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Chapter Text

Their relationship was a bit of a balancing act, at least when it ventured into the realm of communication. Gibbs tended to use words sparingly, as if he was paying dearly for every syllable. The gears of Tony’s thought process moved more fluidly when fueled by liberal verbiage. However, they’d learned plenty about dealing with each other over the years, especially in the arena of verbal jousting.

Tony respected that Gibbs tended to prefer less chatter, as his normal modus operandi could be described as ‘quiet reflection,’ or as Tony liked to call him, a ‘functional mute.’ However, he could also strike like a rattlesnake when provoked, which those closest to him were wise to keep in mind. To that point, Tony always made an effort to keep his yabba yabba confined to their work environment and attempted to limit his chatting whenever he spent the evening at Gibbs’ house. Ever astute, Gibbs didn’t need words to determine Tony’s moods.

Gibbs bided his time, working on his boat as Tony was sanding furiously. As long as he went with the grain, Gibbs was willing to give Tony time to work off whatever troublesome thoughts were pent up inside him. While it was obvious that Tony made an effort to trim down his word count during the time they socialized outside the office, it wasn’t like him to go dead silent, as he had this night.

After three hours of working in relative silence, Gibbs grabbed two mason jars and cleaned them out before splashing a double-shot of bourbon into each. When Tony glanced up at the sound of glass tapping together, Gibbs nodded for him to take a break and join him for a drink. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Tony set his sanding block and goggles down and made his way over to Gibbs. He loudly huffed as he accepted the offered glass and sat his ass down on a wooden sawhorse that Gibbs had undoubtedly put together himself.

Not a word was spoken before their first sip, nor their second. It wasn’t until Gibbs refilled the glasses that he finally asked, “What’s bothering you?”

Scrubbing his hand across the back of his head, Tony produced a half-hearted grin and replied, “I shouldn’t be surprised you could tell.” Without providing any more details, he dropped his eyes and stared at the amber liquid in his glass.

“Are you planning to tell me, or are you going to hold it in for the rest of your life?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Tony grimaced for a moment, then exhaled audibly and asked in a soft voice, “This will stay between us?”

“Do you really need to ask?” Gibbs quickly countered.

After another sip of his bourbon, Tony blurted out, “Ziva.” He focused on the floor for a few more moments before he looked up and met Gibbs’ concerned eyes. “Some things just don’t add up. You know?”

Gibbs polished off his second glass and refilled it again. “I gave her the benefit of the doubt…”

“Because she killed Ari, her half-brother, right here in your basement,” Tony finished for him. His eyes fell to the spot where Ari’s body had fallen and his blood had seeped across the floor in slow rivulets of death. Even though the blood had been scrubbed from the floor long ago, Tony always imagined he could still see the faint outline.

“More than that. Jen trusted her. I trusted Jen.”

“I just keep getting this…”

“Feeling that the hair on the back of your neck is standing up?” Gibbs questioned.

Tony smiled as he swirled the alcohol in his glass. It comforted him that they could finish each other’s sentences, proving once again their deep understanding of each other. “There’s a subtle shift sometimes, always when she’s speaking Hebrew. Or one of the other languages she’s fluent in. But the volume of her voice drops low, or she takes her cell phone and slinks off into a corner, out of earshot. She’s already speaking Hebrew, or Pashto, or whatever it is. Why does she need more privacy than that?”

“There are other people in the bullpen who speak multiple languages,” noted Gibbs as he refilled Tony’s glass for the third time. “You speak multiple languages.”

“Yeah, but still. Everything changes. Her mood, her mannerisms. She becomes…”

“Secretive,” Gibbs concluded with a nod. “Yep, I’ve noticed it, too.”

After a few long minutes of silence flowed by like a dark, foreboding river, Tony softly asked, “What are we going to do about it?”

Nodding slowly, Gibbs rubbed his hand across his jeans and stared at his glass for a moment before meeting Tony’s eyes. “Didn’t you say you always wanted to be Indiana Jones? Get digging.”

“Kudos for the movie reference, Boss.” Tossing his head back, Tony finished the rest of his bourbon and waved off Gibbs’ attempt to refill his glass again. “Should we bring in Abby and McGee?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Ziva’s smart, she’s sharp. If everyone is watching her, she’ll notice. She’ll get suspicious.”

“But you think I’m too good to be caught,” said Tony with a satisfied grin, puffing his chest out with a strong air of confidence.

Gibbs finished his drink and smirked as he put his goggles back on. “Of course, you’re good. But she’ll just think you’re flirting with her.”

“Should I be?”

Gibbs rolled his eyes and went back to working on his boat. After several minutes, he said, “If you’re too drunk to drive, you know where the cot is.”

Yeah, he knew. Tony had stayed over at Gibbs’ house on a few occasions. Certainly enough times to know Gibbs tended to crash on the sofa. While there was a staircase to a second floor, Tony hadn’t ever ventured upstairs. Gibbs had never offered anything more than the cot in the basement. However, once when Tony was sick and miserable, Gibbs took the cot and gave Tony the sofa. It wasn’t much better, but it meant he didn’t have to use the stairs to get to the half bath at the back of the house.

“Sleeping in the basement sort of sucks, Gibbs. Can I bring the cot upstairs? Or a use a sleeping bag?”

Setting down his glass and returning his attention to the boat’s hull, Gibbs responded, “There’s a bedroom upstairs. Jackson uses it when he’s here. But you’ll have to put sheets on the bed. And wash them when you’re done.”

Tony nodded. “I can deal with that. Especially since we’re off tomorrow.”

When Gibbs decided not to bring in anyone else who worked at NCIS, he meant it. Turning instead to his ex-wife Diane’s other ex, FBI agent Tobias Fornell. Early Saturday morning, Gibbs left Tony asleep upstairs and made a call as he took a drive in his pickup truck. “I need a favor on the down-low, Tobias.”

“What’s up?”

“I need to borrow one of the FBI safe house apartments.”

“Dare I ask why?”

Gibbs lowered his voice, “We might have a mole at NCIS. This needs to stay between you, me and DiNozzo.”

“DiNozzo, the sexy Italian guy on your team, right?”

“Yeah,” replied Gibbs. “The one you threw in jail about five years ago. You know damn well who DiNozzo is!”

“Don’t get huffy. He was cleared.”

“You owe him one, Tobias. One questions-free small apartment. It doesn’t need to be anything fancy, but he’ll need wi-fi access.”

Snorting, Fornell suggested, “How about I get him an FBI laptop? Just saying, if you gear up the apartment with NCIS property, someone may start snooping around. Signed-out company property leaves a paper trail that anyone could stumble across if they go poking around.”

A few moments of silence slipped by as Gibbs contemplated his options. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“And Gibbs, I will need to know just a smidgen about what’s going on. I can’t book out an apartment and gear without any justification. But I promise to go to bat for you. How far up the food chain does this go? Do you think SecNav is involved?”

“No. It’s an agent. And also might have involved the previous director to some extent, with or without her knowledge.”

“Ah, the Israeli chick. Got it. Let’s get a meeting on the books, you, me and SecNav.”

“I don’t know if this needs to go through SecNav’s hands…”

“If you want the apartment, we’ll need his approval. Like I said, I’ll walk the line for you, but it needs to go through proper channels. Otherwise, they’ll probably double-book the place and that could get messy. Look, you’ve got SecNav’s number. He’s here every Tuesday morning for a briefing. Ask him for five minutes. I’ll make myself available. No one wants a foreign mole in one of our alphabet agencies. He’ll listen.”

“It would be mighty embarrassing if he turned us down and it was eventually proven to be true,” Gibbs pointed out.

“Exactly.”

Tony and Gibbs went into the NCIS office on Saturday afternoon, working together to come up with substance for their joint report. They pulled files and made copies. Working in relative silence, they sat together for hours organizing and making copious notes. There was an easiness to their alliance. It was reminiscent of the few months when they worked as partners before the director suggested they add a female agent to their team. It wasn’t at all difficult to fall back into a routine of depending on only each other.

On Sunday, they sorted everything out on Gibbs’ dining room table. When their stomachs began to rumble with hunger, they ordered in Chinese for lunch and a pizza for dinner. Throughout the day, they spent hours putting everything in order and trimming it down to a concise synopsis they could present to SecNav.

The pair was careful not to tip their hand when they were back in the office on Monday. Instead, they acted as if everything was business as usual. On Tuesday morning, Gibbs grabbed his badge and weapon with a quick nod to Tony. “DiNozzo, with me.” He knew his junior agents would never question his orders directly if they knew what was good for them.

Tony grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder as he rushed to catch the elevator, calling out, “On your six, Boss,” as he raced across the bullpen. Once the doors slid closed, he smiled. “Smooth. But what should I say when they ask where we went?”

Gibbs chuckled. “Tell them we booked an hour at a sleazy motel. That’ll make their heads spin.”

The comment knocked Tony right off his rails. It wasn’t anything he ever thought he’d hear Gibbs say, even in jest. For once, he was left speechless. It wasn’t until they reached the sedan that he responded. “We could just use the MCRT truck. I mean, if we really were fooling around with each other.”

“Delayed reaction?” Gibbs asked with an amused smirk as they got into the car.

“It’s not the sort of thing you normally joke about. Not that you joke about much at all.”

“You should always expect the unexpected,” said Gibbs as he shifted the sedan into reverse and backed out of the parking spot before zipping toward the guard gate.

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! Come on, Boss. Monty Python,” Tony said as the security gate bar lifted.

Without responding, Gibbs pressed the accelerator down more forcefully as he dodged and wove his way through the DC traffic. Tony had long given up clinging to the passenger side door. As fast as Gibbs usually drove, they probably wouldn’t walk away from a crash anyway. Or at least, clinging to the door wouldn’t make any difference regarding any injuries he might sustain.

“Ever see the movie Thelma and Louise, Boss?” asked Tony.

“Sounds like a chick flick.”

“It is, but I think you’d appreciate the ending.”

“Nah. I’d rather go out like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

“Really?”

Gibbs smiled as he parked outside of the FBI building. “Don’t need to find a cliff to die in a shootout.”

They were both wearing suits to work in anticipation of their presentation. It wasn’t all that odd for Tony, but for Gibbs, it always indicated he was meeting with someone important. It was a given that Ziva and Tim would question Tony about where they’d gone, but neither one would dare ask Gibbs.

As they climbed the steps to the building, he turned to Tony, his voice low, “If they ask, tell them it’s classified.”

Tony grinned with mirth. “That’ll drive them nuts.”

“Exactly.”

“It really is none of their business.”

Reaching the door first, Gibbs opened it, allowing Tony to pass through before him. “But you know they’ll ask.”

The pair flashed their badges inside the lobby and waited for Fornell to come down to meet them. After an amiable greeting, he handed them each a visitor’s badge. As he led the way up to his office, he explained that someone would call when SecNav was available. In the meantime, he asked them a few questions, including how certain they were about there being an issue.

It wasn’t long before they were notified that SecNav was waiting for them in one of the conference rooms. Despite there being a long table with several chairs, the four men sat close together at one end. There were two carafes of water and a pot of coffee set between them as they took their seats.

SecNav and Fornell quietly listened as Tony laid out the basics.

“All we’re asking for is a small apartment that is unknown to anyone at NCIS,” Gibbs said once Tony was finished with the sales pitch, divulging the reasons they found Ziva’s actions suspect.

SecNav kept his expression neutral. “So, you have nothing concrete, is that what you’re telling me?”

“Sir, what we have is a trail that we’d like to follow. If there is anything there, and she finds out we’re investigating her… Well, she’s not stupid,” said Gibbs.

“We don’t want to spook her,” added Tony. “If she is spying for Mossad, we’d like to know what intel she’s after and where she’s sending it. But we’ll need some time and privacy to do the deep research.”

“And you can’t use your place or Gibbs’ house?” SecNav asked.

“Too risky. Gibbs’ door is always unlocked and we all stop by unannounced. If anything changes, it would be suspicious. And Tim and Jimmy sometimes come to my apartment. I don’t have enough extra room to hide a gnat.”

Straightening in his seat, Gibbs explained, “We’re just asking for the use of a small apartment. Something the FBI is already paying for anyway. A place where we can work and not be concerned about being interrupted.”

“For how long?”

Gibbs shot a quick glance at Tony, then met SecNav’s eyes. “Give us six months and either we’ll have something substantial by then. Or we won’t.”

SecNav slowly nodded, turned to Fornell and cleared his throat. “If you can set it up, I’m okay with it.” Turning back to Gibbs, he continued, “But if you have nothing to show for six months of work, that has to be the end of it.”

Gibbs nodded his agreement.

As they all rose to their feet, Tony blurted out, “Just to be clear, we’ll work on this evenings and weekends. We’ll be handling our normal workload at the office.”

“So Ziva doesn’t become suspicious that we’re away from the office,” offered Gibbs in explanation.

“Let me know what you find,” SecNav replied succinctly as he stood up and headed for the door.

After SecNav left the room, Tony and Gibbs followed Fornell back to his office where he located a form, filled it out and waved for them to follow him. Within minutes they had the keys to an apartment and a laptop issued by the FBI, along with a small box of office supplies.

Tony sat in the back seat as Gibbs drove. Fornell held onto the laptop until they arrived at the apartment. The building required a code to get into the small lobby. From there, they climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. Fornell explained the elevator and main lobby both had security cameras, but in the stairwells, the only cameras were on the exterior doors. It was agreed that it was better to avoid being captured by the security cameras when possible. By parking in the attached lot, and using the stairs, they could enter through the rear of the building and avoid all but one camera.

“Well, at least we’ll stay fit,” said Tony.

The apartment was small, as advertised. As they stood inside the door, they were in the main room, with a kitchenette running along the left wall, there were three doors at the far end of the apartment. Fornell explained it was a bathroom, a linen closet with a stacked compact washer and dryer, and the bedroom.

After leading the way into the bedroom, Fornell showed them the safe that was built into the wall behind one of the dressers. “We always keep any laptops and files in the wall safe. Can’t be too careful,” warned Fornell as he handed over the keys and gave them the combination to the safe. He also pointed out the small desk with a printer in one corner. “There’s some paper in the bottom drawer. I hope you two enjoy your little hideaway. We will expect you to wash the sheets when you’re done.”

Tony opened his mouth, but again found himself at a loss of words as they exited the bedroom, walking back through the apartment. He made note that there was a sofa, a television, a treadmill, and a stationary bicycle in the living room.

“It’s used as a safe house,” said Fornell. “Sometimes we’re protecting someone who isn’t allowed to leave for a while. And the sofa folds out into bed if needed.”

“Good to know,” Tony replied.

“There are hardwired connections in the living room and bedroom. Those are directly connected to the FBI’s intranet service. It’s more secure than regular wi-fi. I can give you the password if you want to use it.”

“Yeah, more secure would be better.”

Gibbs opened the refrigerator and leaned over to inspect the contents, finding it stocked only with a few condiments. The freezer contained a few frozen meals, and he also found some canned goods in one of the cabinets. “If you’re lucky, Fornell, we’ll empty out the fridge and wash all the dishes when we're done.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for. If you need any help, you know how to reach me.”

“Like when you arrested me?” asked Tony.

“Are you still whining about that? I was just doing my job, and you were cleared. Get over it already. Both of you.”

Once Fornell departed, Gibbs handed one of the keys to Tony and added the other to his own keyring. “For security reasons, this remains locked at all times,” he said, pointing to the deadbolt.

“Got it.”

“If you want to stay here overnight to get more work done, you can,” offered Gibbs as he eyed the room again. “I can come over anytime you need my help.”

Tony nodded. “Not a bad idea. I can keep a few suits here.” Walking back into the bedroom, he took notice of the desk and smiled when he saw the television. “I might as well just work in here.”

“We’ve got the place for six months. Might as well stock it up with more canned goods and frozen stuff,” suggested Gibbs.

“Sounds like a plan. So, am I on this project alone, or are we working it together?” Tony asked.

“I’m in it with you. I can stop by after work and on weekends as needed. Just let me know.”

“And there’s always the sofa bed if you get tired. Plenty of room in the dressers and closet if you want to keep some clothes here, too. It could save you some drive time, especially on the weekends, if you just wanted to hang out here and work.”

“Do you really need my help?”

And there was a look between them as their eyes met. Tony felt his face turning crimson with embarrassment and he could think of nothing else to do except to escape from the space and Gibbs’ smoldering eyes. So, he smiled and hurried toward the door. “Groceries. I’ll make a list. We’ll keep steak in the freezer. Such a shame there’s no fireplace or balcony with a grill.”

Chapter Text

While they had current cases to handle during the day, Gibbs and Tony were working backwards with Ziva’s calls and emails at the apartment when they were off duty, looking for any suspicious strings to follow. Using the FBI laptop and intranet connection, Tony was able to access and securely download anything he needed from the NCIS server. He smiled gleefully in knowing if anyone from the NCIS cyber team stumbled over what he was doing, the FBI would be blamed for it.

As much of Ziva’s correspondence was in Hebrew, Fornell gave Tony access to the FBI language translation software and offered to have someone from that department double-check anything that didn’t make sense. He’d also provided Tony with contact information for Penelope Garcia, noting that no one in the translation department would question anything they got from her as she was part of the FBI’s prestigious BAU (Behavior Analysis Unit).

Tony found that he spent so much time on research that he brought his goldfish to the FBI apartment and only went to his own place once a week to check on things and occasionally swap out some of his clothes.

In the beginning, Gibbs only came to the apartment once every week or two. Tony understood why. Everyone knew how much Gibbs enjoyed a good interrogation, and so far, there was no need for that on their secret case. And it wasn’t that Gibbs wasn’t smart enough to do the research, but he was old school and preferred handling paper documents over electronics.

When he did spend an evening at the apartment, Gibbs generally brought along a stack of files and his reading glasses. While he was happy to review printed material and bounce around theories, he left all the computer work to Tony. It was also a bonus they could hook the laptop up to the printer in the apartment so Gibbs could have all the hard copies he wanted.

Their time together wasn’t the same as in the basement working on Gibbs’ boat, but it wasn’t too far off, really. Tony even bought a couple bottles of bourbon to break open at some point. When Gibbs balked at drinking alcohol as he had to drive, Tony waggled his eyebrows and reminded his boss that it was Friday and there was no need for him to return to the office until Monday.

“Toby said that couch folds out. I’m sure we can find some sheets for it,” said Tony, nodding to the sofa.

Gibbs eyed the couch. “I’m sure I’ve slept on worse.”

After grabbing a couple bottles of beer, from the refrigerator, Tony handed one to Gibbs. “Cheers! We’ll get to the bourbon later,” he said before taking a sip. “We can order in pizza if you want. Or I have some ravioli I could make along with a salad.”

“Either’s fine,” replied Gibbs, sitting down at the table with an open file.

Leaving his bottle of beer on the table, Tony returned to the kitchen and put a pot of water onto the stove to boil. Next, he pulled out a cutting board and began chopping up some vegetables for a salad. He and Gibbs had both promised their doctor that they'd add more vegetables to their respective diets.

He’d left his cell phone on the table while he was preparing dinner but turned to grab it when it vibrated. After quickly scanning the text, he sent a short message back and returned to the kitchen to add the ravioli to the boiling water.

“Who’s that?” Gibbs asked, not bothering to look up from the file he was reading.

“Garcia. Penelope Garcia.”

Lifting his head, Gibbs peered over his reading glasses at Tony.

“Who the hell is she? New girlfriend?”

“She’s with the BAU. Toby hooked me up with her.”

“What?” Gibbs asked.

Grabbing two plates, along with forks and knives, Tony began setting the table, then brought over the salad and a bottle of dressing. “I only have Italian Lite dressing. Is that okay?”

“Why is Fornell hooking you up with this Penelope Garcia person?” Gibbs pushed.

“Oh, that. It’s nothing, Boss. I’m using their software to translate Ziva’s Hebrew calls and emails, but sometimes it doesn’t look right, you know? It’s more scrambled than her English mishaps. So, Fornell gave me Garcia’s info so I can send her files. She has someone from their translation department go over them and then she sends back the corrected translations.”

“Oh. Why does he have the BAU involved?”

Before setting the ravioli down, Tony scooped a bit onto each of the two plates, then took a seat. “I don’t think they are. But I think he trusts her and she can send and receive files. I got the impression he’s having her tell the translators the files are for a BAU case, so no one starts asking questions.”

Nodding Gibbs said, “Not a bad idea. Do you talk to her much? That Garcia person?”

Shaking his head, Tony reached for his napkin and finished chewing his food before looking over to Gibbs. “No. We only communicate through texts and emails. I don’t know anything about her, other than Toby said she’s a whiz with computers. Maybe we can introduce her to McGeek when this is all over.”

Satisfied there wasn’t anything more going on under his nose, Gibbs grumbled something unintelligible and glanced at the kitchen. “Any bread?”

“Sorry, all out. I can stop by the store tomorrow.”

“Food tastes good.”

“Thanks, Boss. I bought some steaks, but they’ll need to thaw. If you’re staying all weekend, I can take them out of the freezer and we can have them tomorrow. Shame there’s no fireplace.”

Gibbs nodded his consent as he continued eating his meal. After spending the evening scouring through the files he’d brought and the translation files Tony had received from Penelope Garcia, Gibbs asked about linens for the couch.

Tony grabbed a couple of sheets, a pillow and a blanket from the closet and brought them over to the sofa. “They said it folds out,” he reiterated.

With a shrug, Gibbs replied, “It’s fine like this. That’s what I’m used to.”

“Do you want to get in the bathroom first? Do you need a toothbrush or anything? I have a couple extras in there and you’re welcome to use my toothpaste and shampoo if you want to.”

Taking a seat, Gibbs began pulling off his shoes. “You go first. If you could leave a toothbrush out for me, that would be great.”

“Okay, Boss. I’ll see you in the morning. I have stuff for breakfast.”

“Not bread.”

Tony couldn’t help but smile. “There’s a store down the street. I’ll get some bread before I make breakfast.”

“And Tony, you don’t need to call me boss while we’re here.” Glancing at the door, he continued, “You never know what someone might overhear.”

“Sure… Gibbs.”

“You can call me Jethro when we’re here… If you want to.”

Flashing a weak smile, Tony nodded uncomfortably and dashed off to the bathroom.

The next morning, Tony awoke to the smell of coffee. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he checked his watch, seeing that it was barely after six AM. That was normal. Gibbs usually never slept much. As he was staying in the apartment, Tony felt like he was the host and Gibbs was his guest. It only seemed right that he should get up and make breakfast.

Standing up slowly, he yawned and stretched his muscles, listening to a few of his joints groaning and cracking. He wasn’t as young as he once was. Peering across the small apartment from the bedroom doorway, he smiled when he saw Gibbs sitting at the table, reading a newspaper, with a loaf of bread near the table’s center.

“Good morning,” Tony called as he made his way to the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower.”

The newspaper rustled as Gibbs snapped the sheets to straighten them as he glanced in Tony’s direction. “I’ll get breakfast started,” he said as he set the newspaper down and pushed his chair back with a gentle scrape across the floor.

“I can get it,” Tony replied, standing in his boxers.

“No, you shower. I’ll make breakfast. Hurry up. We have work to do.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay. Just give me fifteen minutes.”

In the bathroom, he saw Gibbs had bought a few disposable razors and a can of shaving cream. From the smell of the coffee, he probably also bought the brand he preferred, along with a loaf of bread and the newspaper.

By the time Tony was out of the shower, Gibbs had set the table and made a breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage patties and toast. And the super-strong coffee.

Taking his seat, Tony said, “Thanks. It smells great.”

“It’s the least I could do since you cooked dinner,” Gibbs replied as he cut another bite from the sausage on his plate.

“I’ve been staying here, so I’m used to making meals whether you’re here or not.”

“We’re in this together,” Gibbs reminded him. “I don’t mind helping out when I’m around. Now, finish up so we can get back to reviewing those emails.”

Nodding, Tony turned his attention back to his plate. By the time he was done eating, Gibbs had already finished washing the rest of the dishes, but had left the hot, soapy water in the sink for Tony.

There was a comfortable easiness about being together. Although, Tony still wasn’t sure about calling his boss by his first name. He’d never called Gibbs ‘Jethro’ since they’d met. He was always ‘Gibbs’ or ‘Boss’. Perhaps this was the start of a new phase of their relationship. And, Tony thought, that would be alright with him.

To Tony’s surprise, Gibbs remained at the apartment all weekend before heading home late Sunday evening. He departed carrying a stack of folders and barked out, “See you tomorrow.”

Not caring how late it was, Gibbs dialed Fornell’s number. “Why are you involving someone else?” he asked sharply, as he took a turn in his car.

“Gibbs, it’s late. Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

“I have coffee. Garcia. Why is she on this?”

“Penelope is our top computer expert. She’s really very good. The best, even. Tony called and said some of the computer-generated translations weren’t making sense. Nothing I’m working on would need translating. However, the BAU has a lot more leeway when requesting help. No translator is going to ask Garcia why she needs something translated. They’ll just assume it’s something the BAU is working on and they won’t ask questions.”

“Can she keep her mouth shut?”

“She’s trustworthy. She understands confidentiality.”

“Does the BAU know what we’re researching?” Gibbs pushed, now halfway home.

“No, not really. I asked Hotch if Garcia could check something out for me. I didn’t provide any details.”

“Who’s Hotch?”

“Aaron Hotchner. He’s the unit chief of the BAU.” After a long pause, Fornell added, “Are you worried Penelope is going to entice Tony away from you or something? I didn’t give her the address, but I’m sure she could locate the apartment in a heartbeat if she wanted to,” Fornell teased.

“Why?”

“Tony might get lonely spending so much time in the apartment by himself. He told me he was staying there, full-time.”

“Tony’s fine. I just spent the weekend with him. Heading home now.”

“You hitting on that?” Fornell pressed suggestively.

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Gibbs growled aggressively, then disconnected the call. He really missed having an old-style phone that he could slam down hard. He wondered if he should ask Tim if there was some phone app that could simulate slamming down a receiver.

Gibbs stayed away from the apartment until Friday night. Tim and Ziva dashed for the elevator the moment Gibbs said it was okay for them to leave. Tony was still wrapping up a report he was writing.

With a nod, Gibbs caught Tony’s attention. “I’ll bring pizza,” he said.

A smile brightened Tony’s countenance. “Sounds great. You know what I like.”

Briskly walking over to Tony’s desk, Gibbs leaned over, his lips close enough to Tony’s ear that the younger man could feel his breath. “We’re running out of time,” he whispered.

“I had a nice chat with Fornell the other day,” Tony replied softly.

“He ask you out on a date?”

“What? No! He shared new data. I’ll show you after dinner.”

As he normally did, Tony took a roundabout way to the apartment to ensure no one was following him. When he left NCIS, he always started in the direction he usually took to his own apartment. Once he was certain no one was on his tail, he made a few random turns as a decoy before going to his final destination. Even then, he was apt to take different routes throughout the week.

He was thankful the apartment included covered parking for his car. It wasn’t that he was paranoid. He simply knew that if Ziva was indeed a double agent, he’d better be especially careful. She could have someone watching him. He already planned out his cover story. If questioned, he’d say he was seeing someone and she lived in that building.

At any rate, it didn’t appear that Ziva was acting particularly suspicious toward him lately. He did his best not to give her any reason to become wary of him.

Entering through the back of the building, he took the stairs up to the apartment. As he opened the door, he immediately became concerned. He hadn’t left the lights on. And the alarm was no longer set like it should be. Without a second thought, he instinctively drew his sidearm and walked forward cautiously, searching through the front room. Nothing appeared to be disturbed.

Then there was a sudden whoosh sound and he immediately focused on the bathroom door. “Come out slowly, hands where I can see them,” he called authoritatively.

A man opened the door and turned the light out quickly as he exited the bathroom. “Keep your pants on, DiNozzo. It’s just me,” said Fornell.

Sucking in a deep breath of relief, Tony released it slowly as he holstered his weapon. “Toby, what are you doing here?”

“The apartment is signed out under my name. I thought I’d stop by and make sure you hadn’t trashed it with toga parties on the weekends.”

“No togas, no parties, and no trashing,” Tony said firmly. “Just work. Lots of work.”

“And bourbon,” said Fornell, nodding to the bottles on the table.

“Gibbs stops by now and then.”

Fornell walked by the kitchen counter and grabbed a file, which he brought over and dropped onto the table. “It’s what we discussed on the phone. I thought you might like the detailed report to review.”

“Personal delivery. Thanks. You could have emailed it.”

Fornell grinned. “I’m not really supposed to have it. I pulled in another favor for you.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony wondered what all these favors were going to cost him in the end. “Thanks for bringing it, then,” he said as he reached for the file and began thumbing through it.

A few moments later, the front door opened. Gibbs had arrived with an extra-large pizza.

Turning slightly to confirm it was his boss, Tony nodded to Fornell. “I hope you got enough for three, Jethro. It seems we’ve acquired an uninvited guest.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind since I came bearing gifts,” said Fornell.

Gibbs glanced around the room. “What gifts?” he demanded.

“Calm down. It’s just a file. Something I found in the pipeline.”

Grabbing three plates and a small stack of napkins, Tony quickly set the table. “He did have his pants down when I walked in,” he said with a mischievous grin and a lascivious waggle of his eyebrows.

Scowling, Gibbs glared at Fornell. “You did what?” he nearly shouted.

“Calm down, I was in the bathroom. I only came by to drop off the files, but I’ll gladly stick around for the pizza.”

Returning to the kitchen, Tony pulled out a bottle of red wine and three glasses. He knew it wasn’t Gibbs’ favorite drink, but it went with the pizza.

Before Tony made it to the table, Gibbs headed for the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. “You can keep that,” he said, nodding at the wine.

“It compliments the pizza, Jethro.”

Twisting off the bottle cap, Gibbs retorted, “So does this.”

“He’s a Neanderthal,” noted Fornell. “I’ll take the wine.”

As they ate, Fornell filled them in on the information he’d come across. There was a unit at the FBI who was certain that a team of suspected terrorists was setting up a base inside a home in a subdivision called Royal Woods. “It’s a good distance from the city, middle of nowhere. Gated community.”

Nodding, Gibbs said, “Keeps down the traffic near their house.”

“I thought you could dig through Ziva’s correspondence to see if anything connects. Garcia can help you if needed.”

“We’ll check it out.”

After dinner, the trio played cards for a couple of hours as they dug through the file Fornell had brought. Finally, Fornell checked his watch and said it was time he headed home. Getting up, he began walking toward the door.

Rising from the table, Gibbs headed over to see Fornell out. “You drive home safe, Tobias,” he said, still standing in the doorway.

“Aren’t you leaving, too?”

“I’ve been staying here on the weekends, so we can get more work done.”

Fornell leaned in close. “If you don’t hit that, I’m going to have to take a chance. Might have to put a gag in his mouth, but I’ll bet he’s worth it.”

Shoving Fornell into the hallway, Gibbs loudly said, “Good night, Tobias,” and quickly bolted the door.

Turning around, he saw Tony standing at the sink in the kitchen, wiping down the counters. The dishes they’d used were washed and in the drain rack.

Clicking the kitchen light off, Tony smiled at him. “I thought he’d never leave,” he teased.

Walking back to the fridge, Gibbs pulled out another beer. “I didn’t expect him to show up. You want one of these?”

“Sure. And I didn’t invite him. He said he got the file as a favor so he couldn’t have an electronic copy. He stopped by to drop it off.”

“He’s banking a lot of favors,” said Gibbs as he took a seat at the table, grabbed the file and put on his reading glasses.

“It sucks to owe Fornell anything, but if we’re right about Ziva, I guess it’ll be worth it.”

Staring directly into Tony’s eyes, Gibbs said, “I think he has a thing for you.”

Choking on his beer, Tony spewed liquid across the table and their files. “Oh, fucking shit!” he yelled before running to the kitchen for a handful of paper towels. As he was mopping up the sprayed beer, he apologized, “Sorry, Gibbs. Jethro. That’s the last thing in the world I expected to hear you say. Are you telling me Toby’s gone gay?”

With a noncommittal shrug, Gibbs replied, “Bi.”

“And you think he likes me? Really?”

Taking another swig from his beer bottle, Gibbs studied Tony for a few moments before replying. “Are you interested in him?”

“What? No! Are you trying to set us up or something? Is he banking favors hoping I’ll sleep with him? Please tell me he’s not! Why did you even tell me? Are you pulling my leg? Because if you’re not… How am I ever going to look him in the eye again?”

“Didn’t know you were into dudes.”

Hesitating momentarily, Tony stared directly into Gibbs’ eyes, attempting to read the intent. “I wouldn’t turn down the right guy. But I sure as heck wouldn’t advertise it at the office that I’m open to dating guys. And Toby is not the right guy. Definitely not.”

“I’ll tell him you’re not interested,” promised Gibbs, with a slight smile playing across his lips.

“Please! Now, let’s get some work done and never discuss Toby liking me ever again.” A minute later, Tony shook his head. “And I made a joke about catching him with his pants down.”

That set Gibbs to laughing freely. “I’ll bet he enjoyed that.”

Tony shook his head, wishing he could dislodge the thoughts of a lustful Fornell from his mind.

Somewhere between the bottles of beer and the innocent slight touch of fingers when swapping files, something changed. As if a light switch had been flipped on, Tony suddenly began looking at Gibbs differently. He’d never seriously thought of his boss as a sexual partner before, even though he’d always felt drawn to Gibbs.

While Fornell did nothing to pique Tony’s interest, Gibbs appeared to check all the appropriate boxes to suit his tastes. He was smart, confident and handsome in a rugged way that Tony liked. It was quite clear the thoughts of his boss were stirring up some desires for his cock, which suddenly felt rather snug in his pants.

On Friday night a week later, Tony worked up the nerve to ask, “You said Toby was bi. What about you?”

“What about me, what?” Gibbs asked, deeply focused on the file he was reviewing.

“Have you ever been with a guy? Or thought about being with a guy?”

In an instant, Gibbs froze. Then he peered over his reading glasses at Tony. No words came.

“I was just curious. I mean, you’re willing to tell me about Toby, so I didn’t think it was an off-limits topic or anything. And I told you that I was open to dating guys.”

Cocking his head and sporting a quirky half-grin, Gibbs asked, “What’s your real question? Do you want to know what it’s like to kiss me or something?”

“I… I don’t know. I mean… I wouldn’t push you away or anything. You’ve had four wives, so I gather you know how to kiss decently. I’m sure you have plenty of experience with… whatever it is you’re into.”

Dropping his file on the table, Gibbs pushed his chair back, allowing it to scrape softly across the floor. With both palms pressing against the tabletop, he rose to his feet and then walked over to Tony’s chair. Leaning over, he planted a solid kiss against Tony’s lips and held it for a few seconds.

Before Tony knew what to think, Gibbs had sauntered over to the refrigerator and grabbed another bottle of beer. “Want another one?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” replied Tony. A smile played across his lips. Gibbs certainly was an excellent kisser who had aroused a certain feeling of desire in him.

When Gibbs set the bottles on the table and took his seat, Tony took a long swig of beer, then looked over to Gibbs. “You kissed me,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I also got you a bottle of beer,” replied Gibbs, his eyes focused on the file he was reading.

There was a long pause before Tony suggested, “Maybe we should talk about this, Jethro.”

Finally looking up, Gibbs leaned close and replied, “Sometimes talking is overrated.” As Tony sat still and continued staring at his boss, Gibbs added, “Work now, talk later.

Chapter Text

Taking a break, Tony went into the bathroom. Staring at his reflection, he wondered what to do next. Gibbs just kissed him. On the mouth. And he was a damn good kisser. Tony’s lips still tingled with the memory of the kiss. It was certainly hot… and left him wanting more. But what more was there? And Gibbs, as usual, didn’t want to have a conversation.

“It is Friday night,” he told himself in a whisper. “If he stays, does that mean he’s interested?”

By this time, they’d each already drank a few beers and had started in on the bourbon. Still, they both had their senses together enough to plow through their files and leads. However, it was nearly midnight, and time they went to bed. It felt like an opportunity. It felt like a… possibility.

So… how would one make a pass at his boss? “He kissed me,” he reminded himself in a soft whisper. “He must be interested. Right?”

Returning to the main room, Tony glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. “It’s getting late. I’m going to go to bed.”

Gibbs turned in his chair, meeting Tony’s eyes but saying nothing.

Walking toward the table, Tony said, “Maybe one more drink, then bed.”

After refilling both bourbon glasses, Tony took a seat at the table and began organizing his files, putting them away for the night. “You’re staying overnight, right?”

“Sure. It is Friday, and I’ve been drinking.”

Nodding, Tony smiled. “Yeah, you have been. Me, too. Hey, I don’t think the spare sheets are clean. Why don’t you just… share the bed? It’s a king, so plenty of room.”

Gibbs snorted out a half-laugh. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Of course not. Wouldn’t that break rule number twelve?”

With a shrug, Gibbs took a sip of bourbon, his eyes cast downward as he considered his words. Finally looking up, he said, “Never date a co-worker. Not the same thing as sleeping with one.”

“So, you’re admitting to sleeping with co-workers in the past? Really?”

“Yeah. Maybe one or two. There was a reason for the rule,” Gibbs shared with a sly grin, his eyes focused on the tumbler in his hand.

“I can imagine. She broke your heart, didn’t she?”

Gibbs’ eyes sparkled as he smiled broadly. “Who said it was a woman?” Before Tony could come up with a response, Gibbs headed for the bathroom, leaving Tony sitting alone at the table lost in his thoughts.

“What the hell?” Tony said to himself as he watched Gibbs disappear into the bathroom and close the door behind him. Rising from the table, Tony dashed to the bedroom and spent a couple of quick minutes straightening up. Not that Gibbs was a neat freak or anything, but he didn’t care for excessive clutter any more than he cared for hearing a plethora of words being tossed about like confetti. Gibbs liked simple.

Tony wasn’t exactly simple. And he was generally pretty neat most of the time. Except for his desk. And his desk drawers. A chuckle escaped as he thought about how there was always food in his desk drawers, but no telling how long it had been there.

“Something funny?” Gibbs asked as he rounded the corner and carrying a book and his reading glasses.

“No, not at all,” said Tony, calming his features as he stood up and walked toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to brush my teeth.”

It wasn’t like being with other people generally made Tony nervous, whether male or female. But tonight, the butterflies in his stomach were definitely fluttering around like windblown leaves in autumn. Why? Because it was his boss. If things went badly, he’d still have to face Gibbs every day at work. And if they went well? Then what?

“Play it by ear,” Tony told his reflection. “Why am I so fucking nervous? Gibbs doesn’t seem nervous at all.” Then Tony began to sing softly, “He’s a man… He’s just a man. And I’ve had so many men before. In very many ways, he’s just one more.”

“Hey!” Gibbs yelled sharply. “You going to spend the night in there?”

“Almost done,” Tony called back.

Tony did a final check in the mirror before rinsing his toothbrush and returning it to its holder. “I’m ready for anything coming my way,” he assured his reflection.

When Tony entered the bedroom, Gibbs glanced up from his book. His chest was bare, causing Tony to stop in his tracks and take in the view. While he’d seen Gibbs with his shirt off a few times, it was rare. The man generally slept in a T-shirt whenever Tony had stayed overnight at his house. Tony gulped.

“Something wrong?” Gibbs asked, slipping a bookmark in place and setting the book aside on the nightstand, next to the reading lamp which he turned off. “Which side of the bed do you prefer?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m flexible,” replied Tony. “Is it okay if I turn the light off?”

With a shrug, Gibbs pulled the covers over his chest, winked and said, “Go for it.”

Tony silently cursed Gibbs. The man was obviously teasing him. And was enjoying his discomfort. Without another word, Tony flipped off the overhead light and quickly walked to the empty side of the bed, dropped his boxers, and slid in under the covers. Lying on his side, he faced away from Gibbs. “Good night.”

Snorting out a short chuckle, Gibbs said, “That’s it? Good night?”

Rolling over, there was still enough light in the room for Tony to see Gibbs’ face. “It’s been a long day. I thought you’d be tired. Did you want to read some more?”

Sidling a bit closer, Gibbs ran his toes down Tony’s bare leg. “Nope.” After a long, silent pause, he lowered his voice and whispered seductively. “What do you want?”

Taking a minute, Tony read Gibbs’ expression. If he wasn’t mistaken, there were clear signs of lust. More lyrics popped into his head and he began to sing, “Before you slip into unconsciousness, I'd like to have another kiss, Another flashing chance at bliss, Another kiss, another kiss... ”

“I’m happy to accommodate,” Gibbs said as he leaned even closer. This time, he kissed Tony more passionately, holding it longer than the previous one.

Sliding his hand down Gibbs’ torso, Tony realized his boss was completely naked. He settled his hand onto Gibbs’ hip for a minute before moving it down to cup his ass. As they pulled each other closer in an embrace, it was clear they were both turned on, the tips of their aroused cocks wet with pre-cum.

When Gibbs pulled back from Tony’s lips, he moved onto the neck, nuzzling and nipping before leaving a mark he was certain a shirt would cover over.

As Gibbs began toying with Tony’s nipples, Tony slowly began to pump his partner’s cock. He knew there was no going back. He was also certain he was exactly where he wanted to be. He’d been cooped up in this apartment without a sexual encounter for far too long.

In the morning, Tony awoke feeling sated but found himself alone in bed. The smell of strong coffee wafting into the bedroom told him that Gibbs hadn't strayed far. Getting up, Tony half-stumbled into the bathroom to pee and decided a shower was certainly in his future. So, he showered and brushed his teeth, making himself more presentable before eating breakfast.

Seated at the table was Gibbs, reading the morning paper and drinking his coffee. Tony embraced him from behind and kissed his neck. “Good morning, Jethro. Last night was… fun.” He noticed the empty, used cereal bowl pushed to the center of the table. “Do you want something hot for breakfast?”

Looking up, Gibbs smirked lasciviously, “Really? You just showered!”

“I was offering to cook up some bacon and eggs,” Tony replied with a gentle laugh.

“Sure. You do that,” Gibbs said before pausing for another sip of coffee, his eyes focused on a file of printed emails. “Ziva’s certainly quite chatty with someone, but she’s not being obvious as to what she’s saying.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too. I haven’t completely figured out their code yet. It seems that they have some sort of target in mind to acquire, but I can’t figure out exactly what it is. Could be some weapons, cash…”

“Information, or even a person.”

“It must be something big or important.”

“They’re good,” admitted Gibbs. “I can’t see where they’ve let it slip what it is or where it is.”

“Or when or how they plan to acquire it. Garcia is working on the code, too, looking for patterns, repeated words and such.”

“Has she been helpful?” Gibbs asked as he scanned through another email.

“Yeah. She’s able to use her computer magic to search multiple emails at once. But we still aren’t sure about the target. Just that there appears to be one. They’re definitely incredibly focused on something. Could be information, but I wouldn’t rule out some sort of weapons or hit. They could be planning to use explosives to destroy communication towers or some other target.”

“Going forward, I’m not going to send the team out in pairs with Ziva. Always three.”

In the kitchen, Tony started cooking breakfast and pulled out his hazelnut creamer, doing his best to doctor Gibbs’ strong coffee into something more palatable. After tasting it, he added more creamer and a dash more sugar before deciding it was tolerable. “Going out in threes or fours means one of us will always be with her.”

“You. And watch your back. I’m going to pair up with Fornell. We’ll stick close. If you see a problem, you give me a call and we’ll step in.”

“Like the Lone Ranger and Tonto swooping in to save the day.”

Their eyes met and Gibbs said, “And we’re going to hope this won’t end in a blaze of gunfire.” After a short pause, he added, “Or two chicks driving off a cliff.”

Weekends certainly seemed more fun after that. While they put in plenty of hours of work, Gibbs no longer slept on the couch. They found sharing the king-sized bed was very satisfying to them both.

It was a huge relief to Tony that there was no awkwardness. They seamlessly, easily switched between their work ethic during the day and fooling around at night. It kept them both sharp, in a good mood, and solid in their teamwork.

In October a new case was assigned to the team. Commander Walter Daniels had been murdered at a low-budget radio station. It didn’t take the team long to determine that the radio host, Adam Gator, was the intended victim, leaving it likely that the commander and the station’s engineer were innocent victims who were unfortunate to be at the station when the killer chose to strike.

Even though the Commander wasn’t the intended target, Gibbs opted to keep the team on the case, especially after Abby had tracked a possible suspect to the gated community called Royal Woods.

Once he heard the name, Gibbs found a safe place to make a private call and phoned Fornell. “Didn’t you say the FBI had tracked some possible terrorists to Royal Woods?”

“Yeah. Nothing has really come of that yet. A couple guys of Middle Eastern decent are staying with a teacher from Jordan. They’re supposedly college students, but they must be in their late twenties or early thirties. Older than your average student. They appear suspicious, but there’s nothing we can bring them in on yet. What’s up?”

“A Naval commander was shot dead at a radio station while being interviewed by Adam Gator.”

“Yeah, right. I heard about that.”

“Gator got a call the night before that Abby traced to Royal Woods, but she couldn’t get an exact fix on it yet, just the general area.”

“That’s quite a coincidence,” said Fornell.

“You know damned well I don’t believe in coincidences. During the call, Gator called them terrorists using the name MAH. I have Tony tracking down anything he can find on that group.”

“What do you need from me, Gibbs?”

“Backup. I’m going to send in Tony, Tim and Ziva. But I need backup, unseen. I’ve got gut feeling, Tobias. Something is about to go down.”

“When?” asked Fornell.

“I’m giving my team some time to research what they can today. I’m going to send Tony in to talk to the residents and record their voices tomorrow. Then Abby will work on matching Gator’s caller to Tony's recordings.”

“It’s going to take some time to collect all those voices and have Abby run those tests. What do you need backup for now?”

“I told you. Uneasy feeling in my gut.”

“Have you tried a bicarbonate?” teased Fornell.

“I’m not sure I can trust Tim and Ziva to watch Tony’s six,” Gibbs said sharply.

“At least it’s a gated community. One way in. One way out. I’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll see what the BAU is up to. If something’s about to go down with a group of terrorists, they’d be just the team I’d want on hand to help.”

“Your call,” replied Gibbs. “I’ll get back to you with the time.”

“We’ll gear up and be ready.”

The following morning began well. Gibbs sent Tony, Tim and Ziva off on their mission to interview and record the residents of Royal Woods. While Gibbs advised he’d be in MTAC with Vance all day, he checked out a sedan and met up with Fornell instead. They joined up with the BAU just outside of Royal Woods. Unbeknownst to the NCIS team, the BAU sent in some of their team members walking around Royal Woods posing as residents. Their mission was to quietly keep an eye on anything suspicious and to ensure Tony’s safety, as neither Gibbs nor Tony could trust Ziva at this point.

At first, everything was uneventful. Tony was getting a good workout by walking through the neighborhood, and in some cases, jogging after residents in hopes of catching up to them and chatting long enough to capture their voices on tape. To keep up his womanizing reputation, he made sure to flirt with the women. Until one began to seriously flirt back.

A beautiful brunette answered her door in a bikini and invited Tony to join her in the hot tub at the back of her house. When he pointed out he didn’t have a swimsuit, she smiled and said that was okay with her. All he could do then was to stammer that he was married, despite her noticing he wasn't wearing a wedding ring.

“Webbed fingers,” he said as he stumbled down her porch steps, holding his hand up as a reference. “Rings hurt my fingers. Thanks, have a nice day.”

Even though Tony was chatty by nature, the extensive talking eventually took a toll on his voice. He began coughing and asked Tim and Ziva to bring him some water. There was no response.

Gibbs and Fornell were actively monitoring the channel from a short distance way, outside the gated community, but did not want to make Tim or Ziva aware of that fact. However, their lack of response troubled Gibbs deeply.

“Why aren’t they responding? They’re his backup. Where the hell are they?” He asked sternly.

Fornell got Hotch, the BAU’s team leader, on his radio. “Do you have people in place who can close in? We need to make sure the NCIS backup team is okay. Tony sounds raspy and dehydrated. Tim and Ziva aren’t responding to his calls for water.”

A moment later, Gibbs’ cell phone rang. “Yeah, Tony, we’re listening. The BAU is going to locate Tim and Ziva and make sure they’re okay. One of the Feebs should be coming to check on you as well. Watch your damn six.”

“On it,” replied Tony as he surveyed his surroundings, turning to get a full three-sixty view. Overall, the neighborhood was relatively quiet. On some streets Tony ran into people walking or jogging, or out in their yards gardening. He found one homeowner washing his car in his driveway. Other streets, including the one he was currently on, were eerily quiet with nobody in sight.

The day was warm for October and his throat was uncomfortable. Tony really needed some water. With that in mind, he began checking nearby houses for an outside spigot he could use. He spotted on with no one around and approached it. With the water running, he cupped his hands and drank deeply. While it helped quench his thirst, it did nothing to soothe his raw throat.

Closing his eyes for a minute, as he attempted to settle his thoughts, he was surprised when something suddenly hit him. His first thought was that a tree branch must have randomly fallen, but then he felt hands grabbing him. Snapping his eyes open wide, he struggled against two men who were trying to wrestle him into the back yard. They knew what they were doing, grabbing his comms, ripping them off and stomping on the electronics to destroy them.

Seemingly out of nowhere, an athletic man and a dark-haired woman rushed to his aid. They quickly subdued the two attackers, threatening them at gunpoint if they failed to surrender. The two men were quickly forced on the ground facedown with their hands cuffed behind them, while Tony was nearby, sitting on the grass assessing his wounds.

The man smiled and spoke, “Hey Tony, I guess I have to save your ass once again. This is SSA Emily Prentiss, FBI,” he announced forcefully.

“Thanks, Morgan,” croaked Tony. “You always have my six.”

“Are you alright?” Prentiss asked, concerned.

“Voice is shot,” he replied nearly at a whisper. “Glad you showed up when you did. Never saw these guys before.”

“How do you two know each other?” she asked.

“Got our start together way back in Peoria, Illinois,” said Morgan.

“Partners with the Peoria PD,” Tony added.

“Lots of good times.”

Simultaneously, Morgan and Tony said, “Some bad,” and laughed at a seemingly unexplained joke. Morgan offered a hand to help Tony get his footing.

Standing up slowly, Tony made sure he hadn’t acquired any new injuries that would need to be treated. “And we still meet up for basketball now and then.”

“Or a jog in the park.”

A white van marked as a plumber’s vehicle pulled up and stopped beside them. An older, dark-haired, bearded man in coveralls popped out of the driver’s seat and opened the back. “SSA Rossi,” he announced for Tony’s benefit. “We’ll get you out of the subdivision,” he added. “You can ride up front, but stay down so your team doesn’t see you.”

Meanwhile, Morgan and Prentiss had settled the two cuffed men in the back of the van, with leg chains locked to the floor of the vehicle to keep them confined.

Nodding to Tony, Morgan said, “He can ride in back with us. We’ll make sure he’s safe.”

“Okay,” replied Rossi. “I thought you were walking out.”

Prentiss smiled as she fastened her seat belt in the back of the van. “You think we’d leave you on your own to transport two suspected terrorists who just attacked an NCIS agent?”

“He is a dreamer,” teased Morgan as he reached his hand out to assist Tony into the back of the vehicle and got him settled before closing the door. “We’re good, Rossi. Let’s roll.”

Within five minutes, they had left Royal Woods and met up with Gibbs and Fornell at a nearby pull-off spot.

Tony was first out of the van and met Gibbs’ eyes. “Where the hell are Tim and Ziva?”

Fornell answered, “Hotch and Reid from the BAU have them under surveillance. They’re just sitting in the car. Apparently, Ziva is reading a magazine and Tim appears to be playing a game on his phone.”

“Great! They’re supposed to be watching my six!” Tony said angrily. “Does anyone have some water? My throat is killing me.”

Gibbs handed him a bottle. “Hard to believe their comms are down. We could hear you just fine.”

Tony shook his head and took another sip of water before replying. “And now what? How do we explain I’m missing?”

An idea sparkled in Gibbs’ eyes. He glanced over to Morgan and Prentiss, nodding toward their captives. “Did those guys have car keys on them?”

“Yeah, a Lexus,” said Morgan as he jingled the keys.

“Find their car. Have your team make sure Tim and Ziva can’t follow them. We’ll drive that car out fast. Can you guys muster up a fake ambulance and tow truck in the next hour?”

“What are you thinking?” Rossi asked.

“You know we’re investigating Ziva as possibly having ties to terrorists in the area, right?”

Rossi nodded, his eyes locked on Gibbs’. “But you haven’t been able to link her to anyone specific yet, correct?”

“If she’s connected with these guys and we can convince her they lost control of the car and died in a crash, it should rattle her. It should cause her to communicate with someone about it.”

“What about Agent DiNozzo?” asked Morgan.

Fornell smiled, “Let’s tell Tim and Ziva the terrorists abducted Tony and he was in the trunk when the car crashed. Tell them he’s dead, too. It would give him more time to work on your side project if everyone thinks he’s dead, as long as SecNav approves it.”

“We’ll have to work fast,” said Gibbs.

Rossi was already on the phone setting everything up. Gibbs called SecNav to ensure it was okay to implement the ruse.

“SecNav approved it,” Gibbs reported. “Tony, you’re going to lie low at the apartment. No going out. I’ll bring you anything you need.”

Nodding his understanding, Tony reached for his throat. “Maybe some cough syrup and chamomile tea for starters. Are we going to let Ducky and Abby in on this? You know how emotional Abby’s going to get if we don’t.”

“Need to know,” said Gibbs. “I’ll take the heat.”

It was decided that Rossi and Morgan would do their best to impersonate the suspects. Using the men’s identification, they were able to locate the house and the car. On entering the house, they deduced the teacher who owned the home must be away at work. As they searched through the rooms, they located some outer clothing they could wear to disguise themselves.

“We’ll fly by them so fast they won’t get a good look anyway,” Rossi said.

Morgan got on their comm and learned from Hotch that Tim and Ziva hadn’t moved. “Those two are heartless. They’re supposed to be Agent DiNozzo’s backup? They haven’t done a thing in hours. They have no clue where he is or if he's okay.”

“I have a feeling it’s going to catch up with them,” Rossi responded, knowingly.

It took the group an hour to get everything they needed. A fake tow truck and ambulance were brought into place and they even brought a wrecked car that was at least a similar size and color to the Lexus.

Hotch and Reid were in one SUV, watching the NCIS agents from the rear. The plan was they’d follow after the agents when they left and keep them moving past the accident too fast to really see much of anything.

When everything was set, Gibbs sped up to the subdivision gate and used a code from Abby to gain entrance. Although he knew exactly where Tim and Ziva were, thanks to the FBI, he drove through the subdivision at top speed pretending to search for them.

Eventually, he pulled to a screeching halt beside Tim and Ziva’s sedan, immediately grabbing their attention. Gibbs approached them, fuming. “Where the hell is DiNozzo?” he yelled as he slammed his hand on the roof of their sedan.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Tim fumbled and dropped his cell phone. Twisting frantically, he picked it up and stammered, “He’s out interviewing the residents, Boss.”

Throwing his hands up, Gibbs shouted as he glanced around, “WHERE?”

Closing her magazine, Ziva set it aside and casually flipped the comms back on. “He is nearby.”

“You had the comms off?” yelled Gibbs. “You’re his fucking backup! Get your asses out of the car and find him. NOW!”

As the pair were scrambling out of the car the Lexus raced by.

Ziva’s eyebrows furrowed. She frowned as her eyes followed the speeding vehicle. While she said nothing, it was clear the car had caught her interest.

Gibbs slammed his hand against the sedan’s roof again. “Find Tony. It’s your job to watch his six. Watching his six means you know exactly where he is at all times and you keep him safe.”

Tim was already glancing wildly around the neighborhood. Then he looked at Gibbs. “We were recording. All we have to do is listen to the last few minutes of the tape. He was giving the addresses of each house as he approached them.”

“Fine,” said Gibbs. “Listen.”

Tim got back into the driver’s seat and backed up the recording. They could only hear static. “I’ll go back further.” The result was the same.

Gibbs was furious. “You’re his backup and you weren’t even listening? What the hell happened? Where the hell is my agent?”

“I… I don’t know, Boss,” Tim said nervously.

Ziva was still focused in the direction where the Lexus had disappeared. “He must be around here somewhere. It is a gated community. Even Tony could not possibly get himself into any trouble.”

Minutes later, they heard the ambulance siren. Tim finally found a spot on the tape where they could hear Tony talking to residents. His ears were burning red, knowing he’d majorly screwed up by allowing Ziva to turn off the comms. He’d known better, but she insisted Tony couldn’t possibly get into any trouble in a gated community. It took him a few more minutes to find the last words Tony had spoken. He was asking for water. He was asking for help. Tim winced as he heard some sort of scuffle begin then there was only static.

“I don’t know what happened, Boss,” Tim said, his voice betraying his panic.

“What is that siren about?” asked Ziva.

“That’s not your concern. Your concern is locating Tony,” Gibbs said sternly.

“What if he left the subdivision and is in trouble?”

Gibbs pointed at them both and said, “You two stay here and find Tony. I’ll go see what’s going on out there.”

He left for twenty minutes before returning. In the meantime, Tim and Ziva got back into their sedan and began driving through the subdivision arguing about where Tony could possibly be and what he had been doing the last two hours since the tape changed to static.

And finally, Gibbs returned appearing devastated. He pulled up, driver’s side to driver’s side, facing Tim. “The Lexus that raced out of here, the driver lost control and it went off the road. Tony was in the trunk. He’s dead. They’re all dead. Both of you, get your asses back to NCIS immediately and start researching the driver of the Lexus.”

“How can that be?” Tim stammered. “What happened?”

“You two happened. You failed to watch his six, and we are going to address that. He died on your watch.” When Tim and Ziva only stared back at Gibbs in disbelief, he yelled, “GO! I’ll meet you back at the office. No stops, no distractions.”

Tim looked visibly shaken but Ziva appeared suspiciously unconvinced.

The FBI smuggled Tony back to the apartment. Once there, he set to work. As a security precaution, Tony had already removed the battery from his cell phone out at Royal Woods to ensure no one could trace his location from it. Gibbs promised to bring him a new burner phone that evening. Until then, he had to rely on the laptop for communication.

Garcia sent him copies of the IDs from taken the two suspected terrorists they had in custody. While the IDs were fake, Tony immediately recognized one of the men as Adam Eschel, a Mossad officer who was often in contact with Ziva. He shook his head realizing that he’d failed to recognize the man at Royal Woods when he was attacked, or in the FBI’s van while they were being transported out of the subdivision.

However, he had been dehydrated and injured. It was dark in the back of the van and he’d been sitting in a spot that wasn’t conducive to seeing the other men’s faces. He’d also been in the van for less than ten minutes before they’d rendezvoused with Gibbs and Fornell. And, he’d grown a beard despite being clean-shaven in the ID’s photo.

“He’s Mossad,” Tony said to himself. “And if he’s Mossad, the other guy probably is, too. What the hell were they up to?”

Gibbs and Fornell both stopped by the apartment to make sure Tony was okay. Gibbs had also summoned Ducky and had him give Tony an exam. After a full examination, Ducky explained that Tony had strained his vocal chords.

“It could be linked to certain pesticides or other lawn chemicals in that subdivision. On a positive note, I believe all you need to do is to rest your voice for a few days. Since you’re alone here at the apartment, that will be perfect to ensure your silence and swift recovery.”

When Tony attempted to speak, Ducky motioned for him to save his voice. “We’ll make certain you are well stocked up with delicious soups, honey and chamomile tea. Give it a few days, my dear lad, and all shall be well once again, I promise you.”

Tony mouthed the words, ‘Thank you.’

Ducky smiled and nodded before heading toward the door. “I am glad that the rumors of your demise are once again found to be in error,” he said.

“Keep that to yourself, Duck,” warned Gibbs.

“Of course.”

Fornell left after dinner. Gibbs spent the night.

Chapter Text

Gibbs felt no guilt in telling Ziva and Tim that Tony had been killed. At least Tim showed true remorse. Ziva still appeared suspicious. She asked questions about who had identified the body, and said she wanted to view the remains herself to assist with the investigation. Gibbs shut that down immediately by putting both Ziva and Tim on suspension for gross dereliction of duty.

Abby was another story. With tears welling in her eyes, she’d hugged Bert the hippo tightly and asked for DNA so she could run tests. “It’s not him until the DNA says it’s him. Remember when his Mustang blew up? That wasn’t him. And neither is this. It’s not. I know it’s not.”

Holding her close, Gibbs gave her a long hug and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “You’re probably right. I’ll work on getting that DNA for you.”

In the end, Ducky was given permission to share with Jimmy that Tony was alive, with a stern warning that he better not let it slip to anyone else, especially Ziva and Tim. Gibbs wanted to let them think about their failure to protect their partner.

Gibbs spent the next weekend at the apartment, with he and Tony comparing notes on Adam Eschel and the latest correspondence Ziva had been sending.

Shaking his head, Gibbs said, “There’s no doubt. She’s not being obvious, but there’s clearly something going on that she’s communicating about.”

Still keeping his voice soft, Tony added, “Whatever it is, we’re going to find it. The BAU has Garcia combing through the suspects’ cell phones and laptops.”

“McGee and Ziva are on leave pending an IA investigation,” offered Gibbs.

Pain shone in Tony’s eyes. “They left me hanging out there alone like an injured gazelle stuck in the mud and in plain sight of a pack of hungry lions.”

“Pride,” Gibbs corrected.

“Pride?”

“It’s a pride of lions, not a pack.”

“Whatever!” Tony’s tone betrayed his disgust. “They left me in danger with no backup.”

“Which is why they’ve been benched,” said Gibbs. “Fornell and I had your back. The whole BAU team, too. We all had your six.”

“Yeah, but Ziva and Tim didn’t know that. They left me hanging!”

Taking a minute from reading his files, Gibbs walked over and gave Tony a hug. “Better?”

While Gibbs spent the weekends at the apartment with Tony, he didn’t go every night during the week. In fact, he was working very long hours and generally just went to his own house during the workweek. With Ziva and Tim on suspension, Gibbs was dealing with his own reports and interviews, and using random unassigned agents to assist him with any cases that were dropped on his desk. He did his best to stay focused on the job despite missing having Tony to depend on at the office.

Despite being suspended, Ziva tried to get back onto the Navy Yard at least half a dozen times and was turned away each time. The security guards made sure to alert Gibbs about her attempts. Breaking into her desk, he tried to find anything she might be coming back for. He had Abby copy Ziva’s hard drive and send it over to Garcia at the FBI. When she asked why, he simply told her not to ask that question. Just send the drive as requested. Then he kissed her on the cheek and walked away.

His days were filled with interviews, reports and coffee. Copious amounts of dark, rich coffee. And thoughts of Tony.

When his cell rang one day, he glanced down and noticed it was Fornell. “What’s up, Tobias?”

There was a distinct trace of panic edging Fornell’s voice. It was obvious he was in a car moving at a good clip. “The apartment building’s alarm went off. The exterior door was breached. We couldn’t reach Tony, so we’re headed that way. I thought you’d want to know.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Gibbs said curtly as he was already on his feet, grabbing his badge and weapon, hoping this had nothing to do with Tony. Grabbing his badge and weapon, he also attempted to contact Tony, but the calls went straight to voicemail. He sprinted out of the office to the sedan and wasted no time getting to the apartment. Fornell and Rossi from the BAU team beat him there by mere seconds.

“What the hell happened?” Gibbs asked as he rushed in weapon drawn, looking around.

The door had obviously been kicked in and the apartment had been ransacked. There was no sign of Tony.

“Garcia was monitoring the alarm and let us know. I’m sorry Gibbs. We got here as soon as we could,” said Fornell. “I called you as we were leaving the office.”

“Where the hell is Tony?”

“We’re going to find him,” promised Rossi. Just then his phone rang and he picked it up, walking a few feet away. Another call came in a couple of minutes later. As he disconnected the second call he looked Gibbs in the eyes, his expression emotionless. “The rest of my team went to check on Agent Timothy McGee and Officer Ziva David. Morgan and Reid have reported that Tim is at his apartment and is safe. We’re assigning extra security to the area. Hotch and Prentiss went to check on Ziva. She’s also missing and her place has also been broken into and tossed.”

“Shit!” exclaimed Gibbs as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Fornell glanced between Rossi and Gibbs. “So, the question is, were they both abducted or was Ziva involved in Tony’s disappearance?”

“He wouldn’t have gone with her willingly. No way,” Gibbs insisted. “We’ve been investigating her for months and have found some pretty incriminating stuff. We’re were getting close to something big, and waiting for that. They were targeting something.”

Nodding, Fornell said, “Or someone. This is probably that something big you were chasing.”

“We didn’t want to tip our hand too soon, but maybe it would have stopped this.” Gibbs exhaled and shook his head. “We have to find them. What if their big thing was abducting Tony? Damn it!”

“We’ll be investigating both disappearances,” said Rossi. “We have all hands on deck for this one. Garcia is working overtime checking for anything online that could be connected.”

“You’re not shutting me out. Tony’s my agent. I’m part of the case.”

After a long pause, Rossi nodded slowly. “Then, let’s get to work.”

Vance agreed to allow Gibbs to work directly with the FBI. While Hotch wasn’t convinced that they needed him, they were down a person on their team since JJ had been recently reassigned and a replacement had not yet been put in place. Fornell also remained close to the investigation, mostly by promising to keep Gibbs in line.

Fornell and Gibbs had just arrived at a BAU briefing, coffee in hand, when Hotch announced that his team was going to go talk with someone from the CIA about a possible lead.

“They’ve located hostage videos online that are supposedly offering American federal agents for sale to the highest bidder. They want you to identify whether the people in the tapes are indeed Agent DiNozzo and Officer David,” said Hotch.

Gibbs and Fornell didn’t even have a chance to take a seat before the group was on the move. The BAU team split into two groups, each taking an SUV. Gibbs was antsy as he followed behind in his sedan, Fornell at his side. The SUVs stayed close to each other during the trip. They made good time, but it would never be fast enough for Gibbs. Not when he was chasing the tail of a string that would lead him to Tony.

They found themselves in a meeting that included a CIA agent, several members of a SEAL team and their support staff. Gibbs stiffened. Tony and Ziva were obviously thought to have been moved out of the country. There was no other reason to explain the people attending this meeting.

Quick introductions were made around the group as they all took their seats. The videos shone were short and choppy. Gibbs was able to recognize Tony in one video and Ziva in the other. Both had smears of dirt on them, messed up hair and their wrists bound behind their backs as they were half-dragged or shoved by armed men with their faces hidden.

A woman from the CIA introduced herself as Mandy Ellis, and provided some information, saying their contacts had traced a path from DC through South America to Afghanistan. “They were smuggled out.”

“Are they together?” Gibbs asked.

“We don’t think so, but they were both moved to Afghanistan. We’ve traced Agent DiNozzo to a small, isolated building. It will be difficult to approach without being seen, which is why we’ve brought in SEAL Team Bravo. We suspect Ziva may still be in a city, Jalalabad or possibly Kabul.”

“I’m going, too,” declared Gibbs.

“Look, my men know what they’re doing,” said the SEAL team’s leader, a tall, muscular man with scruffy facial hair. “Dragging along anyone else will only cause problems. We need to stay focused on our mission, not babysitting another federal agent.”

Pushing his chair back, Gibbs rose, defiantly insisting, “He’s my guy, my responsibility. I’m going.”

“There isn’t time to bring you up to speed,” Bravo’s team leader shot back heatedly.

His supervisor stepped forward and suggested, “How about Agent Gibbs can come along as part of the support team?” Turning to Gibbs, he introduced himself as Commander Blackburn. “Master Chief Hayes has a point, Gibbs. There’s no time to get you up to speed as an operator.”

Rossi glanced between the two men. “As Agent DiNozzo is a federal officer, this is an FBI case, gentlemen. We’ll be sending our own agents along as well.”

Blackburn shook his head. “Too many cooks in the kitchen…”

“SSA Morgan and myself will be accompanying your team,” said Rossi authoritatively, leaving little room for argument.

Morgan added, “If Gibbs goes into the field with your SEAL team, I am going too. Don’t tell me it’s valid for Gibbs to go and not me. We’ll keep an eye on each other so Bravo Team doesn’t have to worry about either of us.”

“You’re not qualified,” Blackburn pointed out.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “You do have an obstacle course or something your SEALs have to qualify on, correct?”

Blackburn nodded. “Of course.”

“Gibbs and I will run it. If we pass, we go along as part of the op. If we fail, we’ll stay back with the support team.”

Bravo’s team leader Hayes shook his head. “Agent Gibbs, your age alone disqualifies you.”

“What does my age have to do with anything? If I can do the job, there’s no reason I can’t go. Zero. Let’s go run your course.”

Blackburn said, “We don’t have time to get you up to speed. Whatever time you’ll need to practice, it’s time we’re wasting here instead of getting to Tony.”

“You’re right,” replied Gibbs hastily. “We are wasting time. Let’s get on your course, now. We don’t need practice time. Either we’re fit enough or we aren’t. Tell us what we need to do and if we pass, we go as operators, if we don’t pass, we’ll ride along as support team.”

Gibbs was already heading through the door when Blackburn whispered to Hayes, “Those agents will never pass our test. Especially without any practice runs. They haven’t trained and aren’t up to speed.”

Getting up, Hayes pushed his chair in, and followed after Gibbs. “We still don’t have time for this.”

Checking his watch, Blackburn said, “We have time while they’re loading the gear onto the plane. But just barely. They may not have time to shower before we catch the flight but we can get one run in. I’ll set a time limit.”

Hayes huffed out a long sigh. “I’d rather be getting my team up to speed on the op.”

“You’ll have time on the flight, Master Chief. Plus, it might be amusing to watch the feds attempt to run the course,” Blackburn countered.

Hayes wasn’t laughing. His thoughts were on the mission objective and keeping his team safe.

Part of the group went to the obstacle course, including every member of Bravo Team. They all gathered at the start of the course, which was also the endpoint. Blackburn explained the course obstacles to Gibbs and Morgan and asked if they wanted to warm up at all. Morgan did some stretches and fired a few practice rounds from his own service weapon, which he put aside before they began the course.

Gibbs kept checking his watch and reminding everyone that Tony’s life depended on them getting on their way as soon as possible. Blackburn explained again that the plane had to be loaded, gassed up, and pass the checklists before they left, so they had some time to spare. It didn’t make Gibbs any less anxious.

As they were about to start the race, Morgan stepped close to Gibbs, and asked, “Can you shoot? Long targets?”

With a smile, Gibbs replied, “Yeah, can you?”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Gibbs. I’m in prime shape.”

“Let’s do this!”

Blackburn started them off. Rossi, Hotch and Fornell all watched alongside Bravo Team. There were a few comments tossed about. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Morgan was faster running on flat surfaces, but Gibbs was holding his own, not far behind the younger man.

The pair fought their way through several difficult obstacles and finally came to the first of two shooting ranges. This one was for handguns, which they both grabbed and fired with ease. The next one was for long-distance shots to be fired while lying on one’s stomach with sniper rifles. Again, both men took deep breaths, focused and pulled the trigger several times.

The final obstacle was a large wall with a rope. Morgan reached it first and climbed to the top with ease, then he waited for Gibbs, just in case he might need a hand. To his surprise, Gibbs climbed the rope like a pro, and asked, “What the hell are you waiting for?” before dropping over the other side and taking off running again.

Morgan smiled and dropped to the ground. He swiftly caught up to Gibbs, then matched his pace right up to the end of the course.

It was very obvious that the SEAL team and Blackburn were all completely shocked that the two agents made it around the course successfully and within the allotted time.

They had other Navy personnel stationed around the course to verify there was no cheating. Gibbs and Morgan were still catching their breath as a Jeep pulled up. The driver turned off the ignition as the passenger jumped out and handed four target sheets to Blackburn. Each sheet had either Gibbs’ or Morgan’s name written at the bottom.

Everyone’s eyes were on Gibbs’ longshot target. There was a cluster in the center of the head. Perfect shots.

“I can do the same with the heart if you prefer,” said Gibbs. “It’s just less likely the head will be protected.”

“The head’s a smaller target though,” said Ray Perry, who was also known as Bravo Three. “That’s some damn fine shooting, Agent Gibbs.”

Gibbs swallowed some water from a bottle he’d picked up and nodded. “Used to do it for a living. Marine sniper.”

Eyebrows rose, then everyone turned to Morgan who admitted, “Before the FBI, I was with the Chicago PD and SWAT team.”

“Now, let’s stop wasting time and bring Tony home,” said Gibbs as he headed for the parking lot.

“How much time do you need to pack?” called Blackburn.

“Got a go-bag in my car,” he replied.

“Me, too,” confirmed Morgan.

“And I will make that three,” added Rossi. “We’ll go grab our gear and meet you at the plane. And for the record, I also served as a Marine. You don’t need to worry about any of us. We’re ready for the op. Let’s go bring our agents home safely.”

“We don’t have a confirmed location for Ziva David,” said Blackburn. “Just a few unsubstantiated leads.”

“Maybe one of your contacts will have a firm lead by the time we land.” Twisting his wrist, Rossi checked his watch. “We’ll have a few hours during the flight to put a plan together. I can assure you that Gibbs and Morgan will have your Bravo Team’s back.”

Gibbs was asleep before the plane even took off. He’d told Rossi and Morgan to wake him up for any briefings. When Gibbs woke up a few hours into the flight, they all had a meal, then a briefing regarding the op.

They officially met all the members of Bravo Team, including Jason Hayes, the team leader, also known as Bravo One. He said he’d been a SEAL for eight years and had been the team leader for three. Bravo Two was Kent Cavello, who went by KC. He spoke several Middle Eastern languages and dialects including Pashto and Dari. Ray Perry was Bravo Three, an intelligent man who asked good questions. Nate Massey was Bravo Four, who sounded like more of a gung-ho risk-taker than others on his team. Bravo Five was Danny Holman, a dog handler. At his side was a Dutch Shepard named Zeus. The last member of Bravo Team was their rookie, Sonny Quinn, a proud, talkative Texan also known as Bravo Six.

Gibbs immediately gravitated to the dog, who appeared to enjoy the attention. “Shepard?”

Holman gave the dog a pat. “Zeus is a Dutch Shepard. Great dog. Best partner I’ve ever had.”

“Never had a dog as part of a sniper team.”

Blackburn stepped over to Gibbs and Morgan, holding three files he was reviewing which included information on Gibbs, Morgan and Rossi. “I guess we should have reviewed your backgrounds before agreeing to the obstacle course. You both have really amazing and impeccable records. We’re honored to have you joining the team for the mission.” Meeting their eyes, he added, “Bravo One is in charge. You will obey his orders. If you can’t do that, you can’t go on the op.”

They both assured him they would play nice.

Turning to Hayes, Blackburn handed him the files. “Agent Gibbs was a Gunnery Sargeant in the Marines, and the best shot of his sniper unit. Our research shows that SSA Morgan got his start in Peoria, Illinois, working alongside Anthony DiNozzo with the Peoria PD, before moving up to Chicago PD and the SWAT team.”

“I’m not denying it,” said Morgan.

Gibbs looked at him with his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize you knew Tony.”

“We keep in touch. I’m surprised he never mentioned it, as talkative as he can be.”

“Maybe he did. He might have mentioned your name in passing.”

“I had his six in Peoria. We were partners for a few months. And there’s nothing I won’t do to make sure we bring him home safely.”

“Good to know.”

At that, Hayes brought everyone close to a mockup of the building their intel had suggested was where Tony was being held. Gibbs was surprised at the detail considering it had to have been put together in mere minutes. Ray then explained they had a team that had a full warehouse of parts and buildings of every shape and size. They could pretty quickly put things together to match any series of satellite images. It was also revealed that the team had access to top-of-the-line 3D printers in case they couldn’t find what they needed in their massive stockpile.

“Just like military-grade Legos,” he said. “At least this only a couple small buildings rather than a whole city block or more.”

The group worked together to analyze the best ways to approach. It was thought there may be four to six terrorists at the location as well.

“Is there any possibility that Ziva David could be there, too?” Morgan asked.

At that point, Mandy Ellis of the CIA approached the team. “It’s not likely. We’ve had no intel on that. We’re not sure that the same people have them both at this point. It appears they were smuggled out of the US separately.”

“But they were taken by the same people,” said Gibbs. “I don’t believe in coincidences, and it’s hard to believe two different groups attacked my agents and took them hostage on the same day.”

“We do believe they were taken by the same group,” she confirmed. “It appears your other agent,” pausing she checked her file for a name, “Timothy McGee was also targeted, but they were delayed a few minutes by an accident blocking the road and the FBI made it to his location before he was abducted.”

“We didn’t see anything suspicious,” said Morgan. “We did put extra security in the area before we left.”

“We tracked the activity with cameras and satellites,” said Mandy. “The indication is that there was another group in that area and we assume their target was Agent McGee.”

“Why are they targeting my team?” Gibbs asked.

“It’s hard to tell. Maybe they wanted federal agents as hostages. Perhaps they’re hoping for a ransom, intelligence or both. It could be related to a case you’re assigned to. We’re still reviewing the possibilities.”

“The FBI was tracking a possible terrorist group in the Royal Woods subdivision. They turned out to be Mossad agents using fake IDs.”

“We held them as long as we could, but we did have to release them eventually,” said Morgan. “The Israeli diplomats got a little hot and bothered when we couldn’t produce the remains of their agents, and they traced the car and found out that it hadn’t really crashed.”

Shifting his position, Gibbs turned to face Morgan. “Was that before or after Tony and Ziva were taken?”

“Before.”

“Do you think Mossad was involved with the abductions?” Gibbs asked.

“We believe it was a splinter group of Hamas,” said Mandy.

“Ziva’s brother was in Hamas. Ari Haswari.”

Mandy scribbled down the name. “I’ll have our team look into any connection.”

“They said he was a Mossad mole in Hamas, but you can’t be too sure these days.”

“We always check everything twice,” Mandy promised.

Throughout the flight, Gibbs was fidgety about the passing time, posing the question, “What if they move him before we touch down?”

“That’s always a possibility,” said Blackburn matter-of-factly.

“We have satellite surveillance in the area,” said Mandy. “It’s a remote location. If any of the vehicles leave the area, we should be able to detect it, and track any moves they make.”

Gibbs spent his time sleeping or pacing. When he was awake, he drank copious amounts of coffee and spent much of his time chatting with Morgan and Rossi. Although, Master Chief Hayes did pull Gibbs and Morgan aside at one point to question them about what benefits they could provide to his team.

“I know you both can shoot. And Gibbs, being a sniper, I take it you’re a stealthy SOB.”

“I’ve been called worse,” replied Gibbs as he chowed down on an MRE.

“Have either of you ever parachuted?”

“Not in a long time,” Gibbs conceded.

Hayes turned around, looking at his team. “Hey, Sonny! Get your Texas ass over here.” When the rookie, who had been sleeping, arrived while wiping the sleep from his eyes, Hayes continued. “Give these guys the basics of jumping. We’ll have them jump as tandems since they haven’t trained.”

“Got it, Boss,” confirmed Sonny. “Who are they jumping with?”

Again Hayes scanned his team. “Why don’t you take Morgan and put Gibbs with Ray.”

“They going to have call signs?”

Hayes nodded. “For security purposes, yeah. We’ll need call signs.” Turning to Gibbs and Morgan, he explained, “We’ll be in hostile territory. If our transmissions are picked up or recorded, we don’t want any terrorists getting wind of our names, ranks or anything else.” Pointing to Gibbs, he said, “You’ll be Sierra One.” Turning to Morgan, he added, “And you’ll be Sierra Two.”

With that settled, Sonny waved Ray over and began explaining to the pair of federal agents how tandem jumping would work. He described the changes in the lights that signaled when they were in the correct drop zone. “When the light turns green, we have about thirty seconds before we jump. Ray and I will tap your shoulders three times like this,” he said as he demonstrated on Morgan. “And then you lean forward and let gravity do its thing.”

Morgan turned and nodded to Zeus. “The dog jumps, too?”

Sonny laughed. “Oh yes. He’s a pro. Don’t let Danny fool you. The dog is really in charge.”

When the time came, Sonny and Ray helped Gibbs and Morgan gear up for the parachute jump.

Chapter Text

With Sonny and Ray controlling the parachutes, Morgan and Gibbs didn’t have much to do on the way down. Before they jumped, Ray told Gibbs that night jumping was more dangerous, but less frightening than a day jump.

“The good news is, if heights bother you, there’s a long way to go before you can even see the ground at night. The bad news is, you really have to pay attention to your altimeter because if you open the chute too late…”

“You go splat. Got it,” Gibbs finished for him.

The jump went smoothly, including the team’s military-grade ATV vehicles. The SEAL team members all knew their jobs and very quickly and efficiently got the vehicles ready to travel, and hid all the chutes amongst the native brush. There was very little verbal communication as the team swiftly worked together as one.

The team had lost sight of their plane long before they reached the ground. Ray explained to Gibbs that they had monitored communication, drones and satellites to help guide them. “When the mission is complete, we say the code word and are given a pickup point. Our support team is top-notch,” he promised.

For the first part of the journey, they were able to drive on a dirt road, with minimal lighting. The going was too slow for Gibbs, but he was warned more than once that too much light could draw enemy fire. And going too fast would likely result in an accident that could cause the loss of one or more of their all-terrain vehicles and possibly cause injuries to the team.

After a few hours of travel, Hayes signaled for them to stop. He, KC and Ray huddled close together to verify their location on the map, and to plot their course to the isolated building that was their target.

“Stash the vehicles,” Hayes ordered. “We’re hiking in from here.”

Gibbs grumbled a bit when Hayes put him in the back of the group. Only the rookie Sonny was behind Morgan and Gibbs. Hayes assured them that Sonny was a fine shot and was qualified to watch their asses.

There was also a bit of grumbling on Hayes’ side about his team not being trained to babysit G-men out in the field. When Gibbs’ ire arose, it was Ray and KC who got between the two men and reminded them they were all on the same mission and that was to rescue Tony and see if they could find any information on where Ziva was being held.

The rest of the night was spent silently marching across the rugged terrain in single file. When the sun began rising, the team stopped for a quick meal, and a bit of rest. They took turns with four men on watch while the other four ate or napped. Gibbs was still restless but kept his mouth shut. Hayes had already reminded him of who was in charge of the mission and that Gibbs’ place was wherever Hayes chose to put him.

To ease the tension, Gibbs was put on the same rotation as Danny so he could spend some time with the dog, Zeus. Danny allowed Gibbs to feed the dog and give him some treats.

Sonny was also with their group and was as chatty as Tony although with a Texas accent and spin on things. Hearing him prattling on was still a small comfort to Gibbs, as his thoughts remained focused on bringing Tony safely home.

Each group had ninety minutes on watch, and ninety minutes to eat and nap. After that, they were all back on their feet, in formation, and marching on their way, weapons in their hands. No matter where a man was in the line, they were all scanning the surrounding terrain, searching for any movement or potential threat.

Gibbs eased up on his complaints a bit once he was convinced that Hayes certainly knew what he was doing. The man was focused on the mission. The choices he made and routes he took were the same ones Gibbs would have opted for had he been in charge. While he would have liked to be closer to the front of the line, and able to hear what Bravo One and Bravo Two were talking about, he followed orders and kept his place near the rear of their formation.

It was late in the afternoon when they closed in on the small building. It was still a great distance away and they had to use binoculars to see any details at all. Gibbs was agitated that Hayes wanted to settle back and have his team observe until dark, while Gibbs was ready to charge in immediately, gun in hand.

“That’s a good way to get the hostage killed,” Hayes warned. “Look, they view him as a valuable asset. They’re going to keep him alive. They’re not going to kill him in the next hour or two.”

“You don’t know that," Gibbs pointed out. "If Tony says the wrong thing and sets them off, who knows what could happen? These people holding him aren’t the most stable. And Tony’s been known to push an issue that he shouldn’t.”

“I know what I’m doing. We observe, we plan, and then we will execute that plan. We’ll bring him home alive. I promise you that.”

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs gritted his teeth and held his tongue. He would have to trust that Hayes was correct and Tony was not in any immediate danger. But his gut told him otherwise.

“We’ll go in after dark,” confirmed Hayes. “There is a lot of ground to cover. There’s no way we can get close enough during the daylight hours without them noticing.”

Scanning over the terrain, Gibbs knew that was correct. The building was in a bowl, with a lot of open ground between them, and mostly small brush as their only cover. He conceded that going in after dark was the intelligent thing to do.

So, they all waited. Hayes urged the men to get some rest. They again alternated between each group of four, with half of them on watch, while the other half could eat and rest.

The hours drifted by slowly and uneventfully for the most part. It wasn’t anything Gibbs couldn’t handle. His sniper training had well prepared him to sit still for hours, focusing on his potential target, waiting for one simple command. And so, he sat, he watched and he kept his mouth shut. For the most part, he remained awake and refused to take meal breaks. Although, he did keep his water bottle close at hand. It was difficult for him to eat or sleep knowing Tony was in imminent danger, and so close. Just barely out of reach.

The team observed the building but saw very little activity. A couple of times, they observed a pair of men going to a well on the property to retrieve water. While their voices couldn’t be heard, their movements indicated there was constant friction and arguments between the two of them.

There were also almost always two armed men standing watch over the encampment from outside the building. They were normally several feet apart but seemed to occasionally gesture to each other. As darkness fell, they went inside, and a light came on.

“Must be dinner time,” said Ray.

At that point, Hayes gathered everyone around. He decided Morgan and Gibbs would act as snipers at a distance, while the SEAL team went into the building. Gibbs was displeased with the arrangement, as he wanted to be the first friendly face Tony saw, but it wasn’t up to him. And Hayes held his ground, stating that his team worked as a single unit. Adding in new people could cause issues with the execution of their mission. On top of that, Gibbs was a trained sniper and probably the best long-distance shooter of them all. Morgan was also an excellent long-distance shot.

At least Hayes was agreeable to allow Gibbs and Morgan to remain together and before his team moved out, he decided to leave Ray in charge of the other two. The trio scouted out the best spot to watch over the building. Gibbs grumbled slightly that it would be better to set up at two locations to have a full view of the building from both sides, but Ray sternly reminded him that Hayes was in charge and had ordered them to stick together.

They all got onto their bellies, with their rifles propped up, peering through their night-vision scopes, ready to fire. And they watched as the other five men and Zues the dog slowly traversed the rugged landscape. The ground team surrounded the building but entered at the opposite side from where their snipers were situated. Hayes’ thought was, where his men entered from one side, the terrorists would either stand and fight or would flee from the other side. The ground team would handle anyone who remained to fight and the sniper team could pick off anyone who ran.

It seemed to take a painstakingly long time to get everyone into position, but once everything was set, and Hayes gave the order, the team quickly busted into the building. A few shots were fired. The sniper team kept a lookout for squirters and picked off three men who took off running.

Once Hayes gave the all-clear signal, the sniper team wasted no time in packing up their weapons and gear and hot-footing it to the building. When they arrived, they found one terrorist dead in the building, one wounded and a young man who was uninjured, but very shaken.

Gibbs looked around wildly, “Where’s Tony?”

Shaking his head, Hayes said, “He’s not here.”

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs groaned, “They were wrong?” The blood seemed to drain from his face. “They said it was confirmed, how could they be wrong? How could they be wrong,” he said repeated, but more quietly the second time.

KC was interrogating the injured man while Massey was doctoring his wounds. “He was here,” KC said. “I’m trying to find out what happened.”

Still holding onto his sniper rifle, Gibbs eyed the young man who appeared very frightened. There was something in his eyes. Gibbs grabbed him by the shoulder of his shirt and dragged him outside, out of earshot of the wounded man.

“Please do not shoot me. Peace to America! Peace to America!” the young man said with a thick accent. “Please do not shoot me.”

Gibbs flipped out a photo of Tony. “Your friend inside can’t hear you.”

“He is not my friend.”

“The rest of them are dead. What can you tell me about this man?” Gibbs asked, pointing at the picture he held.

“Tony. He said his name is Tony.”

A small wave of relief washed over Gibbs’ countenance and he released a deep sigh. “Yes, Tony. What happened to him? Is he okay? Is he alive?”

Morgan and Ray had come outside with Gibbs. Hayes joined them when he realized the young man spoke English and didn’t need KC to translate his words.

“He is okay. I helped him. I helped him escape.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Gibbs.

“I am not a believer. It’s my family. We are poor. They forced me to come with my uncle to earn money. There are no other jobs. I want to go to America, to college. I speak good English. I work hard to learn. Tony was nice to me. And I helped him.”

“How did he get away?” pressed Gibbs.

“I saved small bits of my own food to give to Tony. I made a food pack for him and filled a pouch of water for him. I made him a map of where to go. One night, I unlocked the window to his room and distracted the man watching him.”

“Why did you help him? Letting him go could have gotten you killed.”

The young man’s eyes dropped to the ground. He was silent for a minute, then looked up to Gibbs and spoke softly, “It was the right thing to do.”

“You need to show us your map. Where did you tell him to go?”

“I can draw you a map,” the young man offered. “If you take me to America. To college.”

Hayes shook his head.

Gibbs looked at the young man. “If you lead us to Tony, and we find him alive, I’ll clear it for you to go back with us. Deal?”

Hayes grabbed his elbow, “Gibbs, you can’t promise him that.”

“The hell I can’t. If he leads me to Tony, I have plenty of strings to pull. Saving my agent is worth a flight to the States and a college education.”

“They’re going to want to vet him,” said Ray.

“Then vet away,” replied Gibbs. “For now, I want a map and a path to follow. One that takes me to Tony.”

They learned the young man’s name was Haseeb. They found no paper in the building, so Gibbs asked where he got the map he gave to Tony.

“I drew it. My father taught me this gift of mapping.”

“Drew it on what?”

“An old shirt, a rag.”

Approaching the dead body of one of the terrorists, Gibbs ripped off a piece of his light-colored shirt and handed it to Haseeb. “Draw.”

Haseeb pulled a piece of charcoal from the fireplace and shaped an end into a point. They watched as he began drawing a map, depicting where there were roads, towns and mountainous terrain.

Gibbs watched him closely and occasionally asked questions. Haseeb noted where he told Tony to go, and where he could find food, help and water, as well as dangerous routes that were best avoided. The whole team crowded around the roughly made wooden table near the kitchen as they placed Haseeb’s hand-drawn map next to Hayes’ tactical map of the area. They were all surprised at how accurate Haseeb’s map was and how well it matched their own which was based on satellite images.

“We need to get on his trail,” said Gibbs. “The sooner the better.”

Hayes organized the team and got them ready to move. While they were all technically responsible for watching Haseeb, Hayes put the bulk of the responsibility on Gibbs’ shoulders. “You want to bring him, you watch him.”

They planned to leave the injured man behind in the building as it wasn’t practical to drag him along. Massey noted that he’d lost a lot of blood anyway and despite the defiant act he put forth, it was unlikely he’d survive on his own. The wounded man was unconscious and fading fast.

The team disabled the three vehicles found at the encampment and also gathered up all of the food they could locate, packing away some of it and dumping the rest. There was a small field near the building. If the man survived, he’d have to work hard to gather enough food to sustain himself. But that wasn’t the team’s problem. They were ready to roll. Massey checked on the injured man one more time before they left and shook his head. There was no longer a detectable pulse.

Hayes split the team into two groups. KC, Massey and Sonny were sent to retrieve the vehicles, while everyone else hit the trail. Gibbs and Haseeb were put in the lead, with Hayes and Danny close behind, leaving Morgan and Ray to watch the rear. Zeus was with Danny and eager to do some tracking.

It was well into the next day that they all met up together at an agreed rendezvous point. They located an abandoned building where they could hide their vehicles and the team again took turns with half sleeping while the other half stood watch.

Morgan made it his personal project to ensure that Gibbs ate something. “Tony needs you to be at the top of your game, and you know that. You need to eat something… for Tony.”

Gibbs would always grudgingly eat when prodded. He knew Morgan was right. It wouldn’t do them any good if he passed out from the lack of food.

It was slow going when they moved the team. They continued using the vehicles sparingly and continued to follow Tony’s trail on foot. There was no telling how far he got, so if they jumped too far ahead, they could completely miss him. At least those walking could take a nearly straight line while the vehicles stuck to the winding dirt roads that added miles to the journey.

Over the next three days, they managed to get themselves into a couple of quick battles with armed men but were able to forge ahead when the shooting died down.

With Haseeb’s assistance, they were able to find two of his friends who had seen Tony and had helped him on his journey. They provided some intelligence. It also assisted them in determining Tony’s timeline and estimating his travel speed. It was obvious he had a lot of downtime. They asked if he’d appeared injured and the answer was always ‘not seriously’. The more likely reason for his slow progress was that he was being careful as he was picking his way through unfriendly territories where he wasn’t certain who he could trust, or how close the terrorists were trailing behind him.

As it turned out, the terrorists had no clue how Tony had escaped or in which direction he had gone. While they had a network loosely blanketing the area, so far, Tony as well as his rescuers, had evaded their detection for the most part.

At the end of the third day, they found themselves near the Pakistan border. Gibbs suspected that if Tony had made it across the border, he would have contacted someone and they would have heard about it. They checked in with Blackburn, who stated they had not received any communication from Tony.

At that point, they slowed down, checking and rechecking their trails. That night Zeus picked up on something at a distance. Everyone who was still awake grabbed their night-vision goggles.

“There’s someone out there,” said Ray. “Look, over there. One man.”

Gibbs didn’t have to look for very long. “That’s him. That’s Tony,” he shared excitedly.

“Are you sure?” asked Hayes.

“One hundred percent. He moves like Tony. I’m confident it’s him.”

Hayes reminded everyone they were still in enemy territory and to remain quiet and alert. They spread out a bit and moved toward Tony as an organized group. He was taking his time, moving slowly. Gibbs wanted to fire a round to get Tony’s attention, but Hayes thought that was a bad idea. They created a moving net as they spread out. Their intention was, that even if Tony was spooked and took off, one of them could catch up to him.

Zeus didn’t need night-vision goggles to follow Tony’s movements. If anyone temporarily lost sight of him, all they needed to do was to look at the dog, who was laser-focused on Tony as they closed in.

When they got fairly close, it was obvious that they did spook Tony, who began trying to move away quickly, but quietly. So, Gibbs took a chance, calling out, “Skippy, stop! Skippy, it’s me!” He deliberately used a nickname that Tony would recognize as they were still in enemy territory.

With Zeus’ help, Gibbs picked his way up a hillside to find Tony lying on the ground, hidden in a patch of brush and breathing heavily. “Damn, Skippy, it’s really good to see you!”

“Thank God it’s you!” exclaimed Tony. “I was hoping I wasn’t hallucinating hearing your voice, Boss. I was hoping it was really you.”

“I’m here. Are you hurt? Are you okay?” Gibbs asked, his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Been shot,” he said, holding out his arm, which was poorly bandaged with a ripped piece of cloth. A reddish-brown stain of blood was clearly evident.

Massey closed in with the first aid kit. Sonny held a light while Massey treated Tony’s wound, noting it was just a graze.

Hayes assessed Tony’s condition and decided to send KC, Ray and Sonny to bring the vehicles back to them. “Now that we found him, we should be able to get to the Pakistan border fairly quickly.”

Gibbs and Morgan checked over Tony’s wounds as well. Aside from sustaining the graze wound to his upper arm, he’d suffered a myriad of scrapes and bruises. Once Tony’s arm had been properly bandaged and he’d caught his breath, he asked if they had any food to spare. He admitted he hadn’t eaten much for days, and had been rationing his water.

“He is dehydrated,” confirmed Massey.

It was a relief to everyone once the vehicles arrived. They were all eager to leave Afghanistan behind.

Hayes was in communication with Blackburn who had determined a safe path to the border and confirmed they’d be allowed to pass through. Their pick-up team would meet them a few miles inside Pakistan for the extraction.

Tony had fallen asleep shortly after he was settled into the vehicle. Gibbs held Tony’s head in his lap and just watched him breathe. It felt good to hold Tony in his arms once again. He was glad for the darkness that hid the few tears of happiness that slipped down his cheeks.

Now that he had Tony back, he never wanted to let him go again.

Chapter Text

Once they were across the border, the sun began to rise. Gibbs wiped the tear stains from his face. His movements disturbed Tony, who woke up and asked for more water, and then something to eat.

“We’re almost to the pick-up spot,” Gibbs promised.

After taking care of his immediate needs, Tony went back to sleep. Gibbs stroked his hair and smiled as he focused on watching Tony’s face, paying attention to his steady breathing.

Ignoring everything else around him, Gibbs kept his eyes on Tony. He knew there was a story to be heard, but for now, all he wanted to do was to ensure that Tony was safe.

They allowed Tony to sleep until they reached the C-17 cargo plane. When they arrived on the tarmac, Gibbs gently shook him awake, and assisted him onto the plane. Once Tony was settled, Gibbs searched for Commander Blackburn and CIA Agent Mandy Ellis.

Gibbs stood firm that they should allow Haseeb passage back to the United States with them, saying his life would be in danger if he was left behind. He stated his case to Mandy, telling her about how Haseeb had aided Tony’s escape. With a quick nod, she agreed to interview the young man.

While she warned further vetting would be required, she allowed Haseeb to board the aircraft, escorting him to a seat toward the front of the plane where he was left under the watchful eyes of the security guards. He could barely hold back his tears of joy as he thanked her and Gibbs profusely.

While the rest of the team prepared for their regular ops debriefing, Tony pulled Gibbs aside. “I have a lead on Ziva.”

“They’re still trying to track her down,” Gibbs replied. “Did you see her after you were abducted?”

Tony bared his teeth and hissed, “She was part of it!”

Grabbing Tony’s arm, Gibbs led him to where the SEAL team was getting ready to debrief the op. Commander Blackburn was clearly in charge, but Mandy Ellis of the CIA was also there, as well as Rossi, Morgan and other support personnel.

“We were just about to send for you, Agent Gibbs,” said Mandy.

Gibbs half-pushed Tony toward the CIA agent. “We need to listen to what Tony has to say first. He has news concerning Ziva.”

“Do you know where she’s being held?” Mandy asked.

“She was involved in my abduction,” said Tony.

“Are you certain?”

“Oh yeah. Definitely! They set a trap and I walked right into it.” Nodding in Gibbs’ direction, he continued, “We borrowed an apartment, a safe house, from the FBI. The idea was to keep it off the books that we were investigating Ziva. Only three people from NCIS knew: myself, Gibbs and Director Vance. The information was restricted at the FBI and SecNav was looped in for his approval. Ziva shouldn’t have known about that place.”

“How long were you there?” Mandy questioned, paying close attention.

“Months. I was careful. I took a different route every day. Then we faked my death at the Royal Woods subdivision during an op, hoping that would shake some fruit loose from the mole tree.”

Stepping forward, Gibbs added, “We suspended Agent McGee and Officer David because they failed to watch Tony’s six.”

“They were my backup and turned off the comms. They left me with no support.”

“We told them he was abducted and had died in a car crash along with two suspects. I saw the doubt in Ziva’s eyes. She didn’t believe it. We knew she would dig deeper.”

Picking the story back up, Tony continued, “The FBI had a couple of potential terrorists under surveillance at Royal Woods. They turned out to be undercover Mossad officers with fake IDs.”

“It also turned out that they were rogue, working as a terrorist organization like Ziva’s brother, Ari Haswari.”

“They baited a trap and I fell for it, hook line and sinker.” Pausing for a moment, Tony sipped a cup of hot tea Mandy had prepared for him. “I heard a car alarm going off in the parking garage and I peeked out the window. It was all they needed to pinpoint the exact apartment where I was staying. They busted in, three men and Ziva. I was pinned down and given a shot to knock me out. The next thing I knew, I was in some cargo box on a boat on the ocean.”

“Did you talk to her?” asked Gibbs. “What did she say?”

“She was speaking Hebrew in the apartment. I never saw her after that.”

“But there’s a hostage tape of her, also. Could her team have turned on her and sold her out, too?” Ray questioned.

Shaking his head, Tony said, “She seemed to be the leader of the group at my apartment. My guess is that it’s a ruse so she wouldn’t be suspected in my abduction.”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed. “What was the point?”

“Of them taking me? Intel, money, whatever. They asked a lot of questions. Smacked me around a bit. Caught a few things on camera. I switched hands more than once, being held by different people. I was never sure if I was being sold, or if they were from the same group. They weren’t happy when I kept insisting there was nothing I could tell them. One of the men sounded very pissed and said Ziva’s name. I don’t have a clue what that was about.”

Blackburn and Mandy were both busy scribbling down notes, even though the meeting was being recorded. “How did you get away?” Blackburn questioned.

“I kept trying to talk to the guards. I tried French and Italian, as well as English. I got the impression a few of them understood at least a little English, but never spoke it. Then the youngest one, Haseeb, he spoke a little bit of Italian and some English, too. We chatted, mostly in Italian and only in whispers. He said it didn’t matter which language we used, if he was caught speaking with me, we could both be killed. He was good to me, sneaking extra food and water to me during his shift. I’m not sure I would have survived without his help.”

“And he drew you a map,” said Gibbs. “Why did you trust it?”

A small smile graced Tony’s lips as his eyes momentarily dropped to the table, before looking up to meet Gibbs’. “I was held for days, usually tied up. Unable to move. I was beaten. Sometimes I was given food and water, but other times I wasn’t. Honestly, Boss, I didn’t think I was going to make it out of there. So, when he nodded to the window and unlocked it, I understood. He used some charcoal and an old piece of cloth to make me a map.” Reaching into his pocket, Tony withdrew a folded piece of linen and unrolled it. It was dirty, smeared and stained with a few dark spots of dried blood.

Hayes pulled out the map Haseeb had made for him and compared them. They were similar, but on Tony’s copy, there were safe houses marked.

“Haseeb told me he had friends who would help me. I wasn’t sure they would,” confessed Tony. “But I was in bad shape when I got to the first one. I was trying to gather food from their field. Anything I could find, like grapes, and digging up carrots, and radishes. When they saw me, they hid me in their barn. They fed me, gave me water, and let me rest.”

“I’m glad they took care of you,” said Gibbs.

“The man told me they often smuggle out women, sometimes with children. They stay because they feel the work is important and the people they smuggle are in imminent danger.”

“Do you know where Ziva is now?” Mandy asked, pointedly.

“I gather you collected the cell phones from the terrorists who were holding me?”

Hayes nodded.

“Our support team is reviewing them now,” Mandy told him.

“Okay, well, I think they were in touch with her. They weren’t happy that I wasn’t spilling my guts about anything. I think she’s in Jalalabad.”

Mandy nodded. “I have contacts who reported possible sightings in Kabul and Jalalabad. Nothing we could confirm.”

Hayes pulled out another map they had. “We’ve spent time there.” Turning to Blackburn, he added, “We’re already so close. We might as well check it out.”

“I’ll have to see if we can extend our stay,” said Blackburn.

“Have you sent in the report about Tony being found?”

“Not yet. I was going to prepare the report after this briefing. What are you thinking, Master Chief?”

“Tony wasn’t at the building our intel led us to. We report we’re still tracking him. Maybe his trail happens to lead us to Jalalabad and we have to follow him there.”

Everyone on Bravo Team was all smiles and ready to push into another mission. Blackburn glanced over to Mandy, then to Rossi and Gibbs.

“If there’s any chance that she might be there, we might as well find out,” said Gibbs. “Wasn’t that part of the plan? To find more information on Ziva?”

Mandy nodded and clicked her pen. “I have a lot of contacts there. I’ll tell them she’s been spotted in the area, but we need to narrow down her location. If I get any leads, we can put the drone in play.”

“Ziva would be mighty surprised if she found out I escaped, then I showed up in Jalalabad,” Tony suggested with a grin.

“We’re not putting you out there as bait,” snapped Gibbs.

Standing up, Ray said, “We’ll watch him. I know a little Pashto, and KC is fluent. We can keep Tony safe.”

“If she’s there, we should try to catch her,” said Tony. “Boss, you know if she gets back to Israel, they’ll block any attempt to extradite her. Her father’s the head of Mossad. He’ll protect her.”

“And you think we can find her, capture her and smuggle her out of Afghanistan?” Gibbs questioned.

“I certainly think we should try.”

Hayes stood up, his eyes thoughtful, and his arms crossed. “We’ve smuggled people out before.”

“Let’s get a plan set up,” said Blackburn. “As you said, locating Ziva was part of the mission as well.”

Rubbing the scruff on his chin, Tony asked for a razor, but Hayes suggested that if he were still on the run, he certainly wouldn’t have a razor in hand, or the time to shave. “Scruff is in style in this part of the world,” he said with a hearty pat to Tony’s shoulder.

“You should keep wearing your dirty rags, too,” suggested Ray. “We’ll have to remove your bandages and dirty up your wounds as well. We’ll make you look the part. We’re very good at what we do. No worries.”

Mandy had her contacts blanketing Jalalabad and Kabul, and had the support team send in a drone to capture images of any potential sightings of Ziva. It took four days, with Gibbs watching the footage over her shoulder before he pointed at the screen and said, “Got her. Right there!”

Everyone on the team was ready for the op. The plan was to keep Ziva under drone surveillance and have Tony casually appear in a location she was visiting. Ray and KC, dressed as locals, were assigned to watch Tony’s six. The rest of the team, including the dog, Zeus, plus Morgan and Gibbs, waited in what the SEALs liked to call their Scooby van. It was a dirty grey vehicle that they deliberately left extra dusty. As Hayes said, if it was clean, it would have stood out like the DeLorean from Back to the Future.

The drone followed Ziva into a marketplace in Jalalabad. She wasn’t alone. A man about her age was with her. An image was shown to Gibbs, but he was unable to identify the man. “It’s nobody I recognize,” he admitted.

Mandy had the support team busily checking image databases, but so far, they were coming up empty as well. The call was made to hold off confronting Ziva while they were attempting to identify her companion.

Several minutes later, a possible match finally popped up. “There isn’t much on him,” Mandy relayed, “but his brother is high up in Al Qaeda.”

“Maybe we should grab him, too,” suggested Master Chief Hayes. “I’ll bet he knows a thing or two.”

Hayes was driving the van while Tony, Ray and KC were on foot. The trio were keeping their distance for the moment, not wanting Ziva to spot them before they were prepared to confront her. They’d discussed how they should approach her.

When they were ready to put their plan in motion, Tony stepped out alone. Ray and KC were nearby keeping an eye on him, but not too close. They intended to make it appear that Tony was on his own. He added a limp to his step that had Gibbs rolling his eyes and calling his SIC a drama queen. At least Sonny laughed.

KC taught Tony a few words in Pashto, such as ‘money’, ‘hungry’ and ‘please’. Tony began limping his way through the marketplace begging for change. Some of the men physically shoved him aside, and he made a big show of falling to the ground, acting weary and helpless. And that caught Ziva’s attention, just as it was supposed to.

Rushing to Tony’s side, she grabbed his wrist tightly. “What are you doing here?”

Tony’s eyes were initially closed, but he slowly blinked them open. “Ziva? I was being held captive but escaped. I’ve been on the run for days.” He made a weak attempt to break her grasp, but she held his wrist firmly as she began prattling to her companion in Pashto. “What the hell are you doing? How did you get here? We need to get help. We need to find a safe place, like an embassy or something.”

Ziva and her associate were still debating something in Pashto when Hayes floored the van and came to a sudden stop beside the trio. Ray and KC rushed forward, one grabbing Ziva, and the other taking custody of her companion. They smoothly wrestled them into the van with the assistance of Tony, Danny, Sonny, Massey, Morgan and Gibbs. They managed to quickly manhandle the pair into submission.

The abduction only took a few seconds. The vehicle's door was swiftly closed, and Hayes accelerated the van, taking off sharply and leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. The team had Ziva and her companion on the floor of the van, in handcuffs, and were holding them down so they couldn’t move.

Ziva spat out a long string of foul language in Pashto, directly pointed at Tony. It didn’t bother him as he didn’t understand a word of it. He met her eyes and grinned, knowing it would piss her off even more. She may have caught him off guard in the apartment, but it felt really good knowing they’d lured her into their own trap here in Afghanistan.

Turning to Gibbs, Tony sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly to settle his nerves. Then he asked if he could finally have a razor to shave off his scruff now that they’d caught their quarry.

Gibbs wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulder and pulled him close. “You can have all the razors you want. I’m damn proud of you, Skippy.”

The team and their support personnel worked flawlessly and were proud to escort their targets onto their C-17 cargo plane, despite Ziva’s protests.

“You should have gone to Tel Aviv,” Tony said to her. “No way your daddy would have sent you back to America, but now you don’t have a choice.”

“You cannot hold me,” she spat out.

“I’m pretty sure we can,” he shot back. “Abducting a federal agent is a crime.”

“You have abducted me and this is not your jurisdiction.”

With an easy laugh, Tony said, “You stole me first. But I escaped. I don’t think you’re going to be that lucky.”

“How did you get away?” she asked, still fighting the metal cuffs on her wrists.

“Made a friend. Did a bit of scavenging and a lot of walking. But I made it. And now I’m free. Too bad your days of freedom are long gone.”

“We will see about that,” she snapped back in a cutting tone.

Gibbs had enough of listening to their banter, so he grabbed Tony by the arm and led him toward the back of the plane and handed him a razor. “Get cleaned up. Then you need to rest. That’s an order.”

Ray gave up his hammock so Tony could get some sleep. The onboard doctor redressed Tony’s wounds, and hooked up an IV, stating that Tony was still fairly dehydrated. Gibbs took a nearby seat against the wall of the cargo plane. He spent most of the flight back watching Tony sleeping.

Morgan sat beside him for several hours. They chatted a bit, but also spent time in silence. The next time meals were handed out, Gibbs didn’t want anyone waking up Tony, saying he’d wake up on his own when he was hungry enough. For now, Gibbs felt Tony needed a lot of rest, so his body could start mending itself.

Their mission was deemed a huge success as they’d returned to the States with both Tony and Ziva, plus a bonus terrorist to question. The FBI and NCIS conceded custody of the terrorist to the CIA. The FBI took custody of Ziva, planning to indict her for her part in the abduction and transport of a federal agent. NCIS agreed to turn over all of Tony and Gibbs’ research, showing what information Ziva had been gathering and transmitting. Haseeb was given a job as a translator but was told he'd have to remain in custody until his vetting process had been completed. In the meantime, he was allowed a few books to study as he prepared for college courses.

Tony could barely keep his eyes open as they got into Morgan’s vehicle. “I could sleep for a week,” he muttered.

Gibbs wasn’t going to argue with him as he insisted, “After we get you checked out, you’re coming home with me.”

“I am?” Tony asked as he yawned. “Sorry, I still feel so exhausted, mentally and physically.”

“I’m sure you didn’t get much restful sleep and your body still needs to heal. Your brain, too. And yes, my house. My bed. And under my care. After you see a doctor.”

Tony smiled and mumbled that sleep sounded good to him before closing his eyes again.

Before going to Gibbs’ house, Morgan drove them to the hospital where Tony was thoroughly checked out and subjected to a battery of tests. While they kept him there for three days of observation, Gibbs insisted there be an armed agent guarding Tony’s room at all times.

During those three days, Gibbs made it clear to the FBI that he had questions for Ziva that he fully intended to ask her. They acquiesced as long as Gibbs was willing to interrogate her at the secure holding facility where she was under guard.

Her demeanor reminded Gibbs of a caged tiger, ready to attack. The facility assured him they were taking extra precautions with her, and there was zero chance of her escaping. He wasn’t so sure.

They sat across from each other at a table. At first, she looked away from him and appeared bored with life. There was a restrained power she seemed to possess, ready to spring into action at the moment any opportunity appeared to her.

Hotch, Morgan and Rossi were in the observation room, and two guards were at the door.

Gibbs had brought along a file and opened it. After scanning it a bit, he looked over at Ziva, then slammed his fist against the table to get her attention. She jumped, only slightly. “Why?” he shouted in her direction.

“I know you are not that stupid. It was an assignment. My father wanted to know everything that NCIS knew. And of course, I remained in contact with him.”

“You killed your own brother,” Gibbs pointed out.

“To save your life!” she shouted back. “He was a rogue agent. Mossad caught wind that he may attempt to kill our father.”

“So, your father wanted him out of the way. And for you to earn my trust.”

A short snort of laughter escaped her. “Yes, as you say, two birds, one stick.”

“Stone. Two birds, one stone.”

“Whatever it is.”

“Why Tony?”

Rolling her eyes, she settled back into her chair, seemingly bored again. “Why not Tony? He knows things that can be useful.”

“You turned off the comms so your team could abduct him.”

Her eyes met his, and she nodded slowly. “McGee is trusting and not difficult to manipulate. He never saw it coming.”

“Why now?”

The corners of her lips turned upward. “We both know that you know the answer to that.”

“Because you found out he was investigating you. How? Who’s the mole?”

“I am not certain you would believe me. And it was not really her fault.”

“Abby!” said Gibbs. “She told you I had her send all the information from your computer over to the FBI.”

“We already had Tony’s apartment under surveillance and realized he stopped staying there. So, we tracked where he went. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You found the building, but not the specific apartment.”

Nodding, she said, “We knew what we knew.” After a short pause, she smiled again. “If it makes you feel any better, my father really thought it would be more beneficial to capture you. I convinced him that was not likely to happen. I always thought you had some secret escape route out of your basement. And once you caught wind of our team watching you, I knew we would not get a second chance.”

“No, you won’t get a second chance. That, I can promise you.”

“Besides,” she confided, “Tony was easier to capture. He is weaker than you, not as smart.”

“He was smart enough to know where to find you in Afghanistan and how to capture you. There’s a reason DiNozzo is my second in command. He deserves it.”

Leaning back in her chair, Ziva rolled her eyes to express her boredom.

Once Gibbs got the answers he was looking for, he went back to the hospital to check on Tony. As promised, when Tony was released, Gibbs took him back to his house and made him comfortable.

Since Vance had called Gibbs back to work, they still requested armed agents stand guard just in case there was another attempt to abduct Tony.

Director Vance made it clear to Eli David that NCIS would not tolerate another kidnapping of any agent or any other interference. They’d worked together for years, understood each other, but Eli had broken any trust there was between them. He tried to deny it, but Vance was firm that Ziva had disclosed her father had full knowledge of their operation. “Stay out of my house or we’re going to have some very serious problems, Eli,” Vance said firmly before hanging up.

It was a relief to everyone that there was no indication that any other attempts were made after that.

Long before he was approved to go back to work, Tony was feeling stir-crazy. He spent some time working on Gibbs’ boat. Some of his efforts were rewarded with kisses and others with furrowed brows and corrective repairs from Gibbs.

Tony also worked a bit in the garden. While he didn’t have a yard at his apartment, Martin, one of the agents assigned to protect him, enjoyed gardening as a hobby. While he wouldn’t lift a finger to help, he never minded providing his expert opinion… whether Tony wanted it or not.

Other than that, Tony enjoyed going out for a jog. In that case, it was Agent George Caldwell who would accompany him. When Tony wanted to run in the evenings, Derek Morgan from the FBI would go with him, often with Gibbs trailing behind them on his ten-speed bicycle, his eyes ever watchful for any sign of potential danger.

One day, they invited Morgan to stick around for a fireplace-cooked steak and potato dinner, which he accepted. Tony finally asked Gibbs if anyone else at NCIS had been helping Ziva in her gathering of intel.

“She was using Director Shepard,” admitted Gibbs. “Although, I’m not really surprised. Apparently, they became quite close and Ziva would go over to Jen’s place to drink and would ask questions. She got more answers than Jen should have allowed.”

“I meant more recently. Like McGee,” Tony pushed as he reached for his bottle of beer.

“McGee used poor judgment. He admitted he knew they shouldn’t turn off the comms in Royal Woods and that he should have refused and turned them back on. After a month’s suspension without pay, he was moved over to Cyber Crimes for the time being.”

“He hasn’t reached out,” Tony said a bit wistfully.

“He was ordered not to,” replied Gibbs. “Director Vance suggested Tim not make contact with you anytime in the foreseeable future as he’s technically on probation and is supposed to keep a low profile.”

“Interesting.”

“Abby leaked some information to Ziva…”

The shock in Tony’s voice was palpable. “Abby?”

“Not on purpose. We never told her we were investigating Ziva. And no one told her when Ziva was suspended. Ziva called her on her cell phone and asked to meet up for drinks. She threw a few crumbs out there to find out what Abby knew about or worked on regarding Royal Woods.”

Hanging his head, Tony nodded slowly. “And Abby told her about the cell phones and laptops we recovered from the suspects and sent over to the FBI.”

“Amongst other things.”

Clearing his throat to break the tension, Morgan asked, “When will you be going back to work, Tony?”

His brilliant smile lit up his face. “Monday morning! Gibbs hired a probie named Bishop from the NSA, and… who’s the other one, Boss?”

“Brody from the Great Lakes office. It’s just a temporary assignment for her. She has good instincts and adapts to new situations quickly. After a few months, we’ll either reinstate McGee or find someone else for that spot.”

Before they were done eating, Fornell showed up and Gibbs wiped down the dining room table and set it up for a few rounds of poker. “No more shoptalk tonight. It’s time to put your money on the line.”

Three hours later, Gibbs and Tony said good night to Fornell and Morgan. Gibbs always seemed to win big and then allow his friends to win at least some portion of their money back. He once shared with Tony that if no one else ever won a pot at his house, he wouldn’t have anyone to play cards with.

“Are we working on the boat tonight?” Tony asked after they’d cleaned up from dinner and the poker game, and had seen their friends out the door.

Gibbs smiled, then hung up the dish towel he’d used to dry the dishes. Sidling up close to Tony, he grabbed him around the waist and kissed him. “It really sucked not being able to do that when you were under protective watch.”

“That was your idea. I have a gun. I would have been fine.”

“You had a gun in the apartment when you were taken hostage,” Gibbs reminded him.

“Yeah, but it was in the other room. I’ve been carrying it with me when I’m alone here. And I’m still around.”

Embracing Tony tightly, Gibbs kissed him again, more passionately this time, and held it for a while before letting him go to catch his breath. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“Are you kicking me out?”

Shaking his head, Gibbs said, “No. I thought maybe you could move in here permanently. There’s plenty of room. And that way, I can watch your six around the clock.”

“What about my yabba yabba?” Tony asked.

“Bring it along. I’m sure there’s enough room here for that, too, even as much of it as there is.”

“It’s been fun evening, but I’m exhausted,” Tony said with a yawn. “One more question. Are you ready to join me in bed?”

They were both all smiles as they climbed the stairs to the upper floor. Their partnership had blossomed and gelled since Tony had been rescued. And one thing Gibbs was sure of is that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Tony at his side.

~~~ The End ~~~
07/23/2024

© 2024 by Jacie