I thought I'd seen just about everything a gruff, fifty-six year old, widowered ex-jarhead could see in a lifetime. I've raised a daughter virtually by myself, I'm the owner, operator, and chief guide of the Double D Lodge, and have lived and worked in the wilds of west Texas all my life, except for the time I put in as service to my country. I've had my education, carried a rifle and killed in the name of peace, buried a young wife after watching her suffer from cancer, become a bit of a minor celebrity in the hunting and fishing world because of my outdoor skills but, until those two unfamiliar motorcycles pulled up into the circular drive outside of my establishment three days ago, I actually believed I was prepared to handle just about anything and everything thrown in my direction.
I was wrong. Just goes to show, education never stops, no matter how old you are.
Hell, I've gotten fairly use to seeing strange and unusual attire or behavior from the clients and guests who lease time at my lodge, use to having both men and women, from the very simple to the most sophisticated, expressing ideals and thoughts so contrary to my own and so far out of the 'norm' I often thought they came from a different planet instead of just a different state. Weirdos...the world is full of weirdos, I tell you. But I have to admit I was momentarily taken aback when those three strangers arrived unannounced just before dark, bearing a message from one of my oldest and closest Marine buddies. I wasn't prepared for what was being brought my way but knew I couldn't let Leroy Jethro Gibbs down, especially since I owed the man my life.
But that's another story all together...
I guess I should explain a bit more about where I live, to give a sense of the surroundings. Red Bluff is a community of weather-toughened individuals who live and work along a scattering of unpaved, primitive roads on the southern bank of the Red Bluff Reservior in the wilds of the west Texas panhandle. No interstate or blacktop out here and that alone keeps most of the nosey tourists away. These are good, hard-working, God-fearing people who eek out an existence by working in the general store or the bait shops that operate beside an old, vacant hotel that was built when the Red Bluff Reservoir was constructed back in the late 1930s, when everyone thought the area was going to boom with the influx of businesses and families seeking cheap land. Instead, those who remained found their livelihood dependent upon the whims of the seasonal changes and the hunters and fishermen which migrate our way at different times of the year. I'm not the only one in the area running a lodge catering to gamers and anglers but I've certainly been the most successful and I have to give most of the credit for that to my daughter for having such a keen business head on her shoulders. Amanda knows how to crunch numbers and advertise, I know how to handle people with rifles and very little common sense. What a team.
There are a few cattle and crop farmers around but, with the harsh, scorched land and the high salt content in the brackish water flowing in from the Pecos River, the chances for a successful and profitable livelihood from the land is almost null. My nearest neighbors, Reuben Manning and his wife, Mary, do a pretty good job of growing cotton but that's a hard, unpredictable life and not for me. I watched my Granddaddy and uncles turn into beaten, disillusioned, old men as their crops were wiped out by insects or drought or, in one instance, disease. I vowed to find a way to keep the land my parents left to me without having to kill myself in the process and, thank God, I did.
The small, close-knit population of Red Bluff has never exceeded more than seventy inhabitants at one time and, according to those who were born and raised here, it takes a *real* Texan to appreciate and remain within the community for life. I guess I'm considered a real Texan now because I don't ever intend to leave Red Bluff again.
Catering specifically to those 'tourists' interested in hunting or fishing, the Double D Lodge sits on one hundread and forty-seven acres of rolling mesquite countryside that rises and falls and slopes all the way down to the banks of the Pecos River, not far from the reservoir. This is wild, unforgiving territory, full of rough cedar breaks, gravel hills with stands of hackberry trees and plumb thickets, and, along the fifteen and a half miles where the property fronts the river itself, areas of sand so innocuous-looking any infrequent or unlucky trespasser unfamiliar with the terrain usually ends up bogging their four-wheelers down in the soft, fine particles instead of finding a safe shortcut through. Serves them right. There's nothing I hate more than a bunch of drunk youngsters thinking they have the right to disrespect another's property and, if I ever catch intruders on my place, I make sure the law is notified. Hell, my land is my livelihood and I'll be damned if anyone or anything is going to ruin it for me and what's left of my family.
I try to make my place a hunter's paradise and, I suppose, I've succeeded to provide what many are looking for because the Double D has been featured in several national outdoor and hunting magazines and I'm able to advertise well, through the publications and through word-of-mouth. The property holds an abundance of native and exotic game, from dove to quail and pheasant and progressing up to Whitetail deer, Mouflin sheep, and an occasional wild hog. Any hunter hardy enough to brave the unforgiving countryside usually returns home satisfied with their stay and, as long as they've got the money to spend, I go out of my way to insure they have a good time. Hunting is not a cheap sport, as any gamer will tell you, but it's well worth the expense. I can't help it if most of my clients seem to be wealthy city-dwellers with more cash than common sense.
At any rate, when the three individuals arrived that evening on their motorcycles, just as the sun was beginning to set over the cliffs to the west, I was outside the lodge with Amanda, checking over one of the ATVs we use regularly to traverse the property. I immediately felt a prickle of apprehension and suspicion. We were between guests, using the free time for maintenance, and weren't scheduled to see anyone until next week, when a representative from the Texas Parks and Wildlife office was suppose to swing by for a yearly inspection.
My suspicion turned to surprise when the man of the small trio left the others and stepped close to deliver a message from someone I hadn't seen or spoken to in years but who I'd thought of often, especially when the weather was changing or I'd worked too hard and my back began to hurt. I couldn't help thinking about the man who'd pulled me from that burning transport, couldn't stop thanking God for having a buddy who'd stayed by my side when we were taking heavy enemy fire, and couldn't keep my prayers from including the name of the one man who'd kept me alive until the medics arrived: Leroy Jethro Gibbs. If LJ hadn't been there for me then, I'd never be able to be here for him now.
It was time for payback and I was only too happy to oblige.
That was three days ago and, now, I'm standing on the top step of the big front porch of the lodge, eyeing the familiar man swiftly striding up the wide walkway before me, grinning like some damn fool. Hell, if it wasn't for the color of his hair or the few extra pounds, he'd look exactly the same as he did when we served together, intense blue eyes and all. I have to look away for a moment and glance quickly at the throng of people spilling from the assorted military vehicles in the circular courtyard behind him. Shit. Just what in the hell is going on? There's a small scattering of civilians in the mostly Marine mix and I just know I'm going to be playing host to a few more guests than originally expected.
"Hot damn, LJ," I bark in the intruder's direction, my easy grin belaying the deep, harsh tones of my words, "you *never* do anything half-assed, do you?"
"Hello, D," Gibbs sends a warm smile right back at me and offers his hand in greeting. "It's good to see you again."
He got to be kidding me. If he thinks for one moment I'm just going to settle for some hand shake, after all these years and after all we've gone through together, he's out of his ever-loving mind! I sneer at the open palm directed toward me and swiftly reach to pull him into a tight, fierce bearhug, squeezing hard and laughing all the while. He returns the embrace without hesitation and pats my back carefully, remembering, I'm sure, what a mess it had been in when he came to my rescue long ago. I hear him grunt in my ear.
"It's not like I had any choice. When the SecNav orders a unit of Marines along for security, there's really nothing I can say."
The SecNav. Well, holy shit...
Releasing from the joint embrace, we step back and regard each other shrewdly, those passionate blue eyes scanning and assessing my warm gaze and open smile. I know what he sees...I see it myself every time I look into the mirror each morning. Where Gibbs' hair is turning a nice silver, I lost most of mine and have taken to shaving off what's left, leaving the skin over my skull as tanned as the flesh on my weather-roughened face. He raises an expressive eyebrow and rubs a calloused palm briskly over my bald head, knowing time had changed us both, inside and out. We both grin again. It's been several years since we've communicated and almost five since we've actually seen each other, so this first greeting is especially meaningful to both of us, the memories of our time spent together in the Corps rushing back and filling our senses.
"It's so good to see you, too, LJ," I can't stop grinning, my voice low and filled with undisguised emotion. How can I not be emotional? This is the guy who saved my life. I cough and take a step back, sweeping an arm wide to usher him inside. "Now, get your ass in here."
Gibbs pauses just long enough to glance back over a shoulder and calls out to a young man now standing uncertainly beside one of the vehicles, his youthful body doing a series of contortions as he obviously tries to stretch the kinks out of his spine. Shit, I can sympathize...I know exactly how he feels.
"McGee! Get the gear together and bring our personal stuff inside!"
"I'm on it, Boss!" Comes the youngster's immediate response and I have to smile again.
"Boss?" I inquire with a laugh and watch as my old friend lowers his eyes in a brief moment of embarrassment.
"Don't start." he warns good-naturedly and places a hand on one of my shoulders. The contact feels good...natural.
"How many are going to be staying in the lodge, LJ?" I ask, eyebrows rising as I take in the sight of the sheer number of people now milling around outside. "I already gave two rooms to those who arrived three nights ago, so that leaves just four others."
Gibbs smiles and shakes his head. "The enlisted personnel will set up outside, D, and they'll take care of themselves, so it'll be just me and the rest of my team...and a rep from the CDC is suppose to meet up with us here,too." I know he sees a flash of alarm in my eyes because he's immediately shaking his head again, trying to assure me. "There's nothing contagious or dangerous about this, D, I swear, but if you've got other guests here now, I suggest you do whatever needs to be done to get them out as quickly as possible." We turn and pace a few steps away from the open doorway, shoulders brushing as we move side by side, easily falling back into old habits. "I'm so sorry to be bringing this into your home but I just didn't know of anywhere else in the area my people could go and be safe."
I stop and place a hand on Gibbs' closest arm, grabbing the shirt sleeve tightly, and waiting only until the blue eyes are, once again, focused on my weather-beaten face. I'd be lying if I said the mention of a CDC rep doesn't scare the crap out of me but it makes me a bit angry he would even *think* I wouldn't open my doors to him or his people, especially if they were in some kind of trouble.
"Just hold it right there. I don't want to *ever* hear you apologize to me again. Understand? We've been through too much together and you know I'd come to you if the shoe was on the other foot." I offer a wry grin before continuing. "I knew there was some serious shit going down when those three scraggly bikers entered the property and Agent Fornell identified himself, especially after he passed your message on." I have to shake my head at the memory. "I had Amanda make the necessary arrangements and cancel the planned yearly visit from the Wildlife rep, so the place is yours for as long as you need. You hear me? For as long as you need."
Gibbs nods and I know he's hoping I realize how much this all means to him but, at my mention of Agent Fornell, I can see his thoughts are now drifting in that direction. He shifts from foot to foot and sighs.
"How are...they?"
I shrug one shoulder and have to wonder what caused his slight hesitation. Huh. I get him moving again and we stop only when we reach the base of the sprawling wood staircase that leads up to the second floor guest quarters.
"The two adults seem just fine but the kid...well, the kid's in rough shape." I can see his expression darken with concern. "What's wrong with him, LJ? Your people won't tell me anything."
Gibbs looks into my eyes and I can see he's working through something, considering what he *can* tell me against what he *should* tell me. He knows I won't push or be offended because he has to hold some things back but I can see he wants to give me some idea of the scope of the problem.
"I can't tell you much, D, only...he's not really a kid."
What? He's watching me closely now and I know my eyebrows must have risen so high they've migrated to the back of my skull.
"Not a kid? The hell, you say! How can that be? I saw him when they brought him in, LJ. He's a teenager..."
"He's one of my best agents," Gibbs is interrupting me quickly, "my senior field agent, to be exact, and he was used in an experiment that regressed his age."
Huh. Experiment that regressed his age.
"You're shitting me, right?" It's not that I don't believe him, it's just so...unbelievable.
Before Gibbs can respond, we get distracted by the entrance of some of his civilian team and Gibbs turns briefly as they move toward our location by the staircase. He leans close and speaks intimately, making sure I'm the only one able to hear. After that other little bombshell he just dropped, I listen *very* carefully.
"We'll talk more later, I promise," he pulls back as an older man steps closer. Gibbs turns and gestures to the new arrival and I have to think hard on how this small, demure-looking, little man could ever be any assistance to Gibbs. "D, this is my medical examiner, Doctor Donald Mallard."
Medical examiner. Oh. Well, that explains...absolutely nothing.
"Ducky, please," the older man requests in a slight British accent, smiling warmly and offering his hand to me in greeting. "I believe because we're going to be under your roof for awhile we should, at the very least, be on first a first name basis."
"Ducky, huh?" I grunt and shift my gaze back to Gibbs, wondering if he knows this is even more confusing to me. I take the dry hand and shake my head. "I hate to tell you this, Ducky, but there's nobody dead here. And I'm Daniel Dunn...but you can call be Dan or D, whichever you want."
"Thank you, Daniel," he says and I have to grin at his proper use of my given name, "and although I'm pleased to hear there's no one currently needing my expertise, I'm actually here to..."
"Ducky's real good with the living, too, D," Gibbs quickly interrupts and I get my first real indication that I'm not going to be included in everything. I can see the warning glance my old friend sends his colleague and the non-verbal communication that swiftly passes between them and I can't help the slight sting I feel. I know Gibbs is withholding certain things for my own good...what I don't know won't kill me. Still...
There's more movement by the doorway now and I lift my eyes from the medical examiner's kindly face and turn my attention to the young man and woman standing just to one side of the entrance, the contrast between the assembled males and this lone female is startling, like day to night...a very, dark, disturbing night. I can't help but stare and wonder what in the hell she is suppose to be and why she's dressed like that. This...freak...can't be a part of Gibbs' team, can she? Before I can voice my concerns, we get interrupted again.
"It's about time you got here," a feminine voice bites from the top of the staircase, immediately drawing our attention up, and we collectively watch as *Officer* David comes hurrying half way down the steps, Agent Fornell hot on her heels. "Where have you been? What..."
"We'll discuss this later," Gibbs cuts her useless questions off and I can see his eyes roam quickly from her slightly distressed face over to take in Fornell. Maybe he'll see what I've been seeing for the past few days and call the FBI agent out on it. Hell, the strained, pinched quality of Fornell's face and the angry glint in his dark eyes has got to be seen by everyone. Gibbs must see something because he suddenly steps closer, looks up at the man, and speaks softly...and very ominously. "Everything okay?"
David's brown gaze flicks quickly in Fornell's direction, some odd emotion passing over her pretty, exotic face, before resettling again on Gibbs. "Just glad to see you here. All of you."
Huh. Strange. I see Gibbs' eye travel to her face but he let's the moment go. Maybe he doesn't want to deal with it quite yet. I don't know what's happening but there's a tension in the room now that wasn't there moments before and I don't know what, or who, is causing it. There's a moment of uncomfortable silence and then a new voice speaks out.
"How's Tony?"
The dark-haired, spookily dressed freak asks, all wide-eyed and anxious, her little-girl pigtails swinging as she hurries away from the casually attired young man I now know is McGee and moves to stand a few steps down from David. She's got some stupid stuffed animal gripped in her arms and, I swear to God, it sounds like the thing just farted.
"Yes," Ducky pipes in, his easy smile fading as he, too, focuses on the reason for their arrival, "where is young Anthony? I'd like to see him, as I'm sure Roberta would." He suddenly turns back toward McGee. "Timothy, would you be so kind as to locate Lieutenant Commander Wainwright and have her come inside?"
"Sure, Ducky," McGee agrees quickly, after getting a small nod of consent from Gibbs, and carefully places the gear he's packing to one side, near a wall and well away from where someone could trip over them. Good boy.
Gibbs watches him go and then is looking directly back at me...and I get the distinct impression he's disappointed somehow. I frown in confusion.
"D, there's a Marine lieutenant outside who has documentation from the SecNav offically 'requesting' the use of your property for extreme-terrain maneuvers." I bark a dry laugh at the statement and wonder if any of my neighbors will ever believe that lie. Gibbs rolls his eyes and continues. "I don't know how long we'll be here but if there's anything you need, all you have to do is tell the lieutenant and he will make sure it's delivered within hours."
I eye my old friend and shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, keeping my expression carefully schooled as I gaze back at him. "I kind of figured this was going to be bad when Fornell gave me your message." I let my eyes flick toward the still silent FBI agent for just a moment. "I immediately sent Amanda to visit her aunt in El Paso and told her not to call or to try and come back until I said otherwise."
Gibbs is nodding his head and, at the mention of my daughter, he seems to relax a bit. "You did the right thing...though I imagine she didn't appreciate getting kicked out of her own home like this. How is she?"
"She's good," I shrug and pass it off. "And she'll get over it. She's learned to go with the flow over the years."
"Like her old man," Gibbs nods again and I can't help the proud grin that escapes.
"Yeah," I agree, "like her old man."
Gibbs turns away from me and focuses on the odd-looking, young woman, who is now openly gawking at the deer head mounted over the huge stone fireplace, her bright, wide eyes open with something akin to shock. I don't get it...I thought she'd be the first one to like the sight of dead animals.
"I know you want to see Tony," Gibbs is speaking to her, "but I think we should let Ducky and Lieutenant Commander Wainwright check him out first. You go with Ziva and get settled into her room and stay there until I tell you otherwise."
"But, Gibbs..." she starts to protest, a slight frown marring her pale, smooth face, and I wonder if Gibbs will put her in her place.
"Do as I say, Abby," he quickly but gently orders and takes a step closer, raising a hand to rest one one of her shoulders, his blue eyes swiftly transmitting his need for her to obey without question.
Huh. That's not what I expected...not from Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Maybe the years have softened him.
The girl...Abby...looks at him closely for a moment, her big eyes seeing something I obviously can't, and immediately agrees with a soft sigh. "Okay, Gibbs...whatever you say. But you'll come and get me as soon as possible, right? I mean, everyone else has had the chance to see Tony and all I've gotten to do was speak to him on the phone and that's so not fair."
Gibbs squeezes the shoulder soothingly and with a lot more care than I would use. "I know, Abs. I imagine he'll want to see you, too, but it's important we make sure the medical staff assesses him first. Plus, I want you and McGee to start setting up a command center as soon as everything is unloaded." He shifts his eyes back to me, knowing I've heard his request. "We've got a ton of tech gear and communications equipment, D. Any particular space we can use for that?"
I nod and gesture with a hand toward the large, double-door entryway just to my right. "The trophy room is used for small gatherings sometimes. It should fit the bill."
"Trophy room?" Abby squeaks, eyes growing impossibly larger. She shifts a bit closer to Gibbs and lowers her voice, speaking out of the corner of her mouth. It doesn't matter...we all can hear her words and I can't help the chuckle her discomfort brings. "He's not talking about bowling trophies or golf trophies, is he?"
Gibbs offer a sympathetic grin and just shakes his head. "No."
The young woman sighs and slants her eyes toward David. "I guess you should show me where I'll be sleeping. I think I want to change into something more...appropriate...anyway."
As Abby turns away to retrieve her large duffle from the others McGee placed by the wall, David takes a sudden step closer, her dark eyes intent on her boss. "Gibbs, I wish to speak to you. In private."
Gibbs frowns at the request but, before he can speak, Abby is turning back around and facing them, that stupid, stuffed animal making another rude noise. "Oh, come on, Ziva. It's not like I snore or anything..."
"This is not about you," David hisses quickly at the other woman but keeps her eyes firmly on the man before her. "This is about," she shifts uncomfortably, "something else."
I arch an eyebrow and chance a glance at Fornell. Something else...bet I can guess what.
Gibbs frowns again and we both can't help notice the way Fornell seems to stiffen where he's standing on the steps just behind the woman. It's strange but he hasn't said a word since Gibbs' arrival and even I can see he doesn't seem too pleased with what's happening. Maybe he and Officer David have had a spat, maybe he's concerned Gibb's arrival will signal the end of his little reign of command, or maybe, just maybe, he'll have to explain his actions concerning his 'care' of the kid...agent...he's kept virtually as a prisoner in his room since their appearance three nights ago. Whatever it is, it's Gibbs' problem, not mine. Thank God.
"Get Abby settled and then come see me," Gibbs is nodding at David.
That seems to satisfy her, for the moment anyway, and she reluctantly turns away to re-climb the staircase, brushing briskly past as eeriely quiet Fornell. Gibbs spares the FBI agent another quick, assessing look but can go no further with his concerns because McGee is back with another woman in tow, this one dressed in a Naval uniform bearing the insignia of a Lieutenant Commander. This woman is obviously a medical professional and here to see to the guy upstairs.
"Where's Agent DiNozzo, Donald?" She gets right to the point, a large, black medical bag gripped firmly in her capable hand. "The sooner we examine him, the sooner we can start looking for some type of treatment."
"I'll show you," Fornell finally offers softly, speaking up for the first time, and turns slowly to climb back up the stairs, shoulders sagging and head bent down.
Christ, it looks like he's going to a damn funeral...or his own execution. Seeing an angry glint flash in Gibbs'eyes, he may very well be wishing he was going to the gallows. Hell, if I had my pick, I'd take them over Gibbs' fists any day.
Ducky and Wainwright and, now, McGee, too, are all immediately following in his wake but, before Gibbs can start after them, I grab one of his arms and hold tight. I lower my voice and speak for his ears only.
"There's something very strange going on with that one."
Gibbs frowns and focuses on my face, tilts his head to one side, and scowls at the concern I'm sure he can see in my eyes...and at my choice of words. "Strange? How so?"
I can only shake my head. If I knew exactly what it was, I'd sure as hell tell him.
"Can't really say, LJ. Just...strange. He's been holed up there with that kid most of the time, taking care of him and all. Won't let him out of the room, says he's too sick, but he hasn't even allowed Officer David in there for any length of time. Don't *you* think that's a bit strange?"
I can see he does. His blue eyes have gone hard and steely and he's gritting his teeth so firmly together I bet I can even hear the enamel grinding away, layer by layer, if I listen close enough. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly but he doesn't look any calmer to me, just more determined. I know he has to have a lot on his mind right now.
"D," his voice is low but I can hear him clearly, "you need to get that formal request from the lieutenant outside and review it carefully with him. Make sure you understand everything. Ask him questions about anything you need clarified and let him know where they can set camp. They may have orders from the SecNav but this is still your property."
"Of course, LJ," I assure calmly. He knows I will...we were both good soldiers.
"Look," he leans close and his hand is back on my shoulder and I know he's going to finally say what he's been wanting to say for awhile now, "Abby is a great young lady and an invaluable asset to my team. Don't let her appearance fool you." I nod but we both know we'll be having more of a discussion about her later. He knows how I feel about people who have tattoos and dress like they don't give a shit about what other people think. Egotistical fools, all of them. "I've got to go see DiNozzo for myself and spend a little time with him but, I promise, you and I will talk about this whole situation later, after everything is set up and we're all settled. Can you give me some time?"
Shit. Of course I can.
"You don't have to ask," I just want to comfort him now, seeing the fatigue and anxiousness playing around in the depths of the usually expressive eyes. "Listen, there's a big pot of deer chili on the stove in the kitchen. Tell your people to make themselves at home and to just help themselves to anything they need." I allow a small, lopsided smile to escape. "This is my lodge but Amanda usually does the cooking, serving, and cleanups for the guests so, with her in El Paso now, it's going to be every man...or woman...for themselves."
Gibbs smiles and nods. "We'll take care of ourselves, D. Thank you."
He squeezes my shoulder one more time and the warm hand drops away. I watch as he turns and heads up the stairs, taking the risers two at a time. I can see he's in a hurry and I know it's because of the kid...DiNozzo. There's a story there but, I suppose, I'll have to wait to hear that one, too.
____________
Gibbs hustled away from his old friend and set a course in the direction of the room he'd seen Fornell take the others just moments ago, his heart pounding wildly at the thought of finally seeing DiNozzo again. He'd be lying if he said he was only interested because it was one of his team members laying sick in that bed and was merely concerned about the younger man's health. In reality, there was nothing more he wanted to do than bust through that bedroom door, tell every other person in the room to get the hell out, and just sweep DiNozzo into a hard, rough embrace, holding tight and never letting him go again. Gibbs grunted as he neared the closed door and shook his head at those traitorous thoughts.
'Get a hold of yourself, you idiot.'
Taking a deep, calming breath, he reached for the handle, gave it a sharp twist, and stepped into the quarters he now knew DiNozzo had been sharing with Fornell...for three nights. The thought of the two of them, alone and together, with DiNozzo so weak and needy, sent a swift shard of jealousy flaring in Gibbs' brain but he tamped it down and let his eyes take in the scene.
McGee was standing nervously just to one side of the entryway, his serious face pale and his expressive eyes wide with some unidentifiable emotion. He looked a bit shocky, so Gibbs took a moment to get his attention, knowing it was best to put him to work immediately and get his mind focused on something productive.
"McGee," he spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the small group huddled around the bed, their bodies all but blocking his view of DiNozzo, "I need for you to help Abby get all the tech support equipment set up in the trophy room. Take Ziva with you and tell her I'll talk to her after I've had a chance to see what the doctors say about DiNozzo. She can help you until I'm finished here."
"Wh...where's the trophy room, Boss?" The young man whispered and nodded, keen mind already turning to the task at hand.
"Get D to show you," Gibbs responded but, at McGee's blank look, knew he needed a clearer explanation. "The man who owns this place is Daniel Dunn. Ziva knows him. Hell, she's been here for several days so she probably knows where the trophy room is. Just ask her."
McGee nodded again. "On it, Boss."
Gibbs watched him leave and made sure the door was closed completely before turning back to the bed and taking his first step closer to DiNozzo. Ducky took that exact moment to shift to one side, allowing a clear, unobstructed view of the bed, and the sight of his agent's...his lover's...position on the wide mattress was almost enough to send him into a rage.
Sitting calmly on the bed, with his back against the solid, wooden headboard and both arms looped securely around DiNozzo's shivering form, Fornell was tenderly holding the trembling, sweating, young body close to his chest and whispering gentle, soothing words, his face pressing close and his lips skimming the shell of one delicate ear. It was easy to see DiNozzo was troubled and upset and wanting to resist everything Ducky and Wainwright were trying to do for him. It was also very easy to see how his slim, shaking fingers were grasping at Fornell's shirt, pulling the man close, almost appearing to be seeking protection and comfort. The green eyes were wild and awash with tears and the trembling mouth kept rasping a repeating litany of 'no' and 'please' and...'Tobias'. And through it all, Fornell's hands just kept rubbing and pressing and stroking...
Gibbs took another step closer to the bed.
"Anthony," Ducky's calm voice belied the anxious look in the older man's face, "we mean you no harm. You know we only want to help you."
"No...no..." DiNozzo was pressing his face to Fornell's chest, one leg thrown over the bigger man's thigh, begging for salvation from the only person who seemed to be able to have any success. "Please...Tobias, please..."
"Shhh, it's okay," Fornell was stroking the damp hair away from the younger man's forehead with gentle fingers, the gesture more like a caress, keeping his tone steady and light. "Come on, Tony, you remember Ducky. That's who's here. Ducky is going to take care of you now."
"No!" DiNozzo buried his face and began to pant, his voice rough and ragged, fingers digging in even tighter, holding on to Fornell like he was his last chance for survival. "*You* take care...of me. Please, Tobias. Please...don't leave me..."
Gibbs was next to the bed now, his eyes dark and dangerous, listening to every word DiNozzo said.
"We've got to get him settled down so we can get on with the examination," Wainwright was getting frustrated by having their efforts continually rebuffed. She moved to the open kit resting atop the blanket chest at the foot of the bed and began looking through her medications. "We need to administer a sedative. When's the last time he had any morphine?"
When no response was forthcoming, Ducky frowned and looked directly at the FBI agent, his distaste apparent. "Tobias! Answer Lieutenant Commander Wainwright this instant! When was the last time you administered morphine?"
Fornell seemed to shake himself out of whatever spell he was momentarily under and focused on the medical examiner's annoyed face, suddenly aware of how his over-protectiveness must seem to them. He squinted in concentration and thought hard about the response while trying to keep DiNozzo from becoming more agitated.
"About an hour ago, I think..."
"You think?" It was clear what Ducky thought about the uncertain response from the harsh tone of his voice and the hard line of his downward-turned mouth. The older man bent forward, bringing his face closer to Fornell's, his eyes sharp and unforgiving behind the lenses of his glasses. "Where's the rest of the morphine, Tobias?"
Fornell's eyes flashed to the doctor's face and he swallowed nervously. "Why?"
Gibbs was immediately on the bed, sitting on the edge opposite from where Ducky was now standing, watching closely as the older man reached out and grabbed one of Fornell's arms. It was difficult to ignore DiNozzo's sounds of distress but they could all see Fornell was holding something back from them and the fine hairs on the back of Gibbs' neck rose in alarm.
"Give him to me," Gibbs ordered, eyes boring into the FBI agent's and arms reaching out toward his ill colleague.
Fornell looked like he was going to deny the demand, like he intended to remain on the bed holding on to DiNozzo forever, and that nothing anyone said or did was going to make him leave. He squeezed his grip tighter and pressed his face against DiNozzo's hair, closing his eyes against the rush of emotion.
"I've taken care of him," he hissed in defense. "I was here for him when none of you were around. I saw to his needs and kept him safe. Not you...me. He needs *me* now, don't you, Tony?"
"Please..." DiNozzo whimpered, reacting instinctively to the sound of Fornell's voice.
Gibbs gently put one hand on DiNozzo's back. There was a slight flinch at the soft contact and another round of mumbled pleas but, other than that, the younger man remained relatively still. He wanted to snatch the slim body away from Fornell but sensed it needed to be done with more care.
"Tobias," Gibbs kept his voice as level and non-threatening as he could, "we all appreciate that you were able to do and what you continue to do for him but it's time for you to let go. You aren't helping him by doing this. He needs medical attention now. Give him to me and show Ducky where you put the rest of the morphine."
Fornell opened his eyes and peered directly into Gibbs' face. It was as close to a Mexican standoff as ever was seen but, finally, his grip around DiNozzo's body began to loosen and relax. The younger man whimpered and struggled to pull Fornell close, the almost incoherent, anxious mutterings taking on a strident and desperate sound.
Gibbs leaned close, eyes still locked with Fornell's, and whispered to his agent. "Tony? Tony, it's Gibbs. I'm here now and I'm not going to leave. Tony, do you hear me?"
DiNozzo didn't act like he heard a word the former Marine was saying and continued to clutch at Fornell's arms, face still pressing into the broader chest. If he felt when Gibbs moved in closer or when the other hand now arrived in his hair, he ignored it and continued to resist anything but Fornell.
"You're going to have to let go of him, Tobias," Gibbs said finally. "He won't let go of you as long as you continue to hold on to him in any way."
"No."
Gibb grit his teeth and shook his head at the man, feeling like he and Fornell were two old dogs fighting over the same bone. He slowly reached around and let his hands slide into the small area between Fornell and DiNozzo's bodies, letting his palms gently squeeze the overly-warm skin across the younger man's stomach and chest, his eyes still locked with his competitor. There was no mistaking this now: he and Fornell *were* fighting for DiNozzo.
"Ducky," Gibbs managed to keep his voice soft, "I think you and Roberta should step out just for a moment."
"Jethro..."
"Ducky," Gibbs voice was a bit louder, a bit harder, and, still, his eyes stayed on Fornell, "just do as I ask. Please."
Ducky sighed and, turning to face Wainwright, motioning for her to vacate the room. He could see she wasn't at all happy with this turn of events but knew she would comply.
"All right," the medical examiner conceded and began to move away, "but we need to see to Anthony as soon as possible. This whole assinine, alpha male posturing is simply..."
"Ducky!" Gibbs barked quietly, feeling DiNozzo flinch in his arms. "Please."
In only a moment, he heard the door open and close and knew they were all alone...he, DiNozzo, and Fornell...frozen in this strange tableau of a threesome on a bed. It could have been funny, under different circumstances, but was only sad now.
"Let go of him, Tobias," he ordered again and pulled slightly, feeling DiNozzo move a bit away from Fornell's loosened grip. "You've brought him this far but it's time for you to let go now."
"He doesn't belong to you," Fornell spat jealously and dipped his head to press a quick kiss to DiNozzo's forehead. "He can make his own choice."
"Not now he can't," Gibbs barely controlled his fury. "You can't take advantage of him while he's in this condition. It's not right..."
"You did in Utah!" Fornell bit back quickly. "You fucked him in Utah out in that guest house, while the rest of us were asleep."
"He came to me," Gibbs explained around his growing ire, "and he wasn't out of it like he is now. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Fornell's mouth moved but nothing came out and his eyes began to fill with a deep, hidden anguish. He bent his head again and rested it against DiNozzo's cheek, closing his eyes and sighing.
"I...I love him, Jethro. God help me, I do."
Gibbs swallowed back his denial and waited until he could manage to speak without anger. It took awhile but, when it finally happened, he was glad he sounded so calm.
"Tobias, I know you have feelings for Tony...hell, I've known that ever since this started...but you have to understand something: Tony and I have a relationship. Granted, it's fairly new and we'd only been involved for a short time before he was infected with that crap Martinez gave him, but, nevertheless, we were together...in every sense of the word."
Fornell's eyes had opened and were now focused on Gibbs' face and it was clear he was taking in everything he was being told. He swallowed thickly. "You and Tony were...intimate...before all this?"
"Yes."
"Seriously? I mean, it wasn't something casual or meaningless or a one-time thing?"
"No, it wasn't."
Fornell seemed to consider the simple response. He looked down into DiNozzo's quiet face, taking in the sweep of lashes against the bruised-looking skin under both eyes, the slightly-opened mouth that continued to pant soft, mumbled words, and the smooth forehead that was beaded with a fine sheen of perspiration. It was the face of the one person he wanted more than anyone in the entire world. But if Gibbs was right and he and DiNozzo had been involved before all this, than what chance did he really have to win the younger man's heart? What he was being shown now was nice: DiNozzo depended on him for just about everything. He made sure he was fed and kept clean and was given the morphine when the pain got too bad. They could lay together in this big bed and hold each other and Fornell could kiss and touch and...
"Let go, Tobias," Gibbs repeated softly. "Just let go."
Taking one last look at DiNozzo and pressing another kiss to those dry, full lips, Fornell eased back slightly and finally let go.
TBC
Author's Chapter Notes:
The team is finally all together but confrontations erupt.