Stormy Weather-Katrina

Tony went home to his apartment, but sleep eluded him. He tossed and turned before deciding that getting dress and going to work was his best bet. That’s why by the time McGee, looking satisfied and contented, showed up Tony was almost caught up.

"Just what was so important that you couldn't talk to me last night, Probie?" Tony growled the instant McGee rounded the corner. In the background the news on the latest hurricane in the gulf was being reported.

McGee ignored the question, moving straight to his desk and turning on his computer.

Tony followed McGee’s movements, his jaw tightening. "Not going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope," McGee said cheerfully. Not even Tony could spoil his day. "And how was your evening," he inquired pleasantly.

Before Tony could retort Gibbs rounded the corner a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

"Going someplace, Boss," Tony asked.

"Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. I volunteered to help with the evacuation process," Gibbs said grimly.

Tony and Tim exchanged startled glances.

"Wha…What about us?" McGee stammered.

"You two stay here and hold down the fort."

The two younger men exchange looks. "You’re not going without us," Tony insisted while Tim nodded his head in agreement.

"I don’t know." Gibbs seemed to be wavering, when Dr. Mallard came around the corner, a suitcase in his hand.

"Come on, Boss," Tony wheedled.

"Jethro, we don’t have time to stop and pick up their luggage. We only have 45 minutes to get to the transport," Ducky insisted.

"You don’t need to." Abby and Jimmy Palmer came upon the scene from another direction carrying two sets of duffle bags. Abby handed one of the duffle bags off to McGee while Palmer handed the other over to Tony. "I knew you guys would need these."

"How did you know, Abby?" Gibbs asked.

"Have you forgotten? I’m from New Orleans; I keep up with the news," Abby said indignantly. Then she gave each man a big hug. "Take care, guys. I’m counting on you."

"Stay safe, Dr. Mallard," Palmer said to Ducky as he shook his hand good-bye.

As the four men got on the elevator, Tony asked, "How’d she get our things?"

"Abby’s got a key to my apartment," McGee said.

"Oh," Tony nodded, that explained that. "But how did she get my things?"

"Who do you think taught me how to pick a lock," Gibbs informed him as they elevator door closed.

***

On the way out of the building Gibbs called Director Morrow and advised him that two more of his people were taking leave to go to New Orleans. Not that he expected any arguments, when he’d learned that Naval personnel at the naval bases in New Orleans were being evacuated he had immediately volunteered. Three amphibious ships were scheduled to leave Norfolk within the next few days, but Gibbs was not the type to put off until tomorrow what could be done today. Morrow had sighed and said he wasn’t surprised and that had been that.

Now the four men were standing in line along with a large number of marines waiting to board the transport. The noise from the engines made it hard to hear.

"Dr. Donald Mallard," Ducky shouted to the man checking names off a clipboard. The officer nodded, checked his name off the list and motioned him aboard.

"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS," Gibbs shouted when it was his turn. The officer nodded, then cocked a questioning eyebrow at the two civilians behind him. "They’re with me," Gibbs shouted over the whine of the engines.

The officer’s eyes flickered for a second, then he came to a decision. "From what I’m hearing, they can use all the help they can get."

"That bad, huh?" Gibbs shouted. All the men boarding this transports were marine volunteers, no actually orders had come through yet ordering troops from the DC area to help with the evacuation.

The officer nodded and jerked his hand over his shoulder motioning them to enter, his attention already focusing on the person behind them.

Conversation was minimal and space was at a premium. The only clothing each person had were in the duffels that lay at their feet.

Gibbs glanced across at Ducky, making sure the older man was settled, before closing his eyes and going back to sleep, even if only for a little while.

His eyes popped open when he heard the squeal of tires on the tarmac. Rain was pouring down and there was a ramp waiting to pull up to the door. He checked on Ducky, who was also waking from a brief nap. McGee sitting next to Ducky seemed tense. Tony, too, looked as if he hadn’t slept.

They found everything a bit chaotic as they exited the plane. They ran through the rain to the building. The place was a madhouse. A couple of Red Cross Volunteers greeted them. "Things are a bit disorganized at the moment," One of them said.

"Where are we?"

"The Baton Rouge Airport. It was the closest we could get. New Orleans is completely shut down."

When they found out about McGee’s computer skills, he was soon whisked away. His computer skills made him a natural to help with setting up a registry so evacuees could locate each other. Help that was desperately needed.

There was a great need for doctors at the hospitals and shelters and Ducky was trying to decide where his abilities could be used best when a loud voice was heard over the noise that surrounded them.

"Hey, Gunny."

Gibbs turned toward the recognized voice of an old friend. "Mark! You here too?"

"Unofficially," Mark admitted, shaking Gibbs hand with enthusiasm. "You’re a sight for sore eyes. Still with NCIS?"

A nudge at his side got Gibbs attention and he turned to Tony and Ducky who were waiting expectantly.

"Oh. Dr. Donald Mallard, our medical examiner and Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Colonel Mark Hayes. Mark and I served together under Colonel Ryan."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Mark said as he shook each man’s hand. "Doc, you’ll find a lot in your line to keep you busy here," he said somberly.

Ducky straighten his shoulders and sighed. "That’s what I was afraid of."

"Just how bad is it?" Gibbs asked.

"Tens of thousands fled, but there were a lot who wouldn’t or couldn't in spite of a mandatory evacuation order. The Superdome is probably filled to capacity with people seeking refuge. There is no electricity or water. Communication is virtually nonexistent. Even cell phones don’t work. I heard the Red Cross was ready and waiting to take food and supplies into the Superdome and were turned away."

"That’s stupid!" Tony burst out indignantly.

"Tell me about it," Mark said grimly. "I heard a rumor that a bunch of local people organized a rescue operation, even had a fire department volunteer from some town further up north to help out. They had boats ready to go in and were turned away."

"Turned away! By whom?"

"Wildlife officials." Mark spat in disgust. "Politics, go figure."

"Does that mean they’re not letting anyone in?" Gibbs frowned.

"Marines outrank Wildlife anytime," Mark said a twinkle finally showing in his eyes.

"Well, I guess helping the living would be the best use of my time. The deceased can wait," Ducky said. "Someone point me in the right direction."

"It looks like that leaves just the two of you." Mark pointed out. "Got any plans?"

"Just want to help wherever we’re needed," Gibbs said.

"Got your weapon?" Mark asked.

"Do I need it?" Gibbs asked surprised.

Mark shrugged. "You never know."

Gibbs opened his jacket revealing his gun.

"Perfect." Mark grinned. "Have I got the job for you."

Ducky immediately decided to take charge of finding accommodations, the luggage and keeping communications between the team members open.

After getting something quick to eat, the two groups separated. Gibbs and Tony piled into Mark’s SUV. Hardly anyone was on the roads. Gas stations were closed. They headed south noting that damage didn't seem too bad. The closer they got to the Orleans area however it got worse, much worse. They had to go through back roads to avoid officials that might try and stop them. Sometimes they would have to backtrack when they came to a section that was blocked by trees. Eventually they ran out of road.

Gibbs and Tony found themselves in short order on a large flat-bottom boat capable of holding 16 people comfortably. Their assignment - to entice as many survivors as they could into leaving the flooded area. A young bearded man, native of the area, sat aft next to the motor ready to guide them through the area. Mark was staying behind to coordinate things. "Besides, I’d just take up space that could be used by someone else."

They pushed off, the water being only a couple of feet high and started going from house to house. The few people still there were stubborn, not wanting to leave in spite of everything. Gibbs was impressed in spite of himself as he watched Tony use his charm to sweet talk most into leaving. The times when Tony’s charm didn't work, Gibbs would take over, intimidating them into coming along.

After a while, they got to the area where the water was over the roofs of houses. From this point they had no trouble as they picked up people stranded on rooftops. Soon the boat was filled to capacity.

They were headed back to drop their passengers off, when they spotted a young couple, carrying a small child wading through chest high water. The boat was already filled to overloading. Gibbs was in a quandary. He didn't want to leave them to wander through the streets, but he didn't see much choice.

The young man steering the boat shouted over the roar of the engine. "I hear tell the French Quarter is still dry. It’s just half a mile that-a-way." He cocked his head to the right. Gibbs and Tony exchanged looks. That decided it. The two agents got out of the boat and helped the young couple in. As they watched the boat slowly pull away, the two turned and silently headed in the direction of the French Quarter.

***

It was slow going as the two men trudged through chest high water toward the French Quarter. As it got closer to dusk, the water level gradually dropped to waist high, then thigh high as they got closer to higher ground.

Tony was wet, tired and thirsty. "Water, water everywhere and n’ere a drop to drink," Tony muttered as he followed along blindly in Gibbs’ wake.

Gibbs grunted as he trudged along, seeming to have a natural mental compass in his head. At the sound of breaking glass, both men froze before moving swiftly to an alley, the only available cover at the moment. Gibbs pulled his gun, as they slid down against a brick wall, making themselves as small a target as they could. The sound of several young men running past met their ears, in the last of the dim light they could just barely make out some carrying clothing and dry goods, it appeared that one of them was carrying a large flat-screen TV.

Once his heart rate returned to normal, Gibbs stood up and tucked his weapon back in its holster.
He shook his head ruefully. He could understand stealing food and water in an emergency, not to mention dry clothing. Not that he approved. But the TV?

Tony was standing next to him. "We going after them, Boss?" Tony asked, his voice grim.
Gibbs shook his head. Two against no telling how many? It wasn’t worth it.

"Boss?"

Daylight had faded and they were in total darkness now. Gibbs realized that Tony couldn't see the movement of his head. "Nah. Not worth it," he said as he started off again. Echoes of shots could be heard throughout the area and Gibbs decided it best not to risk using his flashlight.

He’d taken a dozen steps when he realized Tony wasn’t with him. Turning back, he could just make out a dark shadow moving off in another direction. "DiNozzo!" he hissed and the movement stopped. Gibbs hurried toward it, reaching out to make sure it was Tony. Thinking he had Tony by the arm, he moved his hand down planning to take him by the wrist so they wouldn’t lose each other in the dark.

A hand clamped down on his wrist. "Ummm….Boss? That’s not my hand." Tony gurgled. Only then did he realize that Tony was standing on the curb while he was standing in the street. Gibbs’ fingers lightly traced the hardening object he’d inadvertently encountered. He felt it jerk and harden even more.

"Boss!!" Tony whimpered, his grip tightening on Gibbs’ wrist.

"Sorry," Gibbs whispered, not sorry at all. His hand found Tony’s, lacing their fingers together, determined not to loose him in the darkness and he started back off. He half expected Tony to pull away from him, or at least make some caustic remark, but he didn't.

They continued walking, Gibbs taking some comfort in knowing exactly where Tony was. The water level had dropped and they were now on dry ground. They walked slowly, trying to keep from tripping on the rubble that littered the street.

Suddenly they were on a street that was fairly clear of debris. Their attention had been so taken with watching where they were going that they didn't notice a man coming up behind them, a hurricane lamp held aloft and a shotgun tucked under one arm until he asked, "Anything I can do for you gentlemen?"

Gibbs could feel Tony jump slightly as he pulled his hand from Gibbs clasp. Turning around Gibbs noted that the man appeared to be about 45 years of age, his demeanor non-threatening in spite of the shot-gun and said the first thing that came to his head. "Got any coffee?"

The man’s smile was rueful, "Nope. Got beer, wine and bottled water." He turned and started back the way he had come, pausing after a few steps to indicate they follow him.

"Shouldn’t you have evacuated?" Tony asked the retreating back.

"And leave my property to be looted. Don’t get me wrong. New Orleans people are the greatest, but times like these bring out the crazies. Not to mention that quite frankly I didn't think it would get this bad," the man said as he led them through a door and up some stairways to a hurricane lamp lit second floor. "You’re not from around here are you? Names Marty by the way. What’s yours?"

The room wasn’t very large, but the lack of lighting made it seem as if it were. There were boxes all over the place, filled with cans and bottles. It looked like the stockroom for a bar, except for the couch and table and chairs that were bunched together to make room for the boxes.

Gibbs sank down on the sofa. "We’re N.C.I.S. agents. Special Agent Gibbs. This is Special Agent DiNozzo." Tony nodded wearily, plopping down onto one of the chairs surrounding the table.

Marty left the room and came back with a couple of bottles of water and handed them to the two agents. "Well, Special Agent Gibbs, what brings the two of you to the French Quarter in the dead of night?"

Gibbs gulped down the entire bottle before answering. "Me and my team came down to help."

"Got stranded when we took in more people then we had room for," Tony finished with a yawn, his head resting on the table.

Marty, coming back with some food and more water looked at him with a grin. "You’re welcome to stay here."

"Thanks," Gibbs said simply as he nudged Tony awake.

Marty set some food down in front of Tony, who woke up enough to say, worshipfully, "Food."
The two made quick work of their meal, after which they followed Marty as he showed them where they could wash up. They were not the only stray’s Marty had taken in, so he apologized for the accommodations, a small room with what appeared to be an antique three-quarter bed. It was just a little bigger than a twin. Gibbs assured Marty that it would be fine, refused the offer of a hurricane lamp saying he’d use the flashlight he carried, before going off to take care of business.

Gibbs returned to find Tony sprawled across the bed. Tony clothing was scattered on the floor, leaving him only in his boxers. Gibbs cocked an eye in amusement. Tony normally didn't wear that much. Shaking his head, Gibbs pulled off his pants, the bottom of which were still damp, and his shirt, arranging them across the back of a wooden chair.

Gibbs sat on the mattress and shut off the flashlight. The room was enveloped in darkness and Tony was hogging the bed. Gibbs gave Tony a nudge. "Move over."

Tony didn't move, so Gibbs nudged a little harder. Gibbs thought that Tony evidently got the message. An "Ahhhh," rang out and Gibbs just managed to dive across the bed and wrap his arms around Tony as he turned over, nearly going over the side.

"DiNozzo, you okay?" Gibbs gasped.

"Wha’ happen." A loud yawn followed. "So…tired."

Gibbs frowned. That was not like Tony. First he was experiencing soreness in his muscles, now he was tiring easily. Letting Tony accompany him to Louisiana might not have been a good idea.

Gibbs quickly hauled Tony back on the bed, pulling his lax body against him. Holding onto Tony might be the only way the two of them would be able to sleep in this bed.

They lay there in the dark, Tony’s softly furred chest rising and falling beneath his hand. Gibbs couldn't help running his free hand up and down, ruffling the hair on Tony’s chest. Tony must have like it, because he started squirming, grinding his boxer covered ass into Gibbs’ groin.

"Tony!" Gibbs hissed. Tony’s rear kept wiggling, seemingly unaware of the effect it was having on Gibbs. At least that is what he thought until Tony’s hand guided his hand down Tony’s softly furred chest to underneath the waistband of his boxers.

"DiNozzo?"

Tony didn't respond, except to let out a sigh and a soft purr. Gibbs raised his head, in the darkness he couldn't be sure but he thought Tony had a smile on his face. He appeared completely zonked otherwise. Unable to resist, Gibbs let his fingers go lower, and came into immediate contact with the head of Tony’s cock. Did Tony always get this hard when he slept or was it still hard from the teasing that Gibbs had done earlier?

Was Tony doing it on purpose? If so, two could play at that game. Gibbs really didn't care as his own expanding cock began thrusting forward; establishing a rhythm with Tony’s rocking motion while he gently stroked the hard shaft, hearing Tony’s sighs of contentment. It felt good, but Gibbs wanted bare skin against bare skin. Gibbs removed his hand, pausing as Tony whimpered in disappointment, and he pushed Tony’s boxers lower.

Undoing the button to his own shorts, Gibbs let his erection spring free then reached out to cup Tony’s balls, rolling them. He fully expected Tony to react to having his genitals handled, but Tony only pushed back against him, purring loudly. Gibbs snickered silently, his lips curving into a wicked smile. Tony had proven he could sleep anywhere, anytime.

Sliding his hand along Tony’s hip, stroking the exposed ass, thinking how soft and smooth. Wondering if Tony used Honey Dust, betting he didn’t know that Gibbs’ knew all along where the box he’d gotten for Christmast came from. Tony was making sounds like a motorboat. He couldn't possible be still asleep. Only one way to find out, Gibbs thought as he pressed his throbbing cock down and slipped it in between Tony’s ass cheeks. Tony’s thighs automatically clamped down on him causing Gibbs to gasp. He tapped Tony on his hip and his thigh muscles relaxed, keeping Gibbs cock trapped, just not as tightly.

Gibbs was debating how to proceed when Tony’s upper leg moved, massaging the length of his cock and at the same time scooting back. He could feel the underside of Tony’s balls against the tip of his cock making it jump. He backed off, then thrust his hip forward again. Sliding his hand across Tony’s hip, he reached for the shaft that practically jumped into his hand, stroking it in time to his thrusts.

Somewhere someone was strumming on a guitar. Several voices rang out in song. Then a trumpet joined in. Gibbs didn't recognize the song, but the tune was upbeat. He couldn't make out the words but there was a joyous sound to it. It amazed Gibbs that even with this adversity these people weren’t moping around.

Tony had to be aware of what was happening. His body was moving to the beat. The music was heating up and so was Gibbs. It had been awhile for Gibbs, but he estimated it had to have been even longer for Tony. As the music rose to a crescendo so did Tony with Gibbs not far behind. The music ended to foot stampings and whistles while Gibbs’ eyes closed and he fell asleep.


***

McGee had been all psyched up when he arrived, ready and willing to help in any way he could. He’d been introduced to the person-in-charge and his credentials proudly explained. The elderly man had looked over his glasses, clearly unimpressed.

"We’re without electricity. There’s a laptop. Here enter these," he said, thrusting a handful of handwritten sheets of paper at him, before turning and walking away.

McGee stood there, his mouth open until a young lady took pity on him and pointed out an available computer. The laptop was old and way out-of-date. The enormity of the task hit him as he accessed the program and quickly reviewed the protocols, his mind quickly finding ways to vastly improve the process. Just putting in the data would be a major task.

His enthusiasm wavered when his first two attempts at informing the bureaucrat-in-charge of possible improvements had been rebuffed.

"Just enter the information." McGee had gruffly been informed. He clamped his jaw tightly shut and settled down to do just that, certain that if Gibbs had been in charge his changes would have been implemented.

People were being moved all over the country and this database was quite probably the only way to trace them. All the records were written by hand, some even worse then Tony’s hieroglyphics. Never, never would McGee have thought he would miss Tony’s bantering and picking as much as he did. Not that the people around him were rude. Everyone was just so tied up with their own work that no one had time for him.

Everyone except for one girl, her dark eyes hidden behind thick glasses and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She appeared to be nothing more then a gofer, but she always made sure he had something to eat and drink, patiently explaining some of the more indecipherable writing in a soft southern accented voice.

It was around seven, and everyone was leaving for the evening, when he thought of getting in touch with the rest of the team. He pulled out his cell phone, hit speed dial and got the message that all cell lines were down due to the emergency. He stared at it in disbelief, here he was with no way to contact Tony or Gibbs or even Ducky. He had no idea where they were or worse yet where he was.

A clearing of a throat brought him back to the present. The young girl who had been so kind to him stood there, biting her bottom lip.

She took off her thick glasses and held out her hand. "Hi, I’m Heather."

"Timothy McGee." He responded taking her small hand in his.

"Ya’ll got a place to stay?" Heather asked.

"No. Not yet," McGee said hesitantly.

"The reason I ask," the girl rushed on, her fingers playing with the bottom of her blouse. "Is that my room-mate and I have an apartment not far from here. And what with the electricity being out and all…well we’d feel better if a man were around."

McGee thought about it. What with not being able to get in touch with Ducky he really had no place to stay. "That’s very kind of you, but are you sure your room-mate won’t object."

"Oh, no. She’s right over there," Heather said pointing toward the door where a blonde stood, shyly waved.

McGee thought about it, some more. Heather seemed nice enough. "Well…if you’re sure it’s no bother."

"Oh no. It’s no bother at all," Heather said firmly, taking him by the arm. They walked to the door where Heather introduced McGee to her room-mate Tracy. Tracy latched on to his other arm and they all left the building together.


"So are you two from around here," McGee asked the two girls clinging to him as they walked down the darkened street, his flashlight lighting the way.

Heather giggled. "No. I’m originally from Mandeville. Tracy here is from up north."

Tracy laughed. "She means I’m from Natchitoches. I’m down here attending LSU’s Veterinary School."

"Are you a vet school student, too?" McGee asked Heather.

Tracy smothered a giggle. "Heather is a career student."

Heather stuck her tongue out at Tracy.

They reached the apartment building and started up the narrow, dark stairway. One of the girls fumbled in her purse, getting her key. With the help of McGee’s flashlight they managed to unlock the door. The girls immediately kicked off their shoes, one headed toward the kitchen, the other to the bedroom tossing over her shoulder a ‘make yourself at home.’

McGee stood by the front door and almost jumped out of his skin when something brushed against his ankle.

Tracy came out of the bedroom, a bunch of candles in her hand, wearing a very short pair of shorts. "Beastly!" she called. The cat that had been rubbing against McGee leaped into her arms.

Heather called from the kitchen. "We have running water."

"Good," Tracy said, dropping the cat on the sofa and lighting the candles, placing them around the room. "Hey, Timmy, I thought we told you to get comfortable." She dragged him toward the sofa pulling off his jacket as she did. "What’s that?" she called to Heather who was coming from the kitchen carrying several large cartons.

"Ice cream," Heather said setting them down on the coffee table and handing out spoons. "It’s melting."

The two girls sat cross-legged at each end of the coffee table, while McGee sat on the sofa. Even though he didn't know these girls, something about them put him at ease. Perhaps it was the way they straightforwardly accepted him into their home, not making any pretenses or playing any games. He picked up a spoon and dug in.

Tracy jumped up. "How about some wine?"

"Wine and ice cream?" McGee asked doubtfully.

"Why not?" Tracy shrugged.

So they ate and drank, talking far into the night. The cat weaving in and out around the three, jumping on the coffee table, sniffing into the cartons. Finally all the ice cream was gone, the three decidedly mellow from the wine.

"Time for bed," Tracy announced suddenly.

McGee, who assumed he’d be sleeping on the couch, found himself double-teamed and stripped of all his clothing. The two girls dragged him, not so unwillingly into the bedroom. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what Gibbs, Tony and Ducky were up to. But at the moment it just didn't seem to matter.

***

Ducky let out a heavy sigh as he sat waiting in one of the offices while they tried to decide which one of the hospitals to send him to. Bureaucrats, he thought with disgust. He had no intention of sitting around while there were people out there that needed his help. He left the room, stopping at the water-cooler for a drink.

Spotting a group of young men dressed in uniforms passing, Ducky threw his paper cup in the trash. "Excuse me. Can you tell me where the nearest shelter is?"

One of the young men looked at him strangely. "Yes, sir. We’re on my way to one now."

"Mind if I join you?"

The group exchanged looks. Ducky pulled out his identification. One of the young men took it, looked at Ducky then handed the id back. "Be our pleasure, sir."

Ducky smiled and headed toward the door, the group surrounding him on all sides. He stopped to gather up his suitcase. Two of the young men automatically picked up the duffels left by Gibbs and Tony.

Half an hour later Ducky stood in the doorway of the shelter and sucked in a deep breath. A sea of cots stretched out before him. Some of the people were wandering around aimlessly; others lay upon the cots trying to sleep. Young people, old people, people of every color mingled together. People ripped from their homes with no place else to go.

Almost belatedly he remembered to thank the young men who had brought him here. Then he heard the sound of laughter. A group of children were playing games in one corner. The whole hurricane business was one big game to them.

Ducky picked up his medical bag and started walking through the crowd. A young mother sat on a cot, rocking a crying child in her lap. He stopped and knelt beside her. "Is something wrong?" he asked gently.

The mother blinked. "I’m … not sure," she said hesitantly.

"Let’s have a look, shall we," Ducky said reaching for his stethoscope. His work here just beginning. He wandered around at will offering comfort and encouragement, noting he wasn’t the only one giving medical aid. He had no trouble making acquaintance with his associates as they all worked toward treating the evacuees. Some had cuts, some had sniffles and some were just plain scared.

He found himself listening as eagerly as anyone there, as rumors of how New Orleans was faring trickled through the crowd. Some of it was good, but a lot was not. Someone said New Orleans was completely gone. Ducky hoped not, New Orleans as a city was a personal favorite of his and he would deeply regret the loss of the French Quarter.

Around four-thirty Ducky decided to check up on his NCIS comrades. He was mildly disgruntled to find that NCIS cell phones were not working. He cast about in his memory for an acquaintance, someone who could help with this problem while mentally preparing a memo he would send to the director. When no one immediately came to mind, he shrugged it off. He had every faith in Gibbs ability to protect Tony and McGee was no child that needed to be held by the hand.

While he pondered on this, he couldn't help but notice a woman of about Gibbs age watching him surreptitiously. She was dressed in medical garb, but he knew instinctively that she wasn’t a doctor. A nurse, perhaps? At the moment she was staring directly at him. "Can I help you?" he asked, curious to know why she was looking at him so intensely.

The woman blinked, snapping out of it. "I’m sorry," she apologized, her face turning bright red. "It’s just that you remind me of someone."

"Oh, whom," Ducky inquired raising an eyebrow.

"This is going to sound silly, but I’m not sure," she laughed. "Marie Comstock." She held out her hand as she introduced herself. While not young by any means, her light brown hair framed her face becomingly. Her eyes a light brown, almost hazel, that matched her hair.

"Dr. Donald Mallard. My friends call me Ducky."

Marie smiled uncertainly. "May I assist you?"

The two worked companionably, their teamwork flawless. Suddenly Marie jumped. "Oh!"

Ducky cast an inquiring eye.

"I just remembered." Marie explained. Ducky waited patiently. "Illya Kuryakin. That’s who you remind me of."

"Oh, him," Ducky said mildly before heaving a heavy sigh. Marie looked at him questioningly. "So I’ve been told. Personally I don’t see it myself."

Marie stepped closer to him, "Oh he’s okay, but he has nothing on you," she said breathlessly, smiling fondly at the astonished look on Ducky’s face.

Suddenly Ducky instinctively knew he wouldn’t have to worry about where he was spending the night.

***

Gibbs looked up from his seat at the table, the cap from the thermos poised at his lips. Tony DiNozzo came tromping down the stairs, the top three buttons of his shirt still unbutton, a perplexed look upon his face.

"Sleep well?" Gibbs asked mildly.

"Never better," Tony said frowning, as he continued to button his shirt. Suddenly he raised his head, sniffing the air. "Is that coffee I smell?"

"Sure is. Help yourself," Gibbs said, pushing the thermos toward him. If Tony was unaware of to what he owed his good nights sleep, far be it for Gibbs to enlighten him.

A knock at the door had awakened Gibbs that morning and Marty’s voice had called through that a Mark Hayes was downstairs waiting for him. Gibbs had grunted his acknowledgement that he’d heard the message and gotten up. Tony was still sound asleep, his body covered in dry cum. Gibbs had gone out and gotten a wet cloth, cleaning Tony up as best as he could. He pulled up Tony’s boxers covering the smooth, round ass and the cock that was even now hardening again, just as his always did upon awakening. All without getting a reaction of any kind from Tony. That in itself worried him. He should not have been able to do that.

Mark came in from the outside, a clipboard in his hand. He walked over to where Gibbs sat, then spotted Tony. He smiled and said brightly, "Hey, DiNozzo! You look like shit."

Gibbs frowned. It was one thing for him to harangue his men, quite another for someone else to do it. Even if he was an old friend. Gibbs took a closer look at Tony. Mark was right. Tony did look under-the-weather.

"Knock it off, Mark," Gibbs ordered. He got up, moving closer to Tony and murmured, "Feeling okay?"

"I’m fine," Tony said sharply, his eyes boring daggers at Mark.

"Tony," Gibbs said warningly.

Tony looked at him. "I’m fine. Honest," he insisted.

Mark was reviewing the sheets on his clipboard. "I think that’s it, Gunny. See you in Baton Rouge."

"Got’cha. Let’s move out, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he moved out into the courtyard, stopping to thank Marty for his hospitality.

"What’s the plan, Boss?" Tony asked when he caught up.

Gibbs didn't answer right away. Moving briskly through the streets, his mind flashed back to previous times spent in the French Quarter, seeing and comparing the destruction the hurricane had wrought with his memory. Of Mardi Gras’ past.

"We go out, pick up people that are stranded and ferry them to the drop-off point. Think you’re up to it?"

"No problem." Tony said. He too was moving briskly, half a step behind Gibbs. "You been here before?"

Gibbs nodded. "You?"

"Nah. Always meant to."

Their guide of the other day was waiting for them. He greeted each in turn and set out. Sometime during mid-day it started pouring again.

"I’m not leavin’ and you can’t make me," the elderly woman was saying from the window in her third story apartment. The only one left in the building, the others having evacuated before the storm hit.

Gibbs let out a sigh of frustration and turned away.

Tony tried to reason with her. "You can not stay here, ma’am. Why didn't you leave with the rest of the tenants?"

"They wouldn’t let me bring my baby," the woman insisted.

The two men exchanged perplexed looks. "Wouldn’t let you bring what?" Gibbs asked. The woman had to have been in her sixties, if she was a day. Her short grey hair curling around her face.

"My baby," the woman said reaching down to pick up a small fluff of fur. The grey curly object in her arms proved to be a dog. "They wouldn’t let me bring baby, would they sweetums," the woman reiterated as she thrust the little dog toward Tony and it enthusiastically began licking his face.

Gibbs turned away to smother the smile that threatened to show itself. He pretended not to notice when Tony unzipped his windbreaker and tucked the little dog into it nor the wide toothless smile the woman flashed Tony as he helped her into the boat.

They continued to rescue several more people. Gibbs looked back to the aft where Tony sat huddled in the back of boat, a racking cough coursing through him. He was just on the point of asking the pilot to head back to the drop-off area when he heard a squeaking sound. Squinting in the rain, he made out a small form paddling for all it was worth in the water. He reached down as they passed close to it and pulled up a small wet bedraggled kitten. Holding it up, he debated on setting it back into the water.

"Boss?" Tony was next to him, his eyes pleading. The message in his eyes plain.

"Geeze, DiNozzo." Gibbs said with exasperation even as he unzipped his windbreaker and stuffed the kitten inside.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said flashing a mega-watt smile. Gibbs smiled guiltily and looked away.

***

They were almost to the drop-off point. The bundle in Tony’s shirt started wiggling causing Tony to wiggle too. "Shit!" Tony muttered. The dog had somehow managed to work its way into Tony’s shirt. "Damn thing’s trying to nurse." Tony pulled the little animal from the inside of his shirt by the scruff of its neck and glared at it. The little bugger just looked at him, panted, then let out a couple of short yips.

Gibbs turned away to hide his snicker.

They arrived at the drop-off point where Mark was waiting, along with a bus, to greet them and Gibbs once again turned away as Tony raised a finger to his lips before slipping the tiny dog back to its owner with a wink. In spite of his cheekiness, Gibbs could tell Tony was flagging.

Gibbs couldn't help notice Mark watching Tony with a critical eye as he helped the last of their evacuees from the craft. They were lining up to get on the bus.

"Were to next, Boss?" Tony asked as he zipped his jacket back up.

Before Gibbs could answer, Mark butted in. "I was sort of hoping the two of you would go along and help settle this batch in."

Gibbs sent a grateful glance Mark’s way before herding Tony onto the bus. He pushed Tony forward until they reached the back of the bus and slid onto the long seat, climbing across Tony to sit by the window.

The ride back to Baton Rouge was made in silence, everyone being too tired. Gibbs was staring out the window, seeing nothing but darkness when he felt Tony shift at his side. Tony’s head dropped to Gibbs shoulder before sliding down his chest, disturbing the kitten, and coming to rest on his lap.

Tony looked exhausted and Gibbs didn't have the heart to move him. The kitten on the other hand had other ideas. Now that it was dry, it looked more like a multi-colored ball of fluff and could not have weighed more than a pound or two. It stuck its head out of Gibbs’ jacket, sputtering indignantly before scrambling out and sliding down. It tilted its head, sniffed then batted its little paw at Tony’s nose. Gibbs reached to snatch the kitten way before it woke Tony, but before he could do so it curled up under Tony’s chin and fell asleep.

***

The sudden lack of motion startled Gibbs who had fallen asleep with his head resting against the window. Tony was still asleep, his breathing shallow, sweat dripping from his forehead even as his head moved up and down Gibbs’ thigh rather like a cat rubbing up against one and causing some expansion under Gibbs’ slacks. The kitten was still nestled under Tony’s chin, though how it managed it Gibbs had no idea.

Gibbs reached down and shook Tony’s shoulder, dislodging the kitten from its place. The kitten spared him an indignant look, before flattening out and sneaking beneath Tony’s windbreaker.
Tony’s eyes opened and they had a glazed look to them.

"We’re here," Gibbs said simply.

Tony appeared to think that over, then pulled himself up with a groan and stretched totally unaware that he now carried a passenger. They were the last passengers off the bus. Gibbs watched with concern as Tony clung to the seats to steady himself as he moved forward.

"Tony?"

"I’m fine, Boss. Honest." Tony tossed back, but the moment they were on solid ground Tony’s legs buckled. It was Tony’s good fortune that Gibbs caught him before he hit the ground.

"Sure you are, DiNozzo," Gibbs said sarcastically as he slung Tony’s arm over his shoulder and almost went down himself. "Good grief. You been lifting weights lately?"

Gibbs knew something was seriously wrong when Tony giggled.

"Jethro!"

Thank God, Gibbs thought as the two entered the building and the medical examiner rushed over.

"What on earth is wrong with Tony?" Ducky demanded to know as he helped a giggling Tony down upon a cot.

"Don’t know, Duck," Gibbs said wearily as he sank down next to Tony.

"You’re both damp," Ducky complained. "Marie dear," he called out only to find her already there, a stack of towels in her hands. "Thank you; now help me get these wet clothes off them."

The expression on Ducky’s face as he managed to unzip a giggling Tony’s wind breaker, then stepped away was indescribable. "Oh my," was the only thing he managed to say.

Marie on the other hand had to turn away, covering her mouth in order to muffle the laughter that managed to escape. The small multi-colored kitten had somehow managed to insinuate itself inside Tony’s shirt and was kneading his breast as it sucked on his nipple.

"Poor thing, it must be hungry," Marie said as she got herself under control and plucked the little kitten away.

"If that’s the case, it ain’t getting anything that way," Gibbs snickered.

"No fair, Boss," Tony gasped then turned to his side coughing up phlegm. Suddenly Gibbs wasn’t snickering anymore.

"How long as he been like this?" Ducky asked, an expression of concern on his face.

Gibbs thought back, he’d lost track of time. "I guess about 24 hours."

"Marie, get me…" Before he was finished she was already placing a syringe in his hand. "You are a gem, my dear." Gibbs eyebrows went up at that statement. "Turn over, Tony; this is for your own good."

Tony took one look at the syringe and turned away undoing his belt to facilitate the lowering of his pants. "That’s what my parents said when they made me go into sports," Tony muttered sleepily into the pillow.

"I thought you were glad your parents made you go into sports," Gibbs asked with a frown.

"I lied. I really wanted to take dance lessons," Tony said into the pillow.

Ducky and Gibbs exchanged incredulous looks.

"The cutest girls were taking lessons," Tony reminisced. "Ouch."

Gibbs had popped him on the back of the head at the same time Ducky stuck the needle into his buttocks.

"Will he be okay?" Gibbs moved close to Ducky to ask in a low tone.

"Oh yes," Ducky affirmed. "Once the antibiotic starts taking affect he should be fine. However, I don’t want him out in this weather."

"You can’t do that, Ducky. Gibbs needs me. Don’t you, Boss?" Tony had turned back over and was looking up hopefully at Gibbs while rubbing his rear-end.

Gibbs sighed heavily. "You heard Ducky, DiNozzo. You’re grounded."

"Shit," Tony responded as he flopped back on the cot.

Gibbs pulled Ducky aside to ask, "Have you heard anything from McGee?"

"Ah, yes. Timothy. I’ve heard he’s doing quite well," Ducky said vaguely.

"Dearest," Marie called, holding the little kitten close. "Since my place has electricity, why don’t we take your friends there? We can drop Snookee Poo off at the same time."

"Snookee Poo!" Gibbs and Tony said in unison.

"Excellent idea, my dear," Ducky said as Gibbs reached down to help Tony up.

Slinging Tony’s arm over his shoulder once again, Gibbs leaned forward to talk around Tony and asked Ducky, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"A Gentleman never kisses and tells," was the only response he got.

***

Tony stood on the sidewalk and stared in utter awe at the house that belonged to Ducky’s friend. It was tall and narrow, definitely aged, matching the other homes on the street. The hurricane had left its mark here. Shingles were missing, shutters were tilted and new coat of paint would not have hurt, then maybe it wouldn’t have looked so much like a cross between a mansion and a haunted house.

"It looks like something out of the Adams Family," Tony said in an aside to Gibbs. He automatically winched in anticipation of the slap upside his head he knew was coming. When it didn't occur, he looked sideways at Gibbs was looking at the house critically.

"Reminds me of Ducky’s place … in a creepy sorta way." Gibbs said as he stood close.

Tony took another look, twisting his head trying to see what Gibbs saw. True it did have a wide porch, but the white paint was chipped and it lacked the elegance of the Mallard residence. Gibbs, one hand gripping Tony’s forearm supporting him, was pulling him forward, up the stone steps, across the porch and into the house following Ducky into a hallway that ran from the front of the house to the back. Even with the lights on the place looked gloomy. Passing a stairway, Tony looked up and saw that it curved around and around, making him dizzy.

"The house has been in Marie’s family for years. There’s just not enough money to keep it up as it should be," Ducky had stopped to speak softly to the two men, while Marie dropped the kitten to the floor as she entered a room situated at the end of the hall.

By the time the guys reached the room, which proved to be the kitchen, Marie was setting a bowl of milk down on the floor. She looked up at them and smiled. "I feel as if I know you both. Ducky has told me so much about you."

"Oh?" Gibbs asked, turning to look pointedly at Ducky.

Ducky belatedly realized his bad manners, in the excitement of seeing Gibbs and worrying about Tony, he had completely forgotten to introduce them. "Ah….yes. Marie Comstock, as you surmised this is Jethro Gibbs and Anthony DiNozzo. Marie and I have been…um…working together."

"Work?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow. He somehow had the idea that more then work was involved in their relationship.

"Yes," Ducky said firmly. "Marie was kind enough to offer to let me…us to stay here.

"Well, it only seemed sensible. I knew Ducky was looking for hotel space for you, and really there is nothing available, and I have this great big house." Marie tossed in, seeing that Ducky was looking apprehensive about the way the conversation was going.

"We were just…ah…admiring you house," Tony said, catching on and helping to change the subject.

"How sweet of you to put it that way." Marie’s eyes twinkled. "When my great-grandfather bought it, he already had a large family. There are four bedrooms and two baths downstairs, three bedrooms and one bath on the second floor and one big room on the third. You’re welcome to use any one of them."

"Perhaps the second floor?" Ducky said giving Marie a significant look.

"That’s a marvelous idea. The first room at the top of the stairs is all ready. My niece and her room-mate sometimes use it. And well… it would afford them more privacy." Marie agreed, blushing slightly.

Gibbs picked up on the fact that it was not his and Tony’s privacy that Ducky and Marie were concerned with. "Sounds good to me. You up to it, DiNozzo?" At the blank look on Tony’s face, Gibbs clarified. "Think you can make up to the stairs?"

"Good. I believe your duffels are around here someplace," Ducky interrupted before Tony could respond.

"Clothes! Clean clothes?" Tony brightened up immediately, forgetting about the scathing remark he’d been about to make.

"Ducky, you’re a prince," Tony stated sincerely when the duffels were located and handed over. He stood at the foot of the stairs and looked up. The stairs were dimly lighted and looked steep from where he was standing.

"What you waiting for, DiNozzo. For me to carry you up?" Gibbs asked as he swept past Tony with his duffel and headed up the stairs.

"Nah, boss," Tony said quickly picking up his own and hurrying up the stairs.

"Jethro? Could I have a word with you?" Ducky called before Gibbs had gotten too far.

Gibbs looked down at Ducky then at Tony, gave a shrug and passed his duffel to Tony before heading back down the stairs.

Tony continued upward at a fast pace. By the time he got to the landing of the second floor he was breathing heavily and he didn't know why. He squatted down resting his arms on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

When he was feeling steadier, Tony checked out the bedroom situation. The first room he checked had one twin bed; the next room was larger and contained two doubles. There was a connecting bath between that room and yet another room which was filled with cast-off items.

"What did Ducky want?" Tony asked when Gibbs finally rounded the stairwell.

"Nothing much," Gibbs said, going to his duffel that Tony had thrown on one of the beds and started unpacking. "He and Marie are going back to the shelter. We’re to help ourselves to anything we want from the kitchen."

Just the way Tony uttered the word "Food!" as if he hadn’t eaten in days, brought an amused smile to Gibbs face. Come to think of it, it wasn’t far from the truth. About as far as what Gibbs had told Tony just now. True Marie had offered to fix them something to eat and reminded Ducky that they needed to get back to the shelter, but it wasn’t the complete story. Ducky had handed over some antibiotics for Tony to take and then proceed to read Gibbs the riot act.

"He’s not an invalid, Ducky"

"I know that. He’s not a hundred percent either. His immune system is down. The standing water alone could contain who knows what…" Ducky’s response had been almost venomous. Gibbs had never seen him so mad. "He can’t go back there. I won’t allow it."

Gibbs was thinking of that conversation when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Tony looking longingly at the bath evidently debating which he needed more.

"Tell you what. Why don’t you clean up and I’ll go see what the kitchen holds," Gibbs suggested as he stripped off his mud splattered clothing.

Tony held his hands together in a prayerful position. "Thank you, Boss. I’ll leave you a little something in my will," he said before grabbing his duffel and moving swiftly to the bath shutting the door behind him.

Gibbs frowned as he went down the stairs. That remark, playfully made, had cut a little to close to home. He should have known Tony wasn’t up to this, but Tony had been looking good. He forgotten Tony’s tendency to put up a good front. Even though Ducky had assured him that Tony would be fine, he felt guilty. Something he was unfamiliar with and he planned on making Tony pay for making him feel that way, sick or not.

***

Gibbs was mulling over how he was going to make Tony pay, a tray with two bowls of hot soup and two cups of coffee in his hands, when he heard it.

"Boss. Oh, Boooossss." Tony sounded in a total panic.

Gibbs hurriedly set the tray down, it was a wonder he didn't drop it, pulled out his gun and burst into the bathroom. Arms straight, he swung his gun around in a standard shooters stance, lowering it when nothing remotely dangerous appeared in to be in evidence. Nothing that is except Tony, an extremely red faced Tony, sitting in a tub that had to be older than Ducky.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs queried as he put away his gun.

"Ummm…sorry, Boss," Tony apologized. "I can’t seem to get out of this damn tub," he continued as he struggled to get up, slipping back down and splashing water over the sides of the tub that hid most of Tony from view.

Gibbs arched an eyebrow and looked over the side. Tony’s face reddened even more and he moved a washcloth to cover his privates. "It might help if you let out some of the water," he said mildly. That earned him an indignant look and a soapy washcloth in the chest.

Leaning against the door jam with arms crossed, Gibbs watched as Tony reached down, searching for the stopper. As the water lowered Tony made a request. "Could you hand me a towel?"

"What for?" Gibbs countered amusement glinting in his eyes. "I’ve seen you nekkid before."

Chuckling to himself, Gibbs watched as Tony tightened his jaw, placed both hands on the sides of the tube and stood up. Gibbs eyes widened as he finally saw the package he’d felt but not seen the night before.

Tony must have risen too swiftly. He sucked in a breath, then his eyes rolled back and Gibbs had to move fast to catch him. Somehow he managed to pull Tony from the tub, holding him tightly, getting himself all wet in the process. Tony’s body was limp in his arms. Gibbs was debating lying him down and giving him CPR when he felt Tony shudder and his head drop heavily to rest on his shoulder.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked softly and felt Tony’s head nod. His hands made soothing circling motions down Tony’s back and he bit back a smile as he felt Tony respond to his touch.

"At the moment I’d have to say that I’m not good for much. Am I, Boss?" Tony managed to sound bitter and forlorn at the same time.

Reluctantly Gibbs backed away. He heaved a sigh when Tony kept his head down. Cupping Tony’s face, Gibbs brought Tony’s head up and looked him in the eye, wondering what he could say that would make a difference. The green eyes lacked their usual confidence. Gibbs had to resist the urge to run his thumb over Tony’s lips. The memory of Tony lying in the isolation room came unbidden to his mind. "A while back I gave you a direct order, DiNozzo. That order is still in effect."

A tiny smile lit Tony’s face and Gibbs could see that Tony was remembering that incident as well. Gibbs reached for the towel hanging nearby and handed it over. "Soups getting cold," he said abruptly. It took all his willpower to turn away, and he missed the look of disappointment on Tony’s face.

Tony swaggered into the bedroom, the towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. He zeroed in on the bowl, swooping it up before sitting on one of the beds. Gibbs shook his head, laughing to himself as he did likewise. Tony’s confidence was obviously back.

"What is it?" Tony asked as he scooped up a spoonful and sniffing.

"The can said chicken noodle," Gibbs replied as Tony sipped.

Tony’s eyes closed as he savored the flavor. He opened them and pointed with his spoon to the dish. "This is not from a can," he said accusingly.

"And how would you know?" Gibbs asked, enjoying pulling Tony’s chain. He started to bring the spoon to his lips, his mouth open, as he spied a small paw showing out from under Tony’s chosen bed. The small paw was followed by a small head. A small blue eye winked at him, and he watched with astonishment as the rest of the body slid out from under the bed and started climbing the bed spread between Tony’s legs. How had the little thing made it up the flight of stairs?

"Tony?"

"Yeah, boss." Tony looked up just as the kitten made it up under his towel. Tony jumped up, letting out a yelp, covering his privates as his towel dropped to the ground.

Gibbs finished his soup as Tony and the kitten glared indignantly at each other. Setting his empty bowl aside, Gibbs grabbed his duffel and headed for the bath. It had been a long day and was late, besides he needed a little privacy to take care of a little problem that had surfaced when he’d held Tony’s naked body to his own.

***

Gibbs dreams that night were filled with erotic images of Tony. He rolled over in the morning and found Tony lying next to him. Not that he was complaining, but he wondered why. Gibbs lifted his head and looked over at the other bed and saw that the kitten was currently curled on what had been Tony’s pillow.

Tony stretched, his body elongating and his muscles clearly defined under the sheets. His eyes fluttered open and a broad grin spread across his face. Then he tilted his head to look where Gibbs was looking and reddened slightly. "The little bas…um rat…kept pawing and nibbling at me."

"Oh," said Gibbs skeptically.

Tony turned to his side, using his fist to prop his head up. "Yeah. Since I’d really rather it was you nibbling and pawing me…"

Gibbs stared at Tony. Had he heard him right? Just to be on the safe side Gibbs pinched himself. "Ouch!"

Tony looked at Gibbs, his eyes filled with concern. "What ‘cha doing, Boss?"

"Pinching myself. I must still be dreaming."

Tony rose up and pushed Gibbs back down on the bed and Gibbs let him. "You know that first night in New Orleans, I had this really strange wet dream," Tony purred.

Gibbs licked his lips, nervously. The rules of the game had changed, the table had been turned and Gibbs was now the one being pursued. A knock sounded at the door as Tony leaned over him, his tongue lapping Gibbs lips. Lapping? Gibbs eyes opened. A little blue-eyed kitten sat upon his chest licking his face. Gibbs growled.

In the other bed Tony yawned, his hair tousled. "Wha’s the matter, boss?"

Gibbs got out of bed, tossing the small kitten to Tony. Throwing open the door he snapped, "What!"

Ducky took a step backwards. "Jethro? Your friend Mark is downstairs waiting for you."

Gibbs began pulling on his pants and a shirt and stomped down the stairs muttering, ‘shit, shit, shit’ under his breath as he went.

"What was that all about?" Ducky mused out loud as he watched a bad tempered Gibbs leave the room.

"You got me," Tony answered, dropping the kitten to the floor a look of disgust clearly written across his face.

***

During the next week life settled into a routine. Ducky and Marie, along with Tony, spent their days going from shelter to shelter helping where they could. Tony proved most useful as he dealt with the young people displaced by Katrina, defusing hot tempers brought on by frustration.

Wanting to help out as much as possible the three would work long hours eventually returning to Marie’s home late in the day. Tony, not wanting to be in the way during the evenings, would find some excuse to make himself scarce. While he was recuperating physically, during the evenings Tony seemed oddly withdrawn and Ducky was at his wit’s end as to what to do about it when Marie suggested that perhaps another young person around might help.

Forced to agree, Ducky got in touch with McGee, who in the meantime, had been keeping very busy. In his free time, what little he had, he spent in setting up a data base to help pet owners locate their pets, at the insistence of his new friends, Tracy and Heather. The side benefits more than made up for it.

McGee, naturally, was concerned when he learned of Tony’s relapse. He hadn’t given much thought to his team-mates, for which he berated himself. He felt a tiny twinge of guilt but Ducky’s assurance that Tony was doing well made it easier for him to refuse the offer to move from where he was into Marie’s house. Unlike Tony, Heather and Tracy thought he could do no wrong, which did wonderful things for his ego.

McGee did compromise with accepting an invitation to come for supper. He thought briefly of asking if Heather and Tracy could come also, but did not wish to impose. Deep down McGee didn't want Tony to meet the two girls. Right now he had them all to himself.


Gibbs left early each morning to help rescue evacuees from New Orleans, usually coming home late every evening. He did his best, but without Tony there as a buffer his interaction with some of the more reluctant evacuee’s, he found his frustration levels getting higher and higher. That and the fact that Tony was usually asleep when he returned in the evenings made him grumpier then normal. The cat was getting more chances to get up close and personal with Tony then Gibbs was.

Those were his thoughts when Gibbs found himself, dirty and limping with an overprotective Mark supporting him, at the shelter much earlier then normal. He was halfway through the crowd when he spotted Tony standing on the far side of the room talking with a couple of young girls, flirting.

Moving away from Mark’s support, Gibbs called. "DiNozzo. If you’re not too busy."

Somehow over the noise Tony heard him and looked his way. He turned back to the girls and said something to them before giving them a killer smile and heading toward Gibbs.

"Hey, boss. A bit early aren’t you?" Tony’s eyes took in Gibbs disheveled condition.

Mark was standing next to Gibbs glaring and before Gibbs could say anything he explained, "Gunny here tried to pull a woman into the boat by himself. A very large woman." As Gibbs glared back irritably, he continued. "You’re damn lucky you didn’t throw your back out!"

DiNozzo tilted his head and raised an enquiring eyebrow. He focused his attention totally on Gibbs. Gibbs shrugged and though he tried not to show it, his aching back muscles sent a sharp pain down his spine. Tony frowned as he noticed. "Should I call Ducky?"

"It’s no big deal," Gibbs growled, his ire directed at Mark.

"No big deal? My gawd, she had to weigh almost three hundred pounds." Mark exploded remembering how it had eventually taken both men to pull the extremely large woman into the boat without capsizing it.

Tony appeared to mull the information over, he didn't seem to find it amusing. Tony’s jaw tightened and he nodded to Mark. "Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him," he informed him.

Tony took charge and over Gibbs protestations, unceremoniously hustled him away leaving Mark to inform Ducky of the situation.

Before Gibbs knew it, Tony was leading the way into Marie’s house as if he owned the place. The kitten bounded in from the kitchen and slid across the floor before pouncing on Tony’s shoe, tackling his shoelaces. Tony, momentarily distracted, smiled with amusement and began moving his foot from side to side, letting the kitten have her fun.

"See you’re doing better," Gibbs remarked as he observed the interaction between the two.

Tony shrugged, "Almost back to new." He paused and took a good look at Gibbs who had never looked worse nor better. Gibbs might be trying to hide it, but Tony could tell he was worn out. "Fun times over, munckin," Tony said to the kitten as he nudged her to gently one side. "Come on, old man. Let’s get you upstairs and into a tub."

"Who you calling old?" Gibbs groused. He tried to put as much gruffness as he could into it, but couldn't. He started to smack Tony upside the head but his shoulder muscles protested. Instead he followed Tony up the stairs albeit slower than usual. By the time he got to the top, Tony was already running water in the tub. Maybe Tony was right, maybe he was getting old, Gibbs thought. He used to could do things like this for days and never tire. He sank wearily on top of the bed and shut his eyes.

"Need help undressing, Boss?" Tony was standing over him, a cocky grin lighting his face.

Hell, yes, he wanted to shout. Instead Gibbs said, "Nope." pushed himself off the bed and headed for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Stream was rising from the water. He shucked off his clothing and sank into the hot, mildly scented water. Lavender and chamomile, he thought. He lay there enjoying the feel of the heated water on his aching body, eventually drifting off. He didn't know how long he lay there until a knock at the door brought him back, long enough that the water had cooled.

"Need some help, boss?" Tony called through the door.

"Nope," Gibbs called back reaching for the soap and started scrubbing away. He got out of the tub, no easy task and dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist.

Tony was standing besides the dressing going through an assortment of what appeared to be a variety of oils. Without looking at Gibbs, he said, "I picked up a new skill. Marie’s quite good at giving massages. She’s been teaching me."

"Been practicing on Ducky?" Gibbs quipped as he lay face down upon the bed, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them.

"Har, har, boss," Tony said. He started at Gibbs feet, expertly massaging his soles and rotating the ankles moving upward to the calf and upper thighs, stopping just underneath the edge of the towel.

"You don’t need to do this you know?" Gibbs muttered into his fists. He thought about Tony flirting with the young girls at the shelter. "I would have thought you’d have other plans."

Tony didn't respond; he just draped a towel over one shoulder, slipped off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, straddling Gibbs thighs. Opening one of the bottles he poured the oil and rubbed his hands together before applying them to Gibbs back.

The minute Tony’s strong hands started working his shoulder muscles; Gibbs knew that Tony had learned his lessons well. He let out a sigh of contentment as Tony massaged his aches and pains away.

Tony kneaded and pummeled his muscles and the strains of the past week fell away. Gibbs felt his body relaxing and he never wanted it to end. Therapeutic massages at N.C.S.I. had never been like this. Tony’s fingers worked their magic down his back stopping at his lower back, giving it special attention.

"Ahhhhh," Gibbs sighed.

"Like it, Boss?"

"What do you think?" Gibbs countered.

Tony laughed and backed off, rising from his position as he slapped at Gibbs’ butt.
"Turn over."

Gibbs raised his upper body, twisting just enough so he could see Tony. "Why?"

"You’re only half done," Tony wasn’t looking at him, he was wiping his hands and reaching for more oil.

Gibbs sighed. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Tony was thinking what Gibbs wanted him to be thinking. Reluctantly he turned over, arranging his hands behind his neck displaying his pecks to their best advantage, all the while careful to keep the towel in place, covering him. He smirked inwardly as he noticed the approving gleam in Tony’s eyes.

Gibbs maintained eye contact with Tony as he retook his position atop Gibbs thighs. Tony flexed his fingers and attacked Gibbs upper body. The touches were firm and impersonal. Gibbs let out a gasp when those touches suddenly changed. "Did Marie teach you that too?"

"Nope." A lascivious light showed in Tony’s eyes and spread to his lips even as his thumbs brushed against nipples that hardened to his touch. A jolt went down to Gibbs’ lower extremity, thickening and rising beneath the flimsy towel. Tony took notice and whipped away the towel. Lowering his eyes, Tony licked his lips and breathed one word. "Sweet."

Gibbs held his breath as Tony lowered his head and his tongue lightly lapped across the top of his cock head. He stopped breathing completely when Tony raised his head, opened his mouth and completely engulfed Gibbs throbbing staff to the root. "Fuck, Tony. You’ve done this before."

Slowly, using his tongue to increase Gibbs pleasure, Tony withdrew his mouth. "What was your first clue, Boss?"

His first clue? Gibbs thought it had to be when Tony deep throated him so expertly. Gibbs gaydar had never let him down so badly. He, of course, had known that McGee swung both ways, but he’d always assumed Tony was straight. Even now, he wasn’t sure if he could believe his senses. Gibbs waited for Tony’s mouth to get back to work. When that didn’t happen right away he tilted his head to one side and said the magic word that normally got him whatever he wanted. "Please."

Tony stared at him speculatively; he withdrew further more or less sitting back on his heels. He shook his head and laughed. "Uh ah, Boss, that’s not gonna work."

Gibbs gritted his teeth. "What is it you want?"

"What makes you think I want anything? Maybe I’m just looking for a good time."

Gibbs shrugged, "If that’s all you want…I can give it to you. Anything more…" Gibbs shook his head. Up until now he’d more or less kept himself on the ‘straight’ and narrow. His three marriages a testimony to the fact that he had at least tried to stay that way.

"Understood," Tony replied his eyes saddened a little. He looked thoughtful. "There is one thing." He leaned forward.

Gibbs moved one hand from behind his head, placing it against Tony’s chest stopping him. "You are *not* getting all huggy on me," he said firmly.

Tony laughed, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Close your eyes. Go on, close ‘em."

Gibbs did as he was told and could feel Tony lean over him. Soft lips barely touched his, light and gentle, almost tender. Not at all what he expected. Tony’s tongue lightly traced his, teasingly. Tony kissed him once again, more firmly, and then the lips were withdrawn.

"See. You can’t really tell with your eyes close. Can you?" Tony whispered in his ear. Tony did it again. "Nice, huh?"

Gibbs had to admit it was. It was one of the things he liked about sex with a woman. In fact if he could have this and the other… his head rose to follow Tony’s lips, his eyes still closed.

Tony laughed wickedly, slid down and once again engulfed Gibbs erection, giving it all the attention it needed.

"Oh, god," Gibbs moaned, his toes curling. Neither man noticing the bedroom door as it opened and quietly closed.

***

The sound of his cell phone ringing woke Gibbs the next morning. His first thought was that the mattress he’d slept on was decidedly lumpy. As he reached for his cell he realized he was stretched out upon the back of one Tony DiNozzo and last nights events replayed fuzzily in fast motion in his mind. He rolled off Tony and sat up, activating the phone.

"Gibbs."

As he listened Gibbs’ eyes wandered to the sleeping man next to him. Tony looked totally relaxed and had a pleased smile on his face. Knowing that he was the cause of that smile brought a smug smile briefly to Gibbs’ face, which faded as he listened to the voice on the line.

"Yes, sir. We’ll leave as soon as we can get transportation back."

‘Shit’ was his first thought as he flipped the phone shut. There was still so much to do here, but the team had been ordered back to Norfolk. That he needed coffee was his second thought as he rubbed his eyes, changing that to a bath as the distinctive odor of sex penetrated his senses. Careful not to wake Tony, Gibbs got up and headed for the bath. Informing the rest of the team could wait.

As Gibbs scrubbed away the evidence of last nights activities, he did his best to keep his mind on what needed to be done and not the exquisite pleasure that Tony had so expertly managed to elicit from him. He’d been a selfish bastard, letting Tony do all the work. Well not all the work, he smirked. He was curious to know where Tony had gained his knowledge in pleasing a man, but he wasn’t about to ask. Now if he only knew where to go from here, he thought as he reached for a towel that wasn’t there.

A brief knock was the only warning as Tony entered carrying a load of clean towels. "Thought you might need these," Tony said, handing one over and lowering the lid on the toilet to sit down. "I managed to get us seats on a flight leaving at noon, packed our stuff and contacted McGee. Thought you might want to give Ducky the news yourself." Nothing in his voice or expression gave any indication as to what had transpired between the two men last night.

Gibbs grunted his acknowledgment as he dried himself off. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Tony always seemed to have the information needed, even when he seemed to be out of it. He didn't have time nor the inclination to think about the future and what it might hold. Right now what Gibbs needed most was a cup of coffee. Gibbs wrapped the towel around himself, leaving to get dress and go downstairs and inform Ducky of their change in plans.


***

At the airport Gibbs had managed to snag a cup of coffee and was watching with interest as McGee received a great deal of amorous attention from two very pretty young ladies, who first one then the other, were kissing him over and over and extremely passionately at that. That brought to mind memories of the night before. He never would have thought kissing a guy could be so…enjoyable.

"Our little boy is all grown up," Tony murmured into Gibbs ear in passing on his way to interrupt McGee’s fun.

"So, Jethro. What are your plans for young Anthony when we get back?"

Gibbs froze. Surely Ducky had no idea … he couldn't possibly know, could he? Ducky was looking at him expectantly, patiently awaiting an answer.

Taking a sip from his cup, giving him time to think, Gibbs decided to err on the side of caution. The house was huge and they hadn’t been particularly noisy, that he could remember. "Don’t know what you’re referring to, Ducky."

Ducky’s glasses slid down his nose as he looked over them. "Really, Jethro. Marie thought you might need fresh towels last night."

Gibbs almost dropped his cup full of coffee in shock. ‘Damn’ he wasn’t ready to confront the issue right now. It had been a pleasant diversion, but that’s all it could be. The repercussions were too great.

Ducky must have read something in Gibbs face. He shook his head. "I’m disappointed in you, Jethro. You’re going to let something good in your life get away from you just for the sake of propriety?" Gibbs looked away as Ducky continued. "I remember a time in my youth. The one regret in my life was not following my inclinations then. Don’t let that happen to you," he strongly advised as he hefted his bag and walked toward the ramp leading to the plane.

Gibbs stared after Ducky, dumbstruck. He shifted he gaze to Tony, who happened to be looking in his direction just then. McGee was saying one last good-bye before following Ducky. Gibbs jerked his head, turning away and waited as Tony sauntered over to him.

"Yeah, Boss?"

Gibbs looked out the window as he contemplated what he wanted to say. He thought about what they had done. About how he had enjoyed it. He thought about Tony and how this would affect him. Was this something Tony wanted? It sure seemed that way last night. He came to a decision. "Tony. I’ve been thinking." Tony’s reflection in the window was leery. "I have some… wood you might be interested in."

Tony’s expression brightened noticeably. A broad smile spread across his face and his eyebrows wiggled up and down suggestively. "I’d have to say, you’re probably right."

Gibbs smile reflected his satisfaction as he headed toward the ramp with Tony right behind him.