Chapter Three: Maybe Baby
"Dammit!"
Poking his head out of the bathroom at the sound of his lover's curse, McGee cocked an eyebrow as he watched Tony rummaging through the closet.
"Tony? Everything okay?"
"No Tim! Everything is NOT okay! Where the hell are all of my shirts? This can't be all of them! I had more here!"
McGee walked out of the bathroom, confusion written all over his face as he joined Tony at the closet. "What's wrong with the striped one there?"
Snatching the shirt from the hanger, Tony checked the tag. "This will just have to work," he muttered to himself as he turned and headed for the bathroom.
Shaking his head in amusement, McGee pulled out a comfortable shirt for himself. Pausing at the doorway, he watched, unnoticed as Tony struggled with the buttons on his shirt.
Tony could feel McGee's eyes on him as his fingers fumbled with the buttons. Scowling up at him, he barely resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out. "What?" he asked sharply.
"N-nothing," McGee responded quickly.
"See! This is why I don't do relationships! I get comfortable, then I get lazy! Then I eat and gain weight and none of my clothes will fit! This is your fault, McIWantARelationship!"
"Tony, it's really not--"
"College, McGee! I've worn the same size since college! And do you know why?! Because I don't do relationships!"
"Tony--"
"Ugh. I can't even talk to you right now! Give me a sweatshirt. The black hoodie."
"It's supposed to be close to eighty today, T. It's too hot for a sweatshirt."
Tony's scowl turned to a glare, silently daring the younger man to refuse. "Sweatshirt. Now."
Frowning at Tony's sharp tone and harsh words, McGee left the bathroom without another word.
Watching the younger man go, Tony sighed loudly. He followed after him, clamping a hand down on McGee's shoulder.
"McGee--"
McGee shrugged his hand off as he reached into the closet, pulling the black hoodie from its hanger. He shoved the shirt into Tony's hands without a word before he slipped passed him. He had barely made it to the door when Tony grabbed his hand.
"Tim."
"What?" McGee asked quietly, turning to frown at Tony.
"I'm sorry."
"If you're that unhappy or whatever then maybe--"
Leaning forward, Tony pressed his lips to McGee's silencing him.
The younger man stood still for a moment before he softened, wrapping his arms around his lover, deepening the kiss.
He was left slightly breathless as Tony pulled away.
"I'm sorry," Tony repeated. "I'm just... Frustrated and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"It's not a big deal, T. People gain weight all the time. And honestly, I didn't even notice until you made such a big deal about it."
"How the hell could you not notice?" Tony asked miserably as he looked down at the shirt straining against his rounder middle.
Pressing his lips to Tony's again, McGee kissed him softly before pulling away again. "I'm too busy looking at other parts of your body when we're together," he said, grinning mischievously.
Tony rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the broad grin that formed. "Proof right there that you've been around me too long. Smooth McGee. Real smooth."
Laughing quietly to himself, McGee pulled away, wrapping an arm around Tony's waist.
"Come on. We don't want to be late."
"Fine, fine. But we're sparring today after work. I've got to get back in the gym and get rid of this gut."
"Deal," McGee said with a nod as he led Tony out of the bedroom.
"Think we've got time to stop for a breakfast burrito before we head in?"
Snorting quietly, McGee cocked an eyebrow at him.
"What? I said I was going to start all that crap after work. Now let's go. I'm starving."
OoOoOoO
"Dammit!" Tony cursed angrily as he threw the car into park, having already spotted the sedan and Ziva's Mini Cooper. "I told you we should have taken the short cut!"
"Give it a rest, T. Seriously."
Scowling angrily in his partner's direction, Tony reached over the back seat and snatched the hoodie up before climbing out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
Rolling his eyes, McGee silently prayed for the strength to continue biting his tongue before he climbed out of the car as well.
Tony was still grumbling as he pulled the hoodie over his head. Though McGee could not make out everything he said, he snorted when he made out the word "McSlowPoke" as he drew closer.
"Really Tony? Really? Hm. That's funny because who was it that Ziva asked to show her the fastest way to get around DC? Oh wait a minute! That's right! It was ME!"
"Only because she didn't know any better," Tony snapped. "Not only is it your fault that we're late, we didn't even have time to stop for breakfast!"
"Oh Jesus Christ. Yes, because you're really going to waste away!" McGee sneered, poking Tony in the stomach. "I think you can stand to skip a burrito or two!"
McGee regretted his words immediately as Tony's face fell momentarily, a look of hurt flashing across his features. It wasn't long, however, before the older man had set his jaw, his green eyes narrowing before he turned and stalked off, his feet crunching loudly on the gravel.
"Tony!" McGee called after him, his shoulders slumping in defeat when his partner kept walking, never even glancing back in his direction.
He cursed himself quietly for being so insensitive before he jogged after his lover. Though Tony infuriated him at times, he knew that deep down the older man was occasionally more insecure than a high school girl. Making fun of him about something that he was clearly unhappy about had been a bad idea.
"Tony," he tried again after catching up with him.
"Not now," Tony growled in response as they approached Gibbs and Ziva.
"Glad you boys could join us," Gibbs called dryly as his two agents approached. "Took you look enough."
"Yeah well maybe if you had called before we were already ten miles in the opposite direction then we would have made it in time," Tony snapped in response, ignoring McGee's incredulous stare and Ziva's amused snort.
The head slap he received was not unexpected.
"Wanna try that again, DiNozzo?"
"Sorry. Traffic was a bitch, boss."
"Better. Line up. You and McGee take the two on the end."
"Got it," Tony responded sullenly before he trudged off to the end of the line, McGee following behind him.
---
Having fired his weapon until there were no bullets left, Tony cleared the chamber before leaning against the partition, waiting for the other's to finish. Dropping his head back against the divider, he closed his eyes, bringing his free hand up to wipe at the sweat beads that had formed on his face.
"You okay, T?" McGee asked as he lowered his weapon, noticing the way his lover's hand trembled slightly. Reaching out, he rested a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder, frowning when the older man jerked away.
"Don't," Tony warned, swallowing hard in an effort to fight off the nausea that had come out of nowhere. He reached up, wiping his face again.
"McGee! DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked as he made his way down the line. "Still got another half an hour left. There a reason the two of you stopped shooting?"
"No reason boss," Tony responded miserably.
Narrowing his eyes at his Senior Field Agent, Gibbs did a quick assement before taking the weapon from Tony's hand. "Take ten, DiNozzo. Get out of the sun. Get some water and lose the damn sweatshirt."
"I'm fine boss," Tony insisted, though he didn't protest when Gibbs accepted the bottle of water from Ziva and shoved it into his hands.
"Small sips," Ziva reminded him, as though he didn't know.
"McGee. Get him out of the sun. And I meant it about the sweatshirt DiNozzo. Lose it."
"But boss--" His words died as Gibbs fixed him with a stare.
"Come on T," McGee said, his hand resting on the older man's shoulder. Jerking away from his touch again, Tony scowled at his lover before shoving the water bottle into his hands.
Grumbling angrily to himself, Tony pulled the hoodie over his head, scowling at Ziva's quiet snicker.
"What?" He snapped.
"Perhaps a salad would be a good choice for lunch today, yes?" She asked, eyeing his too tight shirt.
"Ziva," McGee warned, catching the Israeli's eye. "Stop."
"What?! I am just saying that it appears as though all the pizza and Chinese has finally caught up with him!"
"Ziva, knock it off," Gibbs ordered. "DiNozzo. Go."
Gibbs watched as his two agents trudged off, Tony's shoulders slumped unhappily. Turning back to Ziva, Gibbs fixed her with a glare before pulling his phone from his pocket.
"Do another target then pack it up."
"We still have twenty minutes left, yes?"
"Nope. Your annual physicals just got moved up to today."
Dialing the number to autopsy, Gibbs stepped away from the Israeli as she took her place.
"Duck," Gibbs greeted gruffly when the ME answered. "Clear your afternoon."
"Everything okay, Jethro?" Ducky asked, the concern evident in his voice.
"Don't know yet. But you're gonna find out. Move up my team's physicals to today. I'll sign off on it when I get in."
"Very well. Send them down when you return."
"I want DiNozzo done first."
Snapping the phone closed without waiting for a response, Gibbs waited patiently until Ziva's clip was empty.
"Pack it up, David," he called. "DiNozzo! You're with me!"
Groaning quietly, Tony pushed himself to his feet. "Great," he muttered to himself. "As if today isn't bad enough already."
"What was that, DiNozzo?"
"On your six, boss!"
Tony followed Gibbs grudgingly to the sedan, tossing his backpack and hoodie into the back seat before sliding into the front. The older agent glanced at him curiously as he took the seat behind the wheel, shaking his head slightly before starting the car and driving away.
"You got something to tell me?" Gibbs questioned, looking again at his senior agent as he leaned against the window.
"Not a thing, Boss." He mumbled, taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep the nausea at bay.
"DiNozzo--"
"--Stop the car," Tony ordered, his voice strained.
Not needing to be told twice, Gibbs slammed on the brakes, swerving to the shoulder. The car had barely come to a stop before Tony shoved the door open, practically falling out onto the grass.
Wrinkling the his nose at the sound of the younger man retching, Gibbs climbed from the car.
Tony was on his hands and his knees, his entire body trembling as he heaved. Pulling open the back door, Gibbs grabbed a bottle of water and waited patiently.
"All done?" Gibbs asked once his agent had gone still.
"Hope so," Tony responded weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He accepted the bottle of water from his boss, rinsing his mouth out before pushing himself shakily to his feet.
He didn't even have the energy to protest when Gibbs gripped his arm to steady him.
"'M fine boss," Tony insisted, shrugging off Gibbs' hand as the older man helped him into the car.
"Yeah, I can see that Tony," the older man responded dryly as he eyed the Italian curiously.
Closing the passenger side door, Gibbs shook his head to clear himself of the ridiculous thought that had crossed his mind.
"No. No way," he muttered to himself, climbing into the driver's seat.
OoOoOoO
Tony walked into Autopsy gingerly, not wanting to jostle himself too much, his stomach still turning. "Hey Duck."
"Ah, Anthony! Good to see you, my dear boy!" The ME greeted kindly, a warm smile on his face. "You look a bit green. Not feeling quite up to par today?"
"Just a little nauseated," Tony admitted quietly. "But hey, that's the price you pay when you ride with Gibbs."
"Truer words have never been spoken. Well come on in. This shouldn't take too long." Pushing himself to his feet, the doctor grabbed Tony's medical chart from the desk before motioning to the scale. "Up here, please."
Dropping his backpack and hoodie to the floor beside one of the tables, Tony trudged over to the scale unhappily. He paused for a moment to kick his shoes off as he shoved his hands into his pockets to remove his phone, keys and loose change.
"What on Earth are you doing?" Ducky asked, unable to contain his quiet chuckle. "I may be old, but I am able to accurately correct the reading after taking clothing and such into consideration."
Tony didn't respond as he stepped on the scale, glaring moodily at the little numbers as Ducky scribbled the result on the chart.
"Very good," the ME commented as the disgruntled Italian stepped off the scale.
"Good?" Tony snorted.
"I'm glad to see that you've picked up a bit of weight. You were much too thin during last year's examination," Ducky chided gently as he motioned to one of the tables. "Other than occasional bouts of nausea brought on by Gibbs' horrid driving and tainted Chinese food, how have you been feeling? There are no medical issues I need to know about, are there?"
"I've been fine."
Ducky cocked an eyebrow at the younger man as he fastened the blood pressure cuff. "You should probably start choosing a new adjective when you're going to lie, Tony. I believe everyone in the building is aware that when you say you are fine, you are actually anything but."
Tony remained silent, his face set in a frown as the doctor went about the other routine tests that came along with the annual physical. Tony had never been a huge fan of physical day, but he had to admit that being bored to death with one of Ducky's never ending stories as he worked was better than enduring Ziva's incessant teasing. He scowled at the very thought of the dark haired Israeli snorting in amusement when he'd removed his hoodie.
"There now," Ducky said as he finished checking his patient's reflexes. "Everything looks good. All that's left is to draw a bit of blood and then you'll be on your way."
Tony shifted slightly on the hard autopsy table, his lower back aching from sitting hunched over for so long. He stretched slightly, rubbing his back to alleviate the pain before he rolled up his shirt sleeve.
Ducky didn't miss the way the young man winced as he inserted the needle, though he offered him a kind smile. "Almost done. Just a little bit longer... Ah, there we are. That wasn't so bad, now was it?"
He handed Tony the small vials of blood after properly labeling them, patting him on the shoulder gently. "To Abby please," he instructed.
"Thanks Duck," Tony responded, offering the doctor a half smile as he slid off the autopsy table, grabbing his bag and hoodie.
Grabbing McGee's medical chart from his cabinet drawer, Ducky watched as Tony exited autopsy with a shake of his head. He set Tony's file aside, not bothering to put it way just yet. At least not until Abby finished with the blood work.
----
Stepping off the elevator, Tony trudged into the lab slowly, vials in hand.
"Hiya Tonyboy," Abby greeted without looking up, her green eyes focused on the screen in front of her.
"How'd ya know it was me?"
"Would you believe me if I told you that I smelled you coming?"
"No and if I did, I might be a little offended," he responded, lifting his arm to sniff himself discreetly.
She giggled quietly as she turned to face him. "Ducky called and said you were on your way up. What have you got for me?"
"Blood."
"Nice. All the usual tests?"
"I guess. Futon?"
She eyed him for a second before nodding. "Timmy keep you up late last night?" She asked as her friend made his way into her office.
"Something like that," Tony responded as he collapsed on the thin mattress with a groan.
She watched as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position before she got to work.
Curling in on himself as much as his height would allow, Tony closed his eyes, praying that McGee and Ziva's physicals would last longer than his had.
He had just started to drift off when he felt a gentle hand rubbing his back, Abby's warm breath tickling his ear as she spoke quietly.
"You sure you're okay, T?" She asked. "You haven't been yourself lately. What's going on with you?"
Moving her hand from his back to his hair, she scratched his scalp lightly, grinning despite her concern when he stretched out, moving into her touch.
"There's the Tonyboy I know and love," she teased, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
He gave her a lazy smile as she ruffled his hair. "'M sorry. Don't mean to be so grouchy. Just tired."
"Then you should rest. I'll keep a look out for you."
"You're the best Abs."
"That's what they keep telling me," she responded with a grin as she kissed his cheek once more.
Settling down beside him, she ran her fingers through his hair, the motion soothing him.
With a content sigh, Tony closed his eyes, allowing the feeling of her fingers against his scalp to relax him.
It wasn't long before his soft snores filled the office. Abby barely stifled a giggle as she leaned back against the wall, getting comfortable beside him.
She had barely settled in when the computer dinged, the sound immediately setting her on edge.
"I got a ding?" She whispered, completely horrified at the thought. She pushed herself to her feet, trying her best to keep from jostling the thin mattress. Looking over her shoulder to make sure she had not disturbed her sleeping friend, she hurried out to the computer, her heart pounding in her chest.
She scanned the results quickly, her eyes widening. "This... Cannot be right," she said with a shake of her head. She punched a few buttons on the computer, biting down on her lip as she dialed down to autopsy.
"Duckman," she greeted, hesitating when the older doctor answered. "I need a fresh pair of eyes up here. Can you come take a look at Tony's results? I think I may be reading them long."
"Of course my dear. I'll be right up."
"Thanks... And Duck? Make sure you come alone."
Chapter End Notes:
A/N: Hi guys! Another chapter! Sorry it took me so long to get this one out, but like I've said before... reviews help me write faster *HINT HINT* :D Anyway, a huge thanks to the two of you who DID review! Much love to you! And as always, thanks to my bffl Kelley because without her, I still would have been stuck on a chapter title! You're the best chica! I apologize if this chapter is a little weird. It gave me such a hard time and I'm glad it's over! And as always... reviews are wonderful and they really DO help me write faster *HINT HINT HINT* ;)