Oh, yeah, there we go. Feeling better now. Feeling *much* better. Kind of light and dreamy and floaty. Floaty? Is that a real word? Hell, I don't really care if it is or not because that's *exactly* how I'm feeling at the moment. Floaty and mellow. Oh, yeah. Sort of like drifting or flying or like being high...which is precisely what I am right now. High. Extremely high. High as a kite. High as the Space Shuttle. Hell, high as Uranus. Heh...your anus...
Okay, I gotta stop making stupid analogies...if I can. I'm not usually so stupid. I know why I'm feeling this way. It's because of Fornell and his fucking morphine. Shit. I hate it and crave it all at the same time and all I can think of is how well and royally screwed I am right now. And floaty...
Which I guess is good because, even with the drug, I'm not foolish enough to think my traitorous body is actually getting any better. Hell, no. I know the morphine is doing nothing more than disguising the problem...whatever it may be...and making me do nothing but lay here under this honking big tree and bask in the blessed relief. Christ, it just feels *so* good not to have those claws digging into my intestines and twisting them into square knots or half hitches or some other decorative tangle. Hmm...wonder how many plant hangers could be macramed out of one man's intestines? A bunch, I bet.
Yeah, the morphine is really doing its job and all I want to do is enjoy it. No pain. Well, none to speak of really. It's there, just muted and dull. Ghostly and diluted. Pale. Sure nothing like what it had been and that's a fact. Thank God for big favors. No, that's not quite right and I'm trying my best to figure out what it is. Oh, yeah, now I remember: thank *Fornell*. Yeah, that's right. The bastard...
Anyway, it feels so good just to lay here and let my mind wander without having to dwell on the pain anymore, especially with that nice, soft breeze blowing across my sweaty face and the dappled sunlight playing hide and seek through the leaves overhead. Peekaboo, I see you...not. Heh... Fuck, I'm so messed up. But it's really peaceful and would almost be perfect, if it wasn't for those stupid, squabbling voices. Voices? Where? Somewhere close by. Sounds like something I should take notice of. Something between Fornell and Ziva, I think...and a knife. Knife?
Shit, Ziva and a knife are a deadly mix. I hope Fornell knows that but, if he doesn't, he probably will real soon. Maybe that's what the problem is. I don't know. Fornell is a morphine-pushing bastard and Ziva is a...what? There's something about Ziva that's tapping like an ice-pick against my brain and it's really bothering me now. Something about her and her motorcycle. Oh, yeah, now I remember: Ari. Ari fucking Haswari. There's a connection between them, I just know it but what? I don't know. I'm too damn floaty. I think I had it a while ago but it's just not here now. I sure wish Gibbs was here...he'd know what to tell me...and I think he'd really know what to do about the situation. Yeah, he'd know...
Well, as much as I'd like to just lay here, I think I've got to see what happening. I push myself up as best as I can and blink in their general direction...or in the direction of the sound of their voices anyway. Huh, that's strange. They're just standing there, looking down at something...something on the ground...beside Ziva's feet. Wonder what it could be? Well, now that I'm feeling nice and floaty, I think I'll just take a closer look.
"Tony!"
Fornell is hissing at me before I can even roll over and get to my hands and knees. That's just so rude. He can't hiss at me like that. Fuck him. I manage to get into position and start to crawl their way.
"Stay back!"
I stop and blink up at him, hesitating, and wondering why they're both standing so still out here in the hot sun. Stupid idiots. And why doesn't he want me to come any closer? He's not the boss of me. My eyes aren't doing such a good job out here and don't seem to want to focus on anything for long. It's too bright and unfriendly. Squint city out here. Big time. Wish I had my sunglasses...or my cap...or both. Yeah, that'd be good.
"Why?" I manage to ask as I steady myself on my knees, feeling a slow, continual spin begin inside my head. Nothing major. No rollercoaster or whirligig...just a sluggish tilting that makes me want to close my eyes for a moment. Just a moment. So, I think I will...
"Tony!"
Fornell is snapping at me now, ragging on my last nerve, so I raise my head back up and look his way. I don't like the tone of his voice and want to tell him just to shut up. I sit back on my haunches, trying to control the spin in my head, and glare at him, squinting in the sunshine.
"What?" I try to bark at him in my best 'Gibbs' voice but I don't think it comes out that way. I think I sounded more like McGee just then. No bark...just byte. Heh...byte. I'm so fucking funny...
Fornell and Ziva are standing just like they were, facing each other, and Ziva is still staring down at the ground. What's she see? I'm closer to the ground than either one of them...hell, I'm *on* the ground...so I'm trying to see what the fascination is. All I need is to get a little bit closer.
"Tony!"
Fornell is almost yelling but not quite and his voice makes me stop. I'm confused, I admit it, but he doesn't have to treat me like this. He's been watching over me and seeing to my comfort and needs and I've been relying on him for just about everything since he showed up in...wherever the hell we were...and he holds me when I don't feel good and when the pain gets real bad, he knows and helps, even if I think I don't need it...
"Don't move!"
I'm really confused now...
"Okay." I grudgingly agree and just sit, head down and eyes looking at the dirt under my hands. The sunlight is really intense out here and I can feel it beating down on the back of my neck, heating the skin and making it feel hot and swollen, and all I really want to do is go back into the shade. But Fornell said to not move. I sigh and chance a glance their way and immediately see reflected light glinting brightly off something in Ziva's right hand. Oh, yeah...her knife. Knife! "Tobias!"
Ziva has her knife and I have to get to Fornell and why isn't he moving? Why are neither of them moving? This is crazy!
"Tobias!" I yell again because, obviously, he must not have heard me the firstb time and I start to crawl toward them, ignoring his previous instructions, and now they're both quickly moving and I can see Ziva's hand flash out and Fornell is jerking back and grunting and...and...oh, shit...my head is spinning way too fast now and the sun must have gone behind a cloud because, all of a sudden, it's not so bright out here anymore. It's gray and dim and it's a lot like looking through a long, dark tunnel. Well, shit...I think I need to lay down...right now...in the dirt...immediately...if not sooner...
When I finally manage to reopen my eyes, I'm flat on my back and in the shade under the big, honking tree again. I don't know how much time has passed but I'm glad the spinning has stopped and I'm happy the leaves overhead are rustling in the breeze but I think there's someone close by and I need to see who it is. I turn my head slowly, to keep the spinning and whirling from restarting, and blink hard to clear the haze.
It's Ziva. Fuck.
I push up as quickly as I can, which probably isn't really all that fast, forgetting about the dreaded spinning and whirling, and try to back away from her, scuttling like a bug in the dirt. She gives me the strangest look but, honestly, Ziva's looks can be pretty strange most of the time anyway, so I don't know what she's thinking or going to do. I know what *I'm* thinking and I just want to put some distance between us...and find Fornell.
Fornell!
Tobias! I remember what was happening right before my little nose- dive into the dirt and push to my knees, looking frantically around. I can't see him...or his body...anywhere. Where is he? What has she done with him?
"Tony."
Ziva is suddenly at my side, perfectly balanced in an easy squat, brown eyes looking at me like I've lost my mind. She's raising a hand and reaching out to me...
...and I jerk away, trying to get to my feet but only managing to stumble and land hard, back on my aching knees again. I don't want her to touch me. I don't want her offering some false assistance. I have to get away from her before she kills me, too. I have to...
"Tony!"
It's Fornell! He's suddenly here, by my side, pushing between Ziva and me and, God, he looks so good and so alive. He reaches out to steady me just as I reach out to touch him, to make sure he's no illusion, and we sort of just fall into each other's arms. Christ, he's real and safe and alive and I don't think I want to let go. I push my face into the space under his chin and just breathe in the scent of him, smelling sweat and sunshine and safety.
"It's okay," Fornell is whispering repeatedly against my head, lips moving in my hair, and I just tighten my grip on him more. I have to tell him about Ziva.
"Tobias..." I start but he cuts me off by trying to ease me back. I don't want that, not right now. I want to hold on for just a little while longer and tell him what I suspect about Ziva's connection to Ari Haswari. He needs to know. He's like Gibbs...he'll know what to do. I think. I struggle to maintain my hold, grasping at his shirt but he's being persistent...very persistent.
"Tony," he's almost saying my name like he's talking to some little kid now and I don't want that from him. He's never treated me that way and I sure as hell don't want him to start doing it now.
"I have to tell you something," I grab his face and hold it between both of my hands and force his eyes to meet mine. "Please! You have to listen to me!"
Fornell's eyes connect and never leave mine and I can clearly see he's silently debating something. I don't know why he just won't take the time to listen to me. I'd listen to him, if our roles were reversed.
"We don't have time for this now," Ziva hisses at us and turns away, stalking toward the waiting motorcycles and reaching for her jacket and her helmet. I drop my gaze from Fornell's face and lay the side of my head back against his chest, watching her movements and feeling the wash of relief with each step she takes. The more distance, the better...
Fornell hugs me close again and I close my eyes at the level of security I feel. This is nice but I have to get him to listen. I take a deep breath and try once more.
"Tobias," I raise my face and peer into his warm eyes, "Ziva is dangerous. She..."
"Of course she's dangerous," he's smiling indulgently. "She just killed a rattlesnake with her knife."
What? A rattlesnake? No, that's not what I was going to say.
"No, listen..." I try again but have to close my eyes as he suddenly combs his fingers gently through my hair. Oh, yeah...that feels so good and I think I'd like him to do it again but I also need to tell him about...
"We have to get moving," he interrupts my thoughts and I frown.
"But..."
He's grabbing my upper arms and pulling me steadily to my feet and I have to return my head to his chest for a moment, just until the slight spinning ends. I can feel his hand making small, soothing circles low on my back, near the base of my spine, and I just can't help moaning softly and leaning into his strength...for only a moment or two longer.
But he won't let me rest. He's tugging me into motion again, toward his Harley, carefully placing the helmet on my head and looking at me so intently before flipping the visor down, I actually think he's going to tell me something vitally important. Maybe he already knows about Ziva and maybe he doesn't need to hear my allegations but I don't think that's it. His eyes look...strange...intense...hot. Hot? I blink hard as the final word registers in my brain and I'm suddenly aware...very aware...of how close we're standing and how carefully he's touching me and how much I like it. I mean, *really* like it.
Shit, this is not good.
I know I'm relying on him to help me with the pain and I know the comfort I get from him is measured along with the drug he administers but I know exactly who *really* has control of my heart and that person isn't here right now. But I can't deny there's something calling out to me, pulling at me, and, God, I don't know if I've got the strength or the will to resist. Plus, I don't believe I'm actually using much of my brain at the moment. I like the comfort and I like his casual touches and I'm so fucking confused right now, I don't know much of anything anymore.
"Get on the motorcycle," Fornell is directing me, helping me again, guiding my leg to aid in swinging it up and over the seat.
I shift back automatically to give him room and, once he's seated before me, I slide forward and snug up tight to his solid body, wrapping my arms around his mid-section, and holding securely. It feels good. *He* feels good and, when he suddenly grips one of my hands and slowly slides it down to rest against the erection housed tight behind the denim of his jeans, I feel strangely attracted and repulsed at the same time. I try, half-heartedly, to pull away but he's got a death-grip on my fingers and he keeps them trapped there, rubbing with enough pressure I can feel the hard length jump under the fabric. Oh, yeah, it feels so good...
I glance up and see Ziva has her back to us and a sharp thrill shoots through my body. I'm getting hard now, too, and my only thought is not, 'What in the hell am I doing?' That would be what any sane and logical-thinking person would consider. Obviously, that's not me at the moment...or Fornell. No, my first thought is, 'How far can I go without getting caught?'
I press my groin tight to his ass, hoping he'll stop this now before it really gets out of hand but I hear a low groan and have to wonder if it came from Tobias or me. Maybe it was both. It doesn't matter. This is so wrong and so exciting and so unbelievably hot, I don't think it would take much to make me come. Hell, just *thinking* about coming makes me want to come.
Holy shit. There's no denying it now, no matter how much I want to pretend otherwise: I am well and truly screwed.
___________________________________
Three days later, Jethro Gibbs was, once again, sitting across from Walter Pennington in the SecNav's large office, eyeing the man with his cool, blue gaze and watching silently as the dark-haired man concluded his telephone conversation with the Vice President of the United States. He was trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible but it almost seemed irrelevant. That he was even allowed in the same room while Pennington was on the line with the VP spoke volumes.
He shifted slightly to relieve the tension in his back and cast his eyes quickly toward the seat next to his, mildly reassured and slightly amused to see Ducky's avid expression as the medical examiner openly listened to Pennington's one-sided exchange. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact he was eavesdropping and Gibbs had to force back his smile. The older man seemed to be at ease no matter where he went or what the situation and just having him within arms-reach was more comforting than Gibbs could have ever imagined.
"Yes, sir. I'll keep your office apprised of the situation," Pennington spoke clearly, eyes fixed of a sheaf of paper resting on his desk, his big fingers toying absently with one bent edge. "Thank you for your time and assistance, sir."
As the SecNav completed the call and hung up the receiver, his gaze immediately rose and locked on Gibbs, brown eyes full of concern. He shook his head and took a moment to lean back in his seat before speaking to the two men again.
"This just seems to get stranger and stranger, Agent Gibbs. If you'd only confided in me when all this began, instead of traipsing across the country to Idaho like some vigilante, we may have been able to nip this in the bud and saved us all a world of problems."
"With all due respect, sir..." Gibbs began, only to be cut quickly off by the man at his side.
"With all due respect, Walter, there was nothing else Jethro could have done at the time and you're very aware of it. He did the only thing he could under the circumstances, followed correct proceedures, went to the next person in the chain of command, and look where it got him." Ducky glanced absently toward Gibbs and frowned. "Now what was it called again? Oh, yes...'protective custody'." He rolled his expressive eyes and refocused all his attention on the man behind the large desk. "Let's just cease this senseless waste of time and move on to more important matters. We have two members of Jethro's team and an FBI agent in a relatively secure location...as least, we hope they've arrived there...but, from what we've seen in the past, it may not remain secure for very long. I've lost a dear friend and a kind acquaintance and I don't imagine any of us wants to see any more innocent blood spilled. I know *I* don't, at any rate."
Pennington had shifted his gaze away from Gibbs as soon as Ducky had begun speaking and now kept his eyes on the diminutive older man, one eyebrow arching as his lips twitched seemingly of their own accord. "Well, it was rather fortuitous Agent Gibbs was under my 'protection' at the time, Doctor Mallard. If he hadn't been, I believe we would now be questioning him about Director Shepard's disappearance."
"Still no news about her?" Gibbs asked quietly and without emotion.
Pennington let his assessing gaze drift back. "None. Phone records show she placed a call to her hair stylist, from her office, but there's no indication of her ever arriving there, if she indeed made an appointment. Unfortunately, the man who owns and runs the salon can't be located either. Could be nothing but a coincidence..."
"But that's not likely at this point," Gibbs interjected when the SecNav paused.
"No," Pennington agreed and sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk, "not with the direction of the investigation. Look, there was a new development last night and I want you both to be aware of it, especially since it seems to have move than a passing correlation to what's going on." He stopped again before continuing. "What can you tell me about Agent DiNozzo's father?"
Emotions flooded Gibbs' usually-stoic face: anger, disbelief, contempt. He took a deep breath, forcibly pushing those feelings away and leaned forward, arms braced on his knees and fists clenched tight in the open space between them. He looked across the small expanse dividing himself from the SecNav, slowly releasing the captured air, and was only dimly aware of Ducky's gentle hand coming to rest on his closest shoulder, stopping him from answering.
"Maybe you should just tell us what *you* know," the medical examiner requested softly.
Pennington was nodding his understanding. "I see. No love lost between them then, I take it? Well, maybe that explains a lot."
"What do you mean?" Gibbs asked, not even bothering with formalities now.
The SecNav's eyes turned sharp. "There's no need for me to keep anything from either of you at this point. My Under Secretary has had a team working round the clock since you first brought your concerns to this office, Agent Gibbs," he saw the honest surprise reflected in the blue eyes. "Just because I gave the impression I was following Director Shepard's lead on this, doesn't mean I fully believed her. In my line of work, I've found it prudent to examine all possibilities. At any rate, some disturbing information was uncovered during the investigations. It seems Agent DiNozzo's father has a long and intimate business relationship with Wilson-Halley...and that Director Shepard has had contact with both of them within the past two months."
"Son of a bitch!" Gibbs swore hotly and felt Ducky's grip momentarily tighten. He shrugged the hand off and shifted back in the seat.
"And Emilio Martinez?" Ducky wasn't the least bit concerned with Gibbs' actions. "How does he fit into the picture? Is there a DiNozzo connection there, too?"
"At this time, I don't have any evidence showing Mr. DiNozzo had any contact with Martinez but Wilson-Halley certainly has and, although it was years ago, huge sums of money have somehow passed from hand to hand and ended up in accounts used by Martinez for research and travel into many countries."
"Including this one," Gibbs spat and then sighed, pulling himself up to his feet and walking the short distance to the bank of windows that filled one complete wall.
It was late again and he gazed out into the dark Washington night, watching traffic blend and flow in its own strangely hypnotic rhythm, headlights and taillights forming paths and trails against the otherwise blackness of the city streets. There were a few buildings illuminated, a scattering of flags spotlighted, but a majority of the city was getting ready for rest. Forcing his tired, burning eyes away from the scene below, Gibbs instead focused on Pennington's reflected image in the glass.
"I was suppose to hear from Agent Fornell two nights ago," he stated quietly, arms crossing over his chest and head bending at a slight angle. "I'm not even sure my people are still alive."
"They are."
The news brought Gibbs swiftly back to the area by the desk but he refused to be seated again. "How do you know?"
"It seems when Agent Fornell couldn't reach you, he contacted the only other person he knew that could be trusted to do the right thing: former NCIS Director Tom Morrow."
"Oh, this is wonderful news!" Ducky was smiling up into Gibbs' face, the blue eyes filled with relief. "Thomas is cetainly a man to be trusted."
"Well, I think the fact your former Director and the current Director of the FBI are close friends might have made a difference."
"Pardon me for saying so but it shouldn't have mattered one way or the other," Gibbs felt confident again, now that he knew his people were all right, and wanted to speak his peace. "Agents from several agencies were initially involved in what we all thought was going to be an arrest of a suspect carrying information vital to Homeland Security and then were instructed to forget about the whole incident immediately afterwards. How could we forget? How could anyone who was there that day forget about what happened to Agent DiNozzo? That, alone, should have sent warning signals to every Director involved...and they should have questioned it." He saw the frown appear on Pennington's face. "I know you probably know now who gave that order to the Directors and I know you probably can't devulge that information. It wouldn't do me any good to know anyway. But Jen Shepard is the one who came back to headquarters after that meeting on The Hill and informed us of Agent DiNozzo's death. I don't know if she knew the real truth then but I suspect she did. That has to be why she fought so hard to discredit all the information we found and probably why she refused to even bring our concerns to you."
The three men were silent for a span of a few moments and then Ducky spoke. He suddenly sounded very tired.
"Dare we even hazard a guess to what has happened to her?"
Both Gibbs and Pennington turned their eyes his way but only the SecNav responded. "I don't think guesses are going to do any good at this point, Doctor Mallard. If she's still in the country, she's either well away from the Washington area or is dead."
Gibbs nodded his agreement. "May I ask, just how well does she know Agent DiNozzo's father?"
"Social gatherings for the most part, a few fund-raisers, that type of thing...and most before she took her position at NCIS. It seems she knows the current Mrs. DiNozzo rather well...from her time spent overseas, in Paris."
Gibbs' head snapped up at that bit of information. "Paris?"
"Yes," Pennington eyed the ex-Marine carefully. "Why?"
"Sir, you know that Jen Shepard and I were partnered for awhile in Paris?"
"Yes, I was aware of that. What's your point?"
"Maybe this is someone I know, too. Maybe the current Mrs. DiNozzo is someone we both met in Paris."
"There's that possibility but I don't see how it matters much now."
"Well, Walter, what exactly does matter now?" Ducky asked succinctly, again cutting to the chase. "Just what do you expect Jethro and I to do?"
"I want you both to do something extremely difficult: I want you to step back..."
"With all due respect, sir, that's not going to happen," Gibbs gritted angrily.
"Yes, Agent Gibbs," Pennington's face settled back into the dark mask of authority, "it *is* going to happen...and I'll tell you why: this has become a matter for people higher on the chain than either of you, people with the power to get information faster and results quicker, people with connections in places outside the normal scope. You're both too close to this and that makes it too dangerous." He nailed Gibbs with a hard look. "Besides, as you said, you and Director Shepard have a history and, if she is indeed part of this whole thing, you don't need to be anywhere near her when the shit hits the fan. Am I making myself clear?"
Gibbs swallowed his ire and stood tall, fists clenched at his sides. "Yes, sir."
"And," Pennington was continuing as he moved around the side of his desk and stepped closer to Gibbs, "there's a military transport scheduled to leave for Carlsbad, New Mexico, at midnight. Red Bluff is just to the south, directly across the border in Texas. You and Doctor Mallard and the rest of your team are *encouraged* to hitch a ride out that way."
"We don't run away from any fight, sir, no matter how messy it may get."
"No one is asking you to run away, Agent Gibbs," Pennington huffed. "I assumed you would want to see to the continued safety of your missing team members...no better way than to have them all together in one place. Besides, I think you're familiar with the staff I'm sending out there. Lieutenant Commander Wainwright is going from Bethesda."
Ducky perked up at the mention of his colleague's name. "Roberta? Roberta Wainwright is going to Texas to see to Anthony's care?"
"She is. I've assigned her, since she has first-hand knowledge of the incident, and have selected a handful of topnotch people to assist. We'll do everything we can for him, though I'm not sure it will be enough." The SecNav paused and shook his head. "I have to be honest. This whole thing scares the living daylights out of me. That Martinez has actually found a way to regress a person's age is straight out of science-fiction."
"What scares me," piped in Ducky, eyes reflecting his sincerity, "is what our government was planning on doing with that knowledge."
Gibbs grunted his assent and then moved on. "Sir, the only flaw I can see in this whole plan is, with the number of people going to Red Bluff, it will be difficult to keep our presence hidden. Whoever is after Agent DiNozzo will undoubtedly see us coming. They'll be too many to hide."
"Let them see," the SecNav's eyes went cold, his tone hard and threatening. "I *want* them to see all of you...and the unit of Marines I'm sending along as 'company'."
Both Gibbs and Ducky were surprised but, once again, it was the older man who offered an observation, expressing his barely-suppressed glee. The medical examiner rose from his seat to join the others standing.
"Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!"
Pennington nodded and turned away, walking back to his desk and reaching for a slip of paper. "I have a car waiting to take you both home." His eyes rose. "It has a Marine escort, too."
"Sir..." Gibbs was on the verge of protesting again.
"Agent Gibbs, you do it my way or you can return to your 'protective custody' if you want. Your choice. But let's get one thing straight: there is no room for compromise. Until I feel it's safe, your agent remains in Texas. Now, either you can go there to be with him or you can stay here and do nothing."
Gibbs turned his gaze to Ducky and saw his friend was literally rocking back and forth on his feet with excitement. "Ducky?"
"Oh, my Lord, Jethro, you can't be serious!" He grinned with ferral delight, rubbing his hands together briskly. "Of course I'm going. I never wanted to leave young Anthony in the first place and, I know, neither did you. The Secretary is right, Jethro. We need to leave this in his capable hands and regroup. I don't know what kind of condition Anthony is in at the moment but I dare say he would be glad to see all of us."
Gibbs knew Ducky was right but he was still having a difficult time letting go and trusting Walter Pennington to do right by them. He locked gazes with the SecNav, studying him closely, trying to see into the man's soul. The dark eyes stared back, meeting the assessing gaze unflinchingly, calm, cool, and unaffected by the thorough examination.
"I can take the rest of my team with me," Gibbs spoke and it was more of a statement than a question.
"Of course," Pennington agreed without hesitation. "Just as I said."
"And how long will we be having to stay in Red Bluff?"
"Until I tell the Marines to bring you all home," he said and immediately saw the anger reflare. "The Commander-in-Chief, himself, has ordered a representative of the CDC to meet in Red Bluff to determine Agent DiNozzo's potential threat to others..."
"He's not contagious!" Gibbs interrupted.
"...and until that time, the President wants him to remain in Texas! Hell's bells, Gibbs, I don't know about you but *I'm* not going to be the one to tell him you're unhappy with the arrangement. I swear, throwing you back into 'protective custody' sounds better and better all the time to me!"
Gibbs and Pennington continued to to exchange stares until, finally, the former Marine nodded. "I hope I'm not making a mistake by trusting you, sir."
"Agent Gibbs," the SecNav sighed loudly, his frustration almost palatable in the confines of the spacious office, "I seriously doubt there's very many people you *do* trust in this world, so I won't take offense. Now, get the hell out of my office and get yourself to Texas."
And with that final order, Gibbs and Ducky left, taking all their hopes and many of their fears all the way to Red Bluff.
TBC
Author's Chapter Notes:
DiNozzo experiences more confusion...but Gibbs is finally seeing the light.
Chapter End Notes:
First section is told from DiNozzo's POV.