that look in her eyes that he caught every once in a while, a look he wasn't sure what to make of. Was it attraction? Maybe it was, he was good looking enough, he thought and never had any trouble getting dates and picking up women, so it could be that she was just . But with her, it was something else altogether; something he could never quite put his finger on.

He would have to make do with just these glances though. He was her partner and he wasn't going to go and spoil all that by being stupid and chasing after his animal impulses and he knew that she wouldn't either.

“So....”Ziva began, cutting the tension. “Glad to be back in your own place?”

“Yeah. As fun as hanging out at Gibbs' place was, a man needs his own space.”

“Right. It is hard to date when the boss is around, no?” She pointed out. “So, are you ready to jump in the saddle again, back to your playboy lifestyle?

“You have no idea...”

The elevator opened and Tony stepped out with Ziva right alongside as they headed for his door. Tony fished for his key, which he had tucked under his shoelaces just over the tongue of the shoe so it wouldn't be poking him from inside the pocket while they ran. He pulled out the key and slid it into the lock, but was surprised to find the door was already unlocked.

“Huh...That's weird.” He thought out loud. “I could have sworn I locked the door.”

Ziva was immediately on edge.

“You did lock it. I saw you.”

“Great...someone would try to break in when I don't have a weapon on me.” He grumbled quietly.

“I am armed.” Ziva produced a small caliber handgun from a hidden holster in her waistband.

“Damn, Ziva. You even run with a handgun?”

“Always be armed...Ziva's rule number one.” She explained. Tony looked at her with raised eyebrows. “What? If Gibbs and Abby can have rules, then so can I.” She defended herself.

With a nod letting him know that she was ready, he slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door. Swiftly, Ziva was inside, scanning the room with her weapon. Nothing appeared to be amiss and was just as he had left it an hour before when Ziva first came to his door. Tony stayed close to Ziva's side as they swept the apartment for signs that anyone might still be inside, but a thorough search found no one.

“Guess I didn't lock the door as well as I thought....” He mused as Ziva holstered her weapon then walked into the kitchen and went into the fridge pulling out two bottled waters. She opened one for herself and handed one to Tony, which he took and greedily gulped down.

“I should get going....” She began.

“Why? We have all day off...We could watch a movie.” He suggested hopefully, not wanting to let her go just yet.

Tony hated to admit that life back in his own apartment was somewhat lonely after he moved out of Gibbs' place, perhaps that was why he had stayed there so much longer than he had meant to in the beginning. From the get go, when Tony first asked Gibbs how long he needed to stay, he had balked when the older man told him he could move out when he could, as Gibbs had so eloquently stated, ' haul out your crap on your own'. At first, he couldn't wait to get back into his own place, but as he grew stronger once again and it became inevitable that he would need to leave, he had found that he would miss having someone else around to talk to, even if Gibbs rarely conversed back.

After he was well enough to make it down the stairs into the basement, he would just talk while Gibbs worked on the boat and that was usually enough for the two of them, but slowly there were the times when his mentor would actually open up about his life and one night after a few too many coffee mugs of bourbon, he and Gibbs had discussed things Tony never imagined he would tell another living soul.

They talked long into the night about fathers, about what a bastard his own father had been, but how he still sort of longed for the kind of love a father was supposed to show his son. Then somehow the conversation drifted over to past relationships, Gibbs dissed on his ex-wives while Tony admitted what a mistake he had made falling for Jeanne, but how he had actually considered what life might be like married to her. Then, much to Tony's utter surprise, Shannon and Kelley came up in that talk when he asked Gibbs if he ever regretted marrying any of his wives.

Tony knew right away that he had dug too deep, but his boss answered him honestly and explained how he never regretted taking the risk of getting married to any of them, most especially of all, his beloved Shannon. That night he saw a side to Gibbs that he had never seen before: a vulnerable side. It was sort of like seeing Superman react to kryptonite in that you don't expect a man like him, a stoic and hardened Marine to show any hint of weakness, but everyone has their Achilles heel and Gibbs' was his long-lost wife and daughter and for the first and hopefully last time ever, he saw Gibbs' eyes well up with unshed tears.

The next morning after that discussion, Tony knew it was time to move out.

Somehow, that openness he had shared with Gibbs scared him a little more than he was comfortable to admit and the older man did little to stop him. They both knew that Tony was completely healed then.

So now Tony stood in his apartment hoping that Ziva wouldn't go so soon, because that meant another afternoon spent by himself, watching the paint peel. He could see that she wasn't completely against the idea, but he knew that she would say 'no'. Not because she didn't enjoy his company, because he knew that she did, but maybe because she might enjoy it a little too much.

“Perhaps another time, Tony. I have much to do today.”

“Ah, I get it....Washing your hair? Doing your nails? Going shoe shopping?” He jibed her sarcastically as he leaned against the counter, knowing that unlike most women that had a day off, she would likely spend the afternoon sharpening her knives or cleaning her already immaculate handguns.

“You obviously know me so well....” She grinned and headed for the door, pausing before she left. “Same time tomorrow?”

“It's Sunday tomorrow...You don't really expect me to run on a holy day, do you?”

“Tony, your idea of a Sunday has little to do with being holy and more to do with being lazy.”

“The church of DiNozzo is very strict in it's rules about physical exertion on Sunday, unless of course, it's basketball.” He smiled as he batted his eyes.

Ziva shook her head.

“Fine. Then was shall play basketball. It is a good aerobic activity.”

“This should be fun." He grinned. "Especially since you suck at basketball.”

“Not as much as you do at running long distances.”

“That's hitting below the belt there, Missy.” He jokingly sobered, pretending to be hurt, but enjoying the light in her eyes just before she turned to leave, talking as she walked away down the hall.

“Bright and early, Tony. Prepare to have your hairy butt given to you.”

“That's have my ass handed to, Ziva and I think we both know who's going to be doing the ass handing out tomorrow.” He called out loudly after her. Just then his neighbor across the hall took that opportunity to walk out of her door and shoot him an annoyed look. He smiled and waved to her sheepishly.

“Hi...Sorry....” He apologized weakly.

She shook her curler covered head and grabbed the newspaper outside of her door, still glaring at him before she retreated back into her apartment.

Tony walked back into his place and shut the door behind him and sighed as he leaned back against the door. Alone again.

That's when he noticed the envelope sitting on the small table next to his door. He hadn't noticed it before in all of the charged excitement when he and Ziva cleared his place. They had been so focused on making sure no one was inside that he had skipped right over it. But now it stuck out like a fluorescent shirt at a funeral and he was drawn to it. It hadn't been there before he left, he knew that much.

He blanched when he picked it up and recognized his name scrawled across the top of it in handwriting he knew so intimately, even if it had been such a long time since he had last seen it. With shakey hands he pondered what he should do with it. He had paid the price for opening mysterious envelopes before, and intellectually he knew he should take it directly to Abby and have it examined, but his heart wanted him to rip it open and see what had made the man contact him after all this time.

Holding his breath, he decided that he couldn't wait to see what was written inside.

Anthony,

Piscataway National Park, Mockley Point Rd to end. Turn right onto dirt road.

Come alone.

-Father

He read it over and over in confusion. His father wanted to meet him and he had gone through all of the trouble of having someone break into his place to leave this message for him? It didn't make any sense. He could have just called, unless he was afraid that someone was listening in.

Tony had a terrible feeling well up in his stomach and he was torn between taking off right away and calling Gibbs. But this was a family matter and his father wanted to see him alone so he had to be in some kind of trouble for him to want to meet him after all of these years of silence between them. A part of him just wanted to crumple up the note and forget that he ever tried to contact him, but truth be told, it was too hard to just ignore.

Even though the man had been a distant and seemingly uncaring figure for the greater part of his life, he could still remember the times when that hadn't always been the case and his mind flashed back to the summer before his mother died. His father dragging him to all of those civil war reenactments. He hated it at first, as he was the poop-boy after all, but he and his father alone for two weeks had been the first and only time they had ever bonded in any sort of way. His mother died later that summer and his father had been emotionally incapable of raising Tony on his own, leaving that instead to nannies and boarding schools to do it for him.

Despite the coldness his father showed, he had always desperately hoped for his father's attention. But after so many years of not getting any unless he had failed to live up to the DiNozzo name in some way, he gave up trying to please the old man. But now with his father asking him to meet him, he wasn't sure what to make of it all.

Was this the reconciliation they both needed?

He desperately needed an answer, so before he could talk himself out of it, he was packing his gear and weapon, heading out of town at break neck speeds.

OOOOOOOOOO

Gibbs tried to work on his boat. Truth was, his heart just wasn't in it right at the moment. Things were quiet, but strangely too quiet for him. He had grown accustomed to the sounds of the television going on upstairs or of laughter coming from the kitchen between Tony and his teammates. But now that Tony had moved back into his own place, things had become oppressively serene in his home.

He never thought he would see the day that he didn't welcome the silence.

With a frustrated sigh, he gave tossed his paintbrush into the mason jar filled with turpentine and decided he needed a break from his down time.

Without even thinking, he put himself on automatic pilot and drove across town until he found himself at headquarters and in the bullpen. It was quiet here as well, being a Saturday morning and without his agents nearby he was still distracted by their absence, but there was always paperwork to be done and he got on it.

It was an hour later before the phone rang on Tony's desk. Gibbs had half a mind to just ignore it as it was most likely from a new girlfriend, but after the third ring he got up and strode across the office to answer it and tell whomever it was that his senior agent was not there.

“Special Agent Gibbs.” He answered.

“I'm sorry, I was trying to reach a Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.”

“This is his phone. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Perhaps. I'm Sergeant Allen Sanders from the New York State Police, I was needing to get in contact with Agent DiNozzo. He is listed as the next of kin to Vincent DiNozzo.”

“That's his father. What's going on?” Gibbs asked on edge.

“He's gone missing. A housekeeper and a security guard at his residence were found unconscious at his home this morning by one of his business associates when he failed to show up for a meeting. There appears to be no sign of Mr. DiNozzo and we have reason to believe this to be a possible kidnapping.”

“Has the housekeeper or the guard given any statements?”

“No, they're both still unconscious at the hospital here, it looks like the security guard was attacked and then injected with a sedative before the kidnapper broke inside the main home, drugged the maid as she slept then drugged we figure that Mr. DiNozzo may have been sedated as well, since there was no sign of a struggle and drag marks leading to some tire tracks through the back entrance.”

"Ransom demands?"

"Not yet."

“Video footage?”

“We have our forensic specialists on it. All that can be made out so far is a man in black and a ski mask. Look, Agent Gibbs, we've got it covered over here as far as the investigation goes, but we still need Agent DiNozzo to answer some questions.”

“You think he might be a suspect?”

“We just want to rule it out. Do you know where he might have been between midnight and eight am?”

“He was here working until ten p.m. I was here with him.”

“But you don't know where he went after that?” Gibbs sighed in frustration.

“No.”

“Then conceivably he could have had time to travel up here....”

“Listen. I know where you are going with this and you can stop right there.” Gibbs cut him off sharply.” DiNozzo had nothing to do with his father disappearing.”

“I have to ask Agent Gibbs. It's my job. We've learned that Mr. DiNozzo and his son weren't on the best of terms and I would be remiss if I didn't look into it. Now, do you have a cell phone number I can reach him at-”

“I'll call him and call you back.” Gibbs responded curtly, hanging up on the man before he could go any further. He slammed the phone down in anger. He knew there was no way that Tony could be involved with the disappearance of his father, he could barely talk about the man let alone want to kidnap him.

After taking a moment to collect himself from his blazing anger, he picked up the receiver again, this time calling Tony's home number.

The machine picked up and Gibbs wasn't too surprised as the younger man was most likely out enjoying his weekend off, going to see a movie or scour the town looking for his next conquest. Sighing, he hung up and dialed Tony's cell.

This time when there was no answer, Gibbs swore out loud, drawing the attention of some of the other agents on weekend duty, but he didn't give a damn what they thought.

“Shit, DiNozzo, answer your damn phone.” He muttered after he tried again, getting Tony's voice mail.

“Where the hell are you?”

OOOOOOOOOO

Aaron's hands shook as he waited, sitting on the edge of his bumper. He would have been more captivated by the beautiful view of the river beside him, but it had been several hours since his last drink and he didn't have anything left in the tequila bottle to calm the quakes coursing through his body.

He could hear the muffled cries from the man inside the trunk as he banged from the inside and begged to be let out, but he ignored them and hugged himself a little tighter against the cold front moving in. Rain was threatening, but he would wait here all day and night no matter the weather until his last mission was completed.

The events of the last day had been clear despite the pain that withdrawal from alcohol was wreaking on his system. He had become so used to the constant stream of numbing relief that being inebriated brought him, that he was wasn't sure how to deal with his conflicting emotions.

He had moments of clarity now and again where he regretted what he was doing, but those thoughts would go away and melt into the background whenever he remembered the pain the last few months had brought him.

Thinking back on his last days as an NCIS agent helped focus his resolve. Being fired from Gibbs' team had indeed been a big blow to Aaron's self-esteem and that first night home after a thorough reaming from his ex-boss and a formal reprimand placed in his jacket, had been devastating. He wasn't used to failure, especially not on that scale. It simply didn't happen to him. He had been blindsided by his own shortcomings and didn't know how to deal with them. Going home that night, he nearly crumbled, finding a dark corner to contemplate his future or what was left of it anyway.

The whole Mexican fiasco had been DiNozzo's plan, but the other agent was getting none of the blame from Gibbs. Somehow, Gibbs' golden boy was coming out smelling like roses while he was finding himself facing transfer to the cyber crimes unit in the basement.

The basement of all places!

He was to have his field status revoked, perhaps permanently and placed as a researcher for at least a year.

He burned at his demotion, one he knew he didn't deserve and the more he sat in the dark, the more he thought and the more he came to despise DiNozzo.

What made it even worse was the knock at his door late that evening.

He should have never answered it.

But he did and on the other side he found Agent DiNozzo standing there with a bottle of Jack in one hand and grin plastered across his face.

“Hey Probie...” Aaron hated being called that, but held tongue as the other agent shoved the bottle of whiskey into his hands and let himself in, hobbling on his crutches.

“Agent DiNozzo, what are you doing here? It's one o'clock in the morning....”

“Yeah, I know...Gibbs is still at the office, so I took a cab...Listen about everything...”

“I don't think you should be here.”

"You got any glasses?"

DiNozzo let himself into the kitchen and dug around in the cupboards until he found a couple of shot glasses. He poured himself a drink and handed one to Aaron. Foster made to hand it back.

“Probie....” Tony stopped him with a serious expression “I'm only gonna say this once then I'll go. " He downed the shot in one gulp, making a face at it's burning and bitter taste.

"Shit happens. That's life and you move on. That's the only advice I'm going to give you and for what it's worth, it wasn't all of your fault. Sure, you made a mistake. Lots of mistakes were made. Trust me I know a lot about making mistakes...Hell, I wouldn't be using these crutches right now if I was perfect.”

“What exactly are you trying to say here Agent DiNozzo?”

“That you don't need to give up so easily.”

DiNozzo left shortly after that, leaving Aaron to fume. How dare that man come to his place unannounced and tell him what to do. His life was in a shambles enough as it was and he was telling him to suck it up and drive on. The nerve of the man!

That's when he had his first shot from that damn bottle of whiskey DiNozzo left sitting out on his counter. He always told himself he would never hit the bottle like his father had, but out of anger, frustration and a desperation to escape from the thoughts running through his head, he drank and he drank until he could feel no more and he passed out on his couch.

The next morning he reported to cyber crimes hungover. His performance his first day was far less than spectacular and it all went downhill from there. After a month and a poor performance review, he found solace more and more often from his life at the bottom of a liquor bottle. It was shocking even to him how quickly everything fell apart around him after that and how swiftly his new addiction had taken over his life.

The last straw had been the day he came in still a little drunk from the previous night. He tried to hide it, but he felt ill and had to excuse himself to the rest room. It would be his luck that as he was sick in the toilet, Agent DiNozzo would be waiting for him after he came out.

“You look like shit, Foster.”

Aaron ignored him as he shouldered past and washed his hands.

“I might also add that you smell like a brewery that fell into a moonshine still.”

“Leave me alone, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Look, Probie....” Tony grabbed his arm, but Aaron tugged his elbow back in irritation.

“Don't call me Probie...I'm not on Gibbs' team anymore...”

“You're still a Probie, Probie...” Tony sneered, then softened a bit. “Look...I'm trying to help here, but you need to get your head screwed back on straight again if you want to get back to field status. There are places that can help you....”

Tony walked over and for the first time Aaron saw the cane he had heard rumors that Gibbs had made for his agent. It didn't bother him until he got a good look at it right at that moment. The attention to detail made in its craftsmanship, the care put into its creation spoke of a fondness for DiNozzo that Aaron could just not fathom.

Then suddenly, it was as though everything became crystal clear to him. From Mexico to that damn bottle of whiskey to that very moment in the men's room, he realized the world was completely upside down and it was all this man's fault.

He was surprised almost as much as DiNozzo, by his sudden hatred and when his hand clenched into a tight fist, Aaron sent it flying into the other man's face, making contact with his nose, feeling the crunch of its cartilage under his knuckles.

DiNozzo fell to the floor and lay on the ground moaning as he cupped his nose in pain, blood seeping through his fingers. Aaron was still shaking by the time the bathroom door opened.

“Tony? Gibbs is looking....Shit...” McGee ran in and helped Tony to sit up.

“Foster, What did you do?”

Breaking DiNozzo's nose had been satisfying but it was only a temporary balm and it didn't take long for him to find himself cleaning out his desk, no longer a federal agent.

He gave up trying after that. There wasn't an agency or even a police department in the entire country that would hire a drunk, ex-federal emploee that punched out a fellow agent.

The weeks passed and he languished in a never ending cycle of booze and hatred, Spiralling out of control until he found himself actually coming up with a plan. He became fixated on finding a way to get back at DiNozzo for taking all the he had worked so hard to achieve away from him.

It wasn't much of a plan at first, mostly just an idea, a suggestion to himself that he would never actually act upon, but as time passed and he became less and less of the man he had tried so hard to become, he gave into his addiction and obsession, letting them control his waking hours until the only thing he had left was his desperate need for numbness and payback.

After his money finally ran out and he lost his job at a burger joint, he knew the end would be coming soon. He was beyond anyone's help. But his anger held fast and he remembered the conversation he overheard that first week he had been assigned to Gibbs' team regarding Tony's father and that gave him the idea that he could actually go through with his revenge.

At the time, he had done a simple background check and found that DiNozzo senior was a CEO of a major international shipping business and the only remaining member of Tony's immediate family. It had angered Aaron even then that DiNozzo had led such a charmed life as a child, born with a silver spoon tucked firmly into his mouth while Foster had spent his formative years just trying to avoid his father's drunken rages and heavy fists. Aaron had to scrape, claw and fight his way to the top, while DiNozzo had everything handed to him.

It certainly explained why the man felt he was so superior to everyone else. He never had to work for anything growing up and now Foster drawn the conclusion that Tony had gone into police work simply in order to fulfill some fantasy of being like the cops in the movies to which he was constantly referencing.

Finally, just a few days ago, had set his plan into motion. Driving up to Long Island and secretly reconnoitering the DiNozzo estate at night, he learned all he needed to get inside to the multi-millionaire just by watching. He learned that the security guard that worked the estate at night was sneaking naps in the guard booth just inside of the main gate and he could be easily subdued

Slipping a ski mask over his face, he climbed over the fence and crept up behind the security guard as he was asleep once again at his post. Before the man could react, Aaron pistol whipped him over the head then injected him with the Rohypnol he managed to find on the black market before he left Washington, knowing it would keep him out for a good long time. From there it was simple work to shut down the cameras to the rest of the home and open the main gate. He quickly ran to his car and drove it up the drive way to the back entrance. Using the keys he retrieved from the guard he let himself into the home, making his way quietly across marble tiled floors and up the ridiculously massive and ornately designed, grand staircase until he found what he hoped was the sleeping chambers of Vincent DiNozzo.

Opening the door to the master bedroom, he found Tony's father fast asleep with a scrapbook lying open next to him on the other side of the bed. He acted quickly, injecting the drug directly into the jugular for it to work the fastest. He never even stirred.

Aaron noticed the album lying on the bed and flipped through several of the pages and decided that along with his abductee, he would take it as well. It might prove useful.

The hard part came next when he had to drag the older man out of bed and down the stairs. As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, it was then that a short and round middle aged woman came upon what was happening. He whipped out his gun and pointed it her, putting a finger up to his lips with his other hand and shaking his head to keep her from calling out.

He was able to subdue her easily without much noise and inject her with the sedative as well, the Rohybnol would take care of her memory and she shouldn't be able to even recall running into him.

After securing the older man in the trunk of his car and slipping a special surprise over the older man's pajamas, he drove off, closing the main gate behind him as he went. He tried to maintain a steady pace all the way to Washington so as not to risk getting pulled over and had remained relatively sober for the entire trip.

Pulling over once when he came to a deserted stretch of country road, he held a gun to Vincent's DiNozzo's head as the man woke from his drug induced stupor and ordered him to write the note to Tony. The older man was surprisingly defiant, but a sharp sock to his face and explaination regarding the special vest he now wore had the man complying and handing him the finished note before Foster slammed the trunk locked once again.

Once in Washington, Aaron was let into Tony's building by one of his neighbors and he had meant to just slip the note under the door for DiNozzo to find, but he changed his mind when he found no one was at home and how much more of an impact it would make on the agent if he left the note inside of his home in a place where only someone who could break into his place would leave it. So, using the lock-picking skills he learned from Ziva while he had been on Gibbs' team, he entered the apartment and placed the note on the small table by his door, leaving the door unlocked just to rattle the other man's nerves. His only regret was he wouldn't be there to see the expression on his face when he found the note.

So, then he waited at the designated area, trying to put the sounds of the man inside of his trunk out of his mind and the shakes and shivers from taking over completely.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait for much longer.

He'd spot DiNozzo's car anywhere, another symbol of the man's insufferable vanity. Pulling out his weapon, he opened the trunk, hauling Vincent DiNozzo out and bringing him standing before him, his handgun pointed directly at the older man's temple.

Tony must have seen this as he accelerated before coming to a hasty halt, dust flying in all direction from the wheels of his car against the dirt road. He practically jumped out of the car, using his door as cover.

“Foster?! What the hell are you doing? Let him go!” DiNozzo shouted, his sidearm drawn and aimed towards him.

“Forget it, DiNozzo. You want your father? Put down your weapon...” Tony hesitated before Foster began to point to his father's chest “As you can plainly see, I took the liberty of enhancing your father's wardrobe with some explosives....”

“And I have a dead man's switch. You kill me and you kill all of us when this vest goes off....Your choice, DiNozzo.”

“Do it Anthony.” The older DiNozzo encouraged his son.

Severely pissed, but seeing no other choice, Tony came up with his hands and weapon in the air.

“Good. Now throw your pistol into the river.”

DiNozzo was turning beat red in anger, but tossed the gun into the river as he was told. That's when Tony's phone began to ring.

“Toss your phone in there, too.” Aaron ordered.

“You should know it's Gibbs, he's gonna come looking for me when I don't answer.” Tony explained after seeing the caller ID.

“Oh, I don't doubt it, DiNozzo. But, by the time he finds us, it'll be too late.”

TBC......

Chapter 15

Ziva was at home with a bottle of CPL cleaner open on her kitchen table as she carefully ran a swab of cotton along the length of the bolt to her Sig Sauer when her cell rang.

'Gibbs' flashed across the caller ID.

“Ziva” She answered.

“Were you with Tony this morning, Ziva?” Gibbs began without preamble.

“Yes, we went for a run.” She told him as she sat up, worried by the strain she could hear in his voice. “Why?”

“I need to find him and he's not answering his phone.”

“I left him at his place not even an hour ago. I do not believe he had any plans to go anywhere. I do not understand why he would not answer his phone.....Has something happened?”

“Tony's father has been abducted and the New York State Police are looking at Tony as a possible suspect.”

Ziva's gut churned at the news.

“That is simply not possible, I was just with him and I am certain that Tony knew nothing of his father being kidnapped.”

“I know, Ziva. That's why we need to find him....” Ziva's anxiety shot up another notch as she recalled what happened earlier before she left Tony's apartment.

“Gibbs, when I dropped Tony off at his apartment, the door was unlocked and we were both certain that he had locked it, but we did not see anything out of place and there was no one inside. It may have just been a coincidence, but do you think that whomever abducted Tony's father has gone after him?”

“I don't believe in coincidences, Ziva. Go to Tony's place and see what you can find, I'll have McGee meet you there.”

“On my way.” She replied quickly.

Gibbs hung up without another word and Ziva sprang into action, reassembling her Sig in record time and loading it before she ran out of her apartment. She drove insanely, even by her standards, to Tony's apartment, narrowly avoiding collisions as she wildly swerved across traffic lanes, cutting numerous other cars off and ignoring the loud honks that accompanied her single-minded mission.

She screeched to a halt before Tony's building, not giving a damn about finding a place to park. Jumping out of her Mini Cooper, she dashed up the steps. McGee had still yet to arrive, but she made the call to go on ahead of him. Proper procedure would have called for he to have back-up, but she was in no mood to waste anytime waiting around for her other teammate to arrive.

She used Tony's security code that he had given her to get into the building then ran for the elevator, mashing the buttons as though that it might encourage it to go faster to his floor.

Once on his level, she took off from the elevator and ran to his door, knocking on it loudly.

“Tony?!” She called out, hoping somehow, that he was still at home, that he had perhaps just forgotten to turn on his phone or that he had just taken a nap, knowing how tired he had been after their workout this morning.

When there was no answer after several knocks, she went ahead and picked the lock swiftly, swinging the door open cautiously as she drew her weapon and silently crept inside. She scanned the room, then searched the rest of the apartment finding it empty.

“What the hell are you doing?” A voice called out behind her when she was in Tony's bedroom, looking at the pile of running clothes laying haphazardly tossed across the unmade bed. Ziva spun on her heel, nearly jumping out of her skin as she trained her weapon towards the source of the voice.

“McGee!”

“Ziva, Shit!” He lowered his weapon. “I thought you were an intruder. Why didn't you wait for me?

“Sorry, McGee.” Ziva gulped in relief as she lowered her gun as well. “It was foolish of me to go alone, but I could not wait any longer for you. Did Gibbs fill you in on everything?”

“Sort of. He just said to meet you here. What's going on?”

“Tony's father is missing and now, so is Tony. He is not here and he is not answering his cell.”

“Maybe he just has it off and went to the movies. His car isn't here.”

“Have you ever known Tony to have his phone off?”

“No. That's true.” McGee agreed, beginning to look worried himself.

“We should look around and see if we can find anything.”

McGee and Ziva began a search, looking for anything out of the ordinary. They found no signs of a struggle, as though wherever Tony went, he left willingly. Ziva walked into the kitchen, seeing his half-finished bottle of water still sitting on the counter from earlier that morning after their run. She thought it odd that he had not finished it, given the amount of sweat he had pouring off of him.

“Hey Ziva.” McGee called out from near the door. “I think I found something.”

“What is it McGee?”

“Take a look.”

McGee handed her a plain, white note which she took and read. A moment later she had Gibbs on the phone.

OOOOOOOOOO

Abby ran into her lab, her black cape billowing behind her as she swept inside then looked at her watch.

“Eleven minutes and fourteen seconds. Yes, new record!” she pumped her hand in victory before she noticed Gibbs standing in the middle of her lab looking less than enthused about her apparent excitement.

“Hey Gibbs.”

“'Bout time you got here, Abbs.” He complained.

“Didn't you just hear? This was the fastest I've ever gotten dressed and driven here from my apartment on a Saturday morning that we were supposed to have off. So what's so urgent.... we got a case?”

“I need you to find Tony.”

“What?” she asked concern and confusion marking her features.

“I don't have time to explain. Can you track his cell or not?”

“Sure, just give me a sec.” She darted for he computer and booted it up, pulling up Tony's cell phone data. She worked at it for several minutes before she growled in frustration.

“What is it?” Gibbs asked, looking over her shoulder at the screen.

“Tony's cell isn't giving off a signal. Either he's out of range from the nearest cell tower, which is unlikely anywhere near the city or his phone has been destroyed.”

“Shit.” Gibbs growled lowly. Abby looked behind her to see worried blue eyes gazing back at her.

“What's going with Tony? He's in trouble, isn't he?” She chewed her her bottom lip.

“He might be. I don't know, but I need you to concentrate, Abby. Is there any other way to track him?” Abby tried to keep the fear from creeping up on her from and consuming every fiber of her being as she thought desperately for a way, any way to search for him.

“Not if his cell is destroyed. I can keep the tracing program up and hope that if his cell is still intact, just in case he's just out of range and he might come back in, but who knows when that might be.”

Abby sighed and looked to her 'Tony shrine' that she had created when he had been away from them for so long after his fall. She had never gotten around to taking any of the pictures down after he returned and instead had added new ones. One in particular caught her attention. It was a photo of Tony leaning up against his car with his arms folded and a bright smile across his face, his precious classic Mustang that symbolized all that he was: sleek, sharp and sexy. Suddenly an idea struck her.

“Oh! Duh.” She slapped her head as she turned back to her computer with a new fervor.

“What?”

“Tony's car.”

“What about it, Abbs?”

“You remember how upset Tony was after his Corvette was stolen and totalled in that police chase right? Well, he had Lo-Jack installed on his car when he bought this new one after his last Mustang went kablewy so it could be tracked if it was ever stolen.”

“Can you track it?”

“Of course I can. It's just a radio transmitter hidden somewhere in the body of the car. It should be simple to find it since I already know the frequency. Tony gave it to me as soon as he had it installed so he could be the first one to go after anyone that dared to touch his new baby.”

“Do it.”

“Already am....” Abby typed commands furiously into her computer until the signal was found.

“There!” she pointed to the screen.

Gibbs leaned in reading the map just as his cell rang.

“Gibbs.” He answered.

“We know where Tony went, Gibbs.”Abby could hear Ziva's voice on the line.

“So do I. You and McGee get over to Piscataway National park as fast as you can. I'll meet you there.”

Before Ziva could respond, Gibbs hung up and gave Abby a reassuring peck on the cheek.

“Go get him, Gibbs.” She demanded.

“I'll bring him back. You have my word.” He turned an raced out the door, leaving Abby behind in his wake with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

“I know you will." She sighed heavily. "Just bring him back in one piece.”

OOOOOOOOOO

“Keep your hands in the air where I can see them DiNozzo, then walk this way slowly.” Foster ordered.

Tony kept his hands up and walked over as instructed, sizing up Foster. He had changed a lot since he last saw him. He was shockingly thin, gaunt even, skin tinged yellow with unhealthy looking dark circles under his eyes and the shaking in his black, gloved hands told Tony that the man was far from well physically. But what scared him the most was the crazy look in the other man's eyes. Gone was the sharp, intelligent gaze he used to have in them when he had worked at NCIS on Gibbs' team, only hatred existed there now.

“We can talk about this, Foster. Just you and me. I'm obviously the one you have the beef with, so you can let him go now.”

“I don't think so.”

Tony turned his attention to his father and they made eye contact, saying a lot between them with just one look. The man had aged quite a bit since he last saw him. His hair, which had always been a steely grey like Gibbs', even when he was a little kid, was now shockingly white and he was thinner and paler than he ever recalled him being. That's when it hit Tony that his father was over seventy and entering his twilight years. However, the proud stance his father always maintained was holding up despite his age and even under these circumstances, he showed no outward signs of fear or intimidation, as usual.

“You okay, Dad?” He asked.

“I woke inside of a trunk with a bomb strapped across my chest this morning, so I'd say I've had better days, Anthony.” His father responded coolly. “This man a friend of yours?”

“Not since he broke my nose.”

“You always did have a way with people. I suppose somethings never change.” The elder DiNozzo grumbled.

“Alright, that's enough chit chat you two, family reunion's over now. C'mon, DiNozzo, get over here, we haven't got all day.”

“I'm coming, Foster. Don't get your panties in a bunch.” Foster sneered viciously as Tony came nearly face to face with him.

“Spread 'em.” Tony was ordered and he held his arms out while taking his feet out wide while maintaining a shaky hold on the detonator switch in his hand, Foster patted Tony down for weapons.

“So, what's your plan here?...Oh let me guess... Kill me?”

Foster chuckled then smiled wickedly.

“I'm going to do to you what you did to me, DiNozzo.”

“What exactly did I do to you?”

“You took everything from me. My career, my life, my hopes....you took it all. So, I'm going to take everything away from you.”

“How do you figure that I did all of that? I tried to help you. No one liked to see you go all 'Leaving Las Vegas' like you did after Mexico. You could have gotten help, but instead you drank yourself into a stupor. If any one is to blame it's you.” Tony knew it was foolish to antagonize the already irate man, but he just couldn't help himself.

“NO!” Foster's eyes flashed insanely with a burning rage as he violently grabbed Tony by the collar and yelled into his face. “I didn't want your help, don't you see? We wouldn't be here right now if it hadn't been for your help. I have nothing left and now it's your turn to watch everything you love disappear before your eyes as well.”

“Mr. Foster.” Tony heard his father speak up and Foster let go of his shirt with a little push before turning on the older man. “If it's money you're after. I have plenty. Just name your price. I have quite a few connections as well and you could start over far from here and get your life back...I would see to it personally...if you just let Anthony and I go.”

“Your money can't help you now. I know how you rich people operate.” He pointed to both of them and Tony grew nervous seeing Foster shake as he held the detonator. “You think you can buy whatever you want. Power, people, positions.” The last word he spoke directed towards Tony and he couldn't help but be a little incensed even with the threat of being blown to bits hanging over them.

“Wait a sec....You think I bought my position at NCIS?....Seriously, Foster?” Tony began incredulously

“It explains why Gibbs ever let you onto his team.”

“My father and his money had nothing to do with how I got on Gibbs' team, I put myself through college then became a cop. I had to work pretty damn hard to get as far as I have.”

“It is true, Mr. Foster. I was never too keen on the idea of my son working in law enforcement and I would have never wasted any my wealth on such a foolish pursuit.”

Tony looked with a slight roll of the eyes to his father, who had uttered the words as though they dirtied his tongue. His father had never given Tony any handouts growing up, forcing him to fend for himself, especially after he cut Tony off from the family money before he was even in high school claiming he wanted his son to know what it was like to work for what he needed. But when Tony actually did succeed in making his own way in the world without any help from dear old dad, he got nothing but grief for it.

He had heard no end of the bitterness from his father the last time they actually spoke to one another years ago when he graduated from high school and announced that he was going to Ohio State on a sports scholarship. As if letting his father know that he was going to a public university was bad enough, when he made it known to him that he had no intention of going to business school like his father and take over the family business when he retired, his father wasted no time completely disowning him. But by that point, Tony had become his own man and wanted nothing to do with his father and his plans for him anyway, he had his own dreams and ambitions and they didn't include shady business dealings nor international corporate intrigue.

“Gee thanks, Dad.” Tony couldn't help but bite back.

“Enough!” Foster edged closer to the senior DiNozzo. “I had a father like you. He did nothing but tell me how worthless I was. I suppose then, this will be all the better when I make your son watch as you die.”

Tony took a step forward, but was stopped when Foster lifted the detonator threateningly. Raising his hands in supplication, he tried to reason with him.

“Foster. Think about this rationally for a minute.... unless of course, you've flown too far over the cuckoo's nest to come back to reality anymore.” Tony pointed to his father. “He didn't do anything to you. Sure, he was pretty much a cold bastard for the majority of my life and a manipulative, alcoholic, mean-spirited sonuvabitch that wouldn't care if his own son fell of the face of the planet, but whatever your father did to you, is not my dad's fault.”

Tony ignored the mixture of emotions crossing his father's face as he vehemently spat out the words he had wanted to yell at his father for so long and for a split second, he thought he had gotten through to Foster, but just as soon as it seemed that some sense had flashed over his features, it was gone, replaced again by his intense, unstable glare.

“I know what your doing DiNozzo and it isn't going to work, You pretending like you don't care about him, thinking that I wouldn't get any satisfaction out making you watch me kill him if you didn't love him. You wouldn't be here if you truly hated him.”

“Okay, maybe I don't hate him. But you can still let him go.”

“He's part of the plan.”

“What plan? Have you really thought any of this out?”

“I've had six months to think about this thanks to you!" Foster shouted. "You're going to confess to killing your own father before disappearing. Your name will be disgraced, just as mine was.”

Tony actually chuckled despite the fear that crept up inside.

“Right....How are you going to pull this off exactly since you had me toss my gun into the river?”

“Who said he's to be shot? Especially since a knife does the job just as well.” With his free hand, Foster pulled a large hunting knife from his back pocket and pointed it towards his father with a murderous gleam in his eyes.

“It'll never work Foster. You of all people should know that, even if you're not thinking clearly. C'mon, look around you. You left too much evidence. Two sets of tire tracks? My gun and phone in the river. Gibbs won't be fooled for a second.”

Doubt seeped into Foster's face as he looked off in thought.

“You don't really want to do this, do you?" Tony started in with a gentler voice. "You used to be a good guy...and smart....in fact, you were kinda scary smart and I'll admit you had me a little worried about my own job safety.”

“Yeah right,” Foster snorted in anger. “Gibbs would never let you go....Anyone could see that ...The way he let you stay at his home, made you a cane....He respects you way more this guy over here.” He pointed to his Dad. “Besides, maybe I was never all that great of a guy to begin with, DiNozzo. You don't know me. You don't know how many times I daydreamed about pushing you down a flight of stairs, just so you could never come back again, because I knew, I was the better agent. I had the better credentials, the better education, the better skills..... I've had six long months to think about it and you know what? I don't give a shit about being the 'good guy' anymore so spare me your platitudes and shove them where the sun don't shine.”

Foster jerked and shook from his emotional outburst and Tony worried he actually let go of the trigger on the detonator. He was going to have to make his move soon before Foster killed them all.

Tony dared to take a step towards him, but Foster saw it and darted for his father, grabbing him from behind and wrapping his arm around the older man's midsection while bringing the knife to his throat.

"Foster, Don't!" Tony pleaded.

That's when the totally unexpected happened.

A look of pure murderous rage exploded over Vincent DiNozzo's face and before Tony could do anything or even call out, his father grabbed the hand that held the dead-man's switch and twisted, causing many things to happen all at once. Foster called out in pain while the elder DiNozzo grabbed the trigger and held it close to his chest. With a wail of pure, inhuman rage, Foster shoved the knife to the hilt into his father's back before yanking it out again and pushing him to the ground, causing the older man cry out and land on his chest, his hold remaining tight on the detonator as he came crashing down.

“No!” Tony cried out lividly at the same time as rammed full force into Foster, bringing them both to a bone-jarring landing into the gravel behind, knocking the knife out of the other man's hand and sending it skidding far out of the way. Tony threw a fist directly into the face of his opponent, but failed to take him out as they rolled and tossed each other about, limbs, hands and arms desperately grappling and trying to inflict as much damage as possible to the other man. Finding himself on his back with Foster straddling him across the waist, he made contact with Tony's face several times in a row, causing darkness to creep in around the edges of his vision, but Tony was too incensed to go out so easily and reached for the one weapon Foster had failed to find: the knife hidden in his belt buckle and he thanked God once again for Gibbs' rule number nine.

With an powerful thrust and a malevolence Tony had never truly felt before, he gripped the knife and plunged it deep into Foster's thigh, eliciting a satisfaction out of the other man's scream that took him by surprise and frightened him more than any other event of that day. Tony pushed him off just as Foster pulled the knife out. Bright red blood spurted from the wound, but it didn't faze the injured man as he lunged for Tony with the knife. Tony rolled and ducked, but was caught by the edge of the knife as it cut a long swath across his chest, ripping his shirt and breaking the skin. Adrenaline coursing through his veins prevented him from registering the pain that normally would accompany such a gash and he kicked out, hitting Foster square on the injured portion of his leg. With a yell, he Finally fell in agony, dropping the knife and Tony jumped on top of him, his fists going to town on his face, one after the other.

“YOU!” He punched him in the nose. “DON'T!” His fist landed on his jaw. “MESS!” Blood poured from Foster's mouth as a tooth flew out. “WITH FAMILY!”

“Anthony!” Tony was inches away from another strike when he heard his father shout at him. “He's out already.”

Breathing heavily, exhaustion took over his muscles as his hand fell limp to his side. Even bloody and dazed, Tony could make out how badly he had beaten Foster and knew he wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

On his hands and knees, he crawled over to the older man, who was still laying on the ground, blood from his back seeping into the dirt as he grew paler by the second. Quickly, Tony had him sit up and helped him to lean against the opposite side Foster's car. Tony put his hand over his father's and took over his hold on the dead-man's switch. Once the trigger was safely in his hand, he used his free hand to loosen up the straps that secured the vest loaded with explosives attached to his father and eased it off of him.

“I'll be right back.” Taking the vest in hand, Tony shook off a wave of dizziness and headed for the middle of the field beside of them. Fifty yards out he dropped the vest and hurried back to his father's side.

“Cover your ears and your head.” he instructed as he did the same, then let go of the switch. Half a second later, the ground shook as the explosives in the vest detonated, incinerating the grass in the field surrounding it.

Once the shock-wave passed, Tony turned to look at his father, who was staring at him with a look he had never seen pass over the man's face before: respect and pride.

"How are you doing?" Tony asked as he stripped down to his t-shirt, using his other shirt to press into the wound on his father's back.

"I'm fine, son." Tony blinked a the 'son' moniker, he couldn't remember his father ever calling him that. "But, you look like you might pass out." He pointed out, referring to the blood on Tony's chest and face and .

"DiNozzos don't pass out, remember? You told me that when I was five and broke my arm falling off a horse."

"I said a lot of things that were wrong." The older man confessed seriously.

Stunned by his father's admission and the light smile that creased at the corners of his mouth, Tony was unprepared for when he closed his eyes and slid over, losing consciousness. He caught him as he came down then laid him gently on the ground. “Hold on....If I know my boss, he's on his way.”

TBC.....

Chapter 16

Gibbs' prayers for light traffic went unanswered as he raced to Piscataway. He weaved in and out of the cars, cursing as they went about their business, going at rates of speed far slower than he could tolerate as they seemed to be unaware of his need get to Tony as soon as possible. Unsurprisingly, by the time he made it to the entrance to the park, he found Ziva's car was right behind his as he turned and sped towards the location Abby had pinpointed.

He growled in frustration when the road he was on came to an end at the river's edge and forked to the left and right into crude dirt roads. Unsure of which way to go at first, he looked to the right first then his heart began to pump faster at the sight of smoke billowing at the far end. He stomped on the accelerator, fighting against the fishtails his wheels made while slipping onto the gravel road. Up ahead, he could make out a fire burning in a field with two cars sitting idle. Even from a distance, he immediately recognized Tony's car and another, a late model sedan with it's trunk popped open.

Unable to see past Tony's car and not seeing anyone around, he pushed his car even hard until he brought it to a skidding halt beside it. His weapon already drawn, Gibbs jumped out of the vehicle and ran around the Mustang, looking inside of it, but seeing no one.

“Over here, Boss!” Jerking his head to the source of the call, Gibbs turned, then lowered his weapon, taking in the sight before him. “We need an ambulance!”

Tony was sitting on the ground between two men, stripped down to just his jeans. Laying unconscious on the ground with his son struggling to hold a bloodied shirt against his back was Tony's father, while the other man, also unconscious and bloody, lay with a formerly white, but now soaked-red t-shirt tied around his thigh. He looked familiar to Gibbs, but at that distance, was unrecognizable due to his facial injuries.

Gibbs could only assume that there had been a helluva fight as Tony himself looked as though he had been put through a ringer and had the look of a man pushed beyond his physical limits. A cut above his right eye bled down his bruised and swollen face, but what troubled the former marine the most was the long, red gash that traveled across the width of his chest and stood in stark contrast to the pale skin of his senior agent.

Pushing aside his initial reaction to the scene and rushing over, Gibbs holstered his weapon and came to Tony's side. Seconds later Ziva and McGee pulled up and came running over as well.

“McGee, call 911, Ziva, check the other guy.” Gibbs ordered. “You okay?” He asked Tony, who just nodded, telling Gibbs that he was hurt worse than he was willing to let on.

“Oh my God...Foster.” Ziva give a little gasp when she went to help the other unconscious man and recognized him.

“Foster? What the hell happened, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, but Tony seemed to zone out as he tended to his father and for a moment Gibbs worried that he might pass out right there.

“Tony.”Calling him firmly by his first name seemed to snap him back and he blinked up at his boss.

“He just... he's....He went completely psycho, Boss....” he tried to explain and shook his head as though he didn't quite understand all that had happened either.

A cold wind picked up and the first drops of rain began to fall. Tony shivered reflexively and Gibbs whipped off his coat wrapping it around the younger man's bare shoulders, but he shrugged it off.

“Give it to him...He needs it more.” Tony indicated to his father, who was still clad in only his pajamas.

“Keep it on, DiNozzo.” recognizing the initial signs of shock in his agent, Gibbs pushed Tony bodily so that he was sitting up against the side of the sedan “Sit tight, I'll take care him.” He ordered while reassuring him at the same time, taking up the job of tending to the elder DiNozzo.

“Paramedics are on the way, Boss.” McGee announced.

“Go to the end of the road to flag them down, McGee.”

“On it, Boss.”

“Ziva? How is he?” Gibbs nodded to Foster, anger creeping in on him as he began to draw the conclusion that he had been responsible for all that was happening at that moment.

“He is alive, Gibbs.” That was all that he needed to know and he ordered Ziva to retrieve the first aid kit he kept in his trunk as he looked over again a Tony, who kept his gaze leveled on the prone figure of his father.

“He said he was wrong....he never says stuff like that....” Tony muttered tiredly before he finally closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Ziva came back a moment later with the first aid kit and she didn't need to be told to go and help Tony. She went to his side and began tending to his bleeding gash across his chest just as he heard a moan escape from the lips of the man under his hands. The elder DiNozzo tried to roll over to his back, but Gibbs held him fast.

“Hold still, Mr. DiNozzo.” He ordered as the movement made it nearly impossible to control the loss of blood.

“My son.....” He gasped painfully, seeing Tony with his eyes closed.

“He'll be fine. Try not to move.” he assured him.

“Agent Gibbs? Is that you?” He looked up in recognition.

“Yeah.”

“Anthony said you would come.”

Gibbs was unable to stop the man from rolling completely to his back this time to look up into his face. He could see that there was something he needed to say to him was more important than his own well-being for Gibbs had seen this look before in combat, in the faces of men that knew they were about to die and he began to plead feebly to the former marine.

“Please...tell my son.....I'm sorry....I was too stubborn and obstinate to apologize and for too many years I let him think that I didn't care....But it's not true, I know he's a good man... and...I'm proud.”

“Me too, but you need to tell him yourself.” Gibbs looked over towards his senior agent and saw that he was looking in their direction, waving Ziva off as he made his way over to his father's side. It was then that the skies opened up and rain began to fall in earnest.

“Anthony....”

“I heard, Dad...” Tony gulped back his fear and pain. “You don't have to say it again.”

“I do.....I'm so sorry...I let too much time pass.”

“Hey, you're not the only one that dropped the ball on the whole communication thing.” Tony tried to joke weakly, but failed miserably as he just couldn't hide his warring emotions.

“I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me for not being the father I should have been.”

Tony shook his head and struggled to find his next words.

“And don't tell me I wasn't...I was too hard on you, too demanding....I thought it would make you stronger, but I just pushed you away....”

The older man raised his hand and Tony instinctively took it in his own. Gibbs could see Tony's father losing the battle to stay with them and he knew the end would be upon him soon. He knew that Tony was coming to this conclusion as well. Vincent fixed his gaze onto Gibbs before he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Take care of my son, Agent Gibbs.”

“Always.” Gibbs replied sincerely with a nod as he watched the older man begin to fade. Still gripping Tony's hand, the younger man had to lean in close to hear the words his father was trying to form.

“Anthony...I...” He maintained an intense gaze on his son, speaking volumes into Tony's eyes. In those fleeting few moments the pain, the hurt, the disappointments, the bitterness and the harsh words that passed between them faded into nothingness as the bonds of blood were too strong to unbind. However, he was too weak to finish speaking the words on his tongue as his tentative hold on the physical world collapsed.

Gibbs felt much like an intruder as he watched the intimate scene between father and son and witnessed the dismay and heartbreak that enveloped Tony's features when the older man's eyes slipped closed for the last time and his grip relaxed within his son's hand. Holding tight to the limp hand, he knew what his father had wanted to say and Gibbs saw the tears well in the younger man's eyes before he bowed his head and bent low to speak softly into the now still man's ear.

“Me too, Dad....I love you, too.” He quietly uttered.

In the distance, the wails of approaching sirens announced the impending arrival of the ambulance, but both he and Tony knew that they would never make it in time.

All Gibbs could offer was a hand laid comfortingly across his young friend's back, letting him know he would be there for him as the grief and the rain poured down.

OOOOOOOOOO

A cool breeze blew colorful, fallen leaves into swirls along the path as the two men stood side by side near the long pile of dirt. He wasn't sure why he stayed to see this part, all the other friends, associates, ex-wives and other assorted distant cousins or acquaintances that his father had known but Tony had never met already left as soon as the final 'amen' was uttered by the priest. However, for some reason he felt compelled to stay, as if frozen to the spot like so many of the other statues and monuments that lined the rows of the cemetery grounds.

There was still to be a wake that afternoon at his father's home, hosted by ex-wife number three or was it two? He couldn't remember which, not that it really mattered to him at all, they were all strangers to him anyway. Besides, the only person he cared to have any sort of company with the past few days was standing right beside him and he wasn't going to be offering any empty condolences and platitudes like those others and that was just how he wanted it.

Now, even the cemetery workers were leaving, their task completed and it was just the two of them. Tony sighed heavily. He had finally told his father all that he had needed to say for so many years and he had actually made a connection with him only to have it severed so soon afterwards.

For the greater part of his childhood and all of his adult life, Tony had been on his own and had gone without the love, affection and approval of his father and he hadn't missed it. However, that one little taste of what it could have been like if he and his father had mended ways sooner left him with a hollowness that he had never experienced before and he wondered how it was it could hurt so much to miss someone that was barely in his life.

“Guess this is it, eh Boss?” Tony finally spoke.

“Take your time....There's no rush.” Gibbs assured him calmly, putting his hands into his pockets casually, as if willin to wait all day. Tony couldn't deny that his strong and stoic presence had been an anchor for Tony's fluctuating emotions the last three days, grounding him to the Earth and keeping him from thinking to hard in any one direction or another. He had hardly left his side since that afternoon by the river, staying with him while he was admitted overnight to the hospital then insisting that Tony stay at least a few days at his home while his latest concussion and injuries began to heal, but more than that, he knew Gibbs was making sure he was fulfilling his promise to his father to watch over Tony.

They were silent again for a long time until a realization struck him.

“You know, I really never thought much about it, but I've always known this day would come....the day when I would no longer have any family left....Not that I don't still have some colorful uncles and spiteful cousins still out there, but you know....real family...the people you came home to each day after school when you were a kid and ate dinner with every night, celebrated Christmas with, got annoyed at Thanksgiving by or embarrassed by their taste in music.....” Tony paused and blew out a breath. “I don't know why I would miss something I never really had in the first place, it doesn't make any sense really..... but I can't help it.”

“It makes sense, ” Gibbs replied evenly. “everyone needs family.”

“And now mine is gone....” Tony spoke softly, looking down and kicking at a leaf near his foot.

“Hey....” Feeling a hand land on his shoulder and gripping it tight caused Tony to look up into intense, blue eyes, seeing only truthfulness and unashamed concern. “You got a family, Tony. Only the blood is missing, but all that matters is there....got it?”

A small smile crept into the corners of Tony's mouth.

“Got it, Boss.”

TBC....

Epilogue

Tony laughed over Abby's latest creation, but after her past attempt at baking a welcome back surprise for him, this was a definite improvement and at least this time she actually made a cake instead of some kind of strange pudding-like, cookie mixture. Even if it was a little lopsided...okay, very lopsided, it was a testimony to the love Abby had for him.

“Well...You like it?”

“Absolutely, especially the black frosting....and the bat shape is a special touch...very....unique.”

“Ahh, thanks, Tony. Now blow out the candles.”

“What is it with you and fire? You do know that candles are just for birthday cakes, right?” He asked cheekily.

“Well, today's your first day back as a full-fledged field agent so it's even more special than your birthday....maybe you need more candles....” She dug around in her bag.

“No!” four voices sounded off at once from all sides of Tony's desk.

“Abby, two boxes of candles should be enough.” Ziva assured her.

“Indeed my Dear, there is no room left on the cake for any more.” Ducky pointed out.

“Besides, I'm pretty sure this is a fire hazard...should we really be burning anything inside of a federal building?” McGee questioned just before Abby hit him on the shoulder.

“Oh McGee, who's going to arrest you? You?” She complained just as Tony felt a familiar impact to the back of his head and whipped around, seeing Gibbs sweep in from behind and stride to his desk.

“Ow! What was that for?” He whined.

“For not doing anything about that bonfire on your desk." Speaking as he walked, Gibbs sat down behind his desk. "Just blow out the damn candles already DiNozzo, before the smoke detectors go off.”

“Hey if the sprinklers go off, it's all Abby's fault.” Tony pointed to the goth. “She's the one that's the pryromaniac.”

“If I get wet, who do you think I'm actually going to blame?” Gibbs came back.

“Yeah, c'mon, Boss....” Tony laughed then sobered after seeing Gibbs' serious, deadpan glare and took a deep breath then hastily blew out the candles as hard as he could, smiling brightly after they all were extinguished in one breath.

“Yay!” Abby bounced and clapped then gave Tony a tight hug.

Gibbs watched as his team huddled around Tony's desk and he let it slide that they weren't getting much work accomplished that morning. It was just nice to see an actual smile cross over his senior field agent's face and not some cheap facsimile of it, like the one he had been witnessing since his father's murder.

Knowing that getting back to normal was the best medicine for Tony, he also knew that the younger man was still hiding much of the pain and anger he felt, but everyday he saw a little bit more of the old Tony return.

However, after the news he just received from the director, Gibbs worried that it would send him spiraling back down to square one and he was going to have to break the news to him soon before he found out from someone else.

No one at Tony's desk actually noticed when the phone on Gibbs' desk rang and he picked it up.

“Gibbs” He announced to the caller.

“Agent Gibbs, this is Michelle from the evidence locker, An item from the FBI has just arrived for you. Do you want me to bring it up to you?”

“No....I'll come and get it.” He replied curtly before hanging up. Gibbs looked over at the gathering by Tony's desk and made eye contact with his senior agent.

“You want any cake, Boss? It's actually pretty good for something Abby made.” Tony ducked as Abby swung at him and he laughed when she missed.

“Maybe later.” He replied.

Gibbs waited until the little party had died down before he knew that he had to inform Tony of what was going on. Once Abby and Ducky left for their respective posts and Ziva and McGee were back at their spots, he stood and approached Tony's desk. The younger man looked up as he came near and Gibbs motioned with his head towards the elevator.

He didn't need to tell Tony to follow him, one look was enough to convey to him that he had something important he needed to discuss within the quiet confines of the elevator cab. Without saying a word, Tony followed him in and Gibbs punched in the button for the basement, waiting only a few seconds before flicking on the emergency stop switch.

“Did I do something wrong, Boss?” Leave it to Tony to think that he had screwed up in some way to warrant the private talk.

“No...You need to know that I spoke with the director...” Gibbs decided to tell him simply, no need to beat around the bush, he thought, it was better to just get it out in the open. “Foster committed suicide this morning just after he was released from the prison hospital and put in with the general population- Hung himself with his bedsheets.”

Gibbs watched Tony's jaw muscles contact as his face paled, clearly angered by the revelation.

“That son of a bitch!...” He spat out the words, his eyes blazing. “He would take the easy way out. He probably figured he was too good for prison.” Gibbs had been just as upset to hear the news himself and understood where the anger was coming from.

“There was a note...” Gibbs added “He confessed to the entire plan to kidnap your father and kill the both of you. He mentioned being regretful....”

“Oh sure....” Tony actually laughed then threw up his hands, cutting off his Boss. “Now he's sorry, now that he knows he won't have to face any punishment for what he did.” Tony snorted in disgust as he turned away with his hand on his hips, not wanting to show Gibbs the warring emotions going on inside. However, he could practically feel the malice and rage building inside his senior agent, but he let him fume. There wasn't much else he could do to make digesting the news any easier for him.

Tony turned back suddenly, nearly shouting “I should have just let him bleed to death...apparently that's what he wanted all along anyway, at least that way I wouldn't have lost a perfectly good t-shirt !” breathless in his from his rant, Tony panted while Gibbs just stood calmly by.

“Ya done?” Gibbs asked after Tony's breathing evened out.

Tony blew out and nodded.

“Yeah. Sorry, Boss.”

“Don't apologize....we both know you wouldn't have let Foster die..”

“I'm not so sure....When we were fighting and I finally got the upper hand....I was going to kill him...I wanted nothing more than to keep beating the shit out of him until...the only thing that stopped me was my Dad....” Tony trailed off.

“But you helped him afterward...”

“I'm still not sure why I did.” Tony admitted.

“Because you were the better man, Tony.” Locking eyes, Gibbs knew he didn't need to say anymore and flicked the emergency stop off, sending the cab in motion towards the basement once again.

“So, what are we doing down here exactly?” Tony asked as the doors opened to the basement and Gibbs lead the way out.

“Need to pick up something.” Gibbs knew that Tony had no idea what he was talking about. One piece of evidence found in Foster's car after Tony had been taken to the hospital had been held by the FBI when they took over the investigation into the kidnapping and murder of Tony's father. Being a kidnapping and murder case that crossed several state lines had trumped NCIS's involvement, but now that Foster was dead, there wasn't any need for the FBI to hang onto it any longer.

Tony followed Gibbs to the evidence locker and Michelle, one of the attendants went right to a plain, brown paper bag as soon as she saw Gibbs.

“Here you go, Agent Gibbs. Just sign this....” She handed a pen and clipboard to the older agent.

“Actually, Agent DiNozzo needs to sign. It's his property.” Gibbs handed the pen off to Tony who gave him a surprised and questioning look, but took it and signed anyway.

“What is it?” Tony hadn't learned about this particular piece of evidence, mostly because the FBI were being pricks as usual and had been keeping the fact that they had it in there possession to themselves. Gibbs himself had only learned of it that morning when he talked to Fornell, demanding to know how a prisoner in a federal prison and still being investigated by the FBI had managed to kill himself. While Fornell only grudgingly respected DiNozzo's expertise as an agent, he knew how much Tony meant to Gibbs and had told him about it, offering to send it to them as soon as he had permission to release it.

Gibbs had been a little surprised that Fornell had followed through with his promise so soon, but his old friend always did have a way with getting what he wanted when he wanted it and a small smile played on Gibbs' face when he thought about how the scene may have played out at FBI headquarters. Only Fornell could out-scare his subordinates more than Gibbs could himself and he had no doubt there had been some casualties taken by Fornell's intense glare and sharp tongue along the way.

“Open it up.” Gibbs insisted.

With only a moment's hesitation, Tony opened the bag and looked inside.

“How the hell...?” For once DiNozzo was at a loss for words as he pulled the leather-bound scrapbook out of the bag, tracing his fingers along the 'Anthony' embossed across the top of it.

“It was found in Foster's car. He must have taken it when he kidnapped your father.” Tony was barely listening as he opened the book. Inside were pictures taken of Tony as a baby, then as a toddler and even a few of him dressed a sailor when he was in grades school, which Tony skipped over rather hastily. One thing was certain however, the photos stopped before Tony entered adolescence.

“This was my mother's...” Tony explained. “I remember her working on this....Why would he take this?”

“Hard to say....Now that he's gone, I guess we'll never know.”

He continued to flip through a few blank pages, then gasped when he came upon pictures of himself in adulthood and Gibbs knew as well as Tony did that his mother couldn't have possibly have put those in there.

His father must have.

Musing as he watched Tony flip through the new additions the elder DiNozzo had added to the book, Gibbs thought about how miserably Foster had failed. He had meant to take Tony's career as a field agent, yet here he was stronger than ever. And he tried take all that Tony had away from him by killing his father, however the two would have never reconciled and Tony might never have known that his father actually did care for him if it hadn't been for his act of violence against them. Ultimately, Foster had underestimated Tony's strength, competence and determination like so many other people had and that was what truly led to his defeat.

“Take your time, Tony." He instructed softly. "Come back up when you're ready.” Giving Tony a quick pat to the shoulder, Gibbs turned and strode for the exit, then slowed and smiled reflexively when he heard the snap of a book being closed followed by footsteps rushing up behind him.

“On your six, Boss.”

The End