Gibbs sighed tiredly as he closed the door behind him.  The silence and stillness of Tony's apartment was disquieting.  Whether at Gibbs' house or Tony's place, usually the younger man beat him home, which meant there was always some sort of noise.  The stereo, the TV, or the sounds of Tony puttering around the house doing God only knew what, but always something, some sign of life filled the rooms.

Gibbs left his shoes on the rack near the door, and hung his jacket on one of the hooks nearby.  He padded into the living room.  He eyed the remote on the coffee table suspiciously.  Tony had shown him how to use it, had told him there was no way to really screw it up, but Gibbs wasn't entirely convinced.  Technology hated him, and he hated it.    

But the silence felt so strange in Tony's apartment, forcing Gibbs to reluctantly pick up the remote and hesitantly key the power button. He smiled in relief when the large screen TV responded, soft sounds of music quietly drowning out the unnatural silence.  His eyebrows rose when the menu bar indicated it was set for big band and swing.  Just when he thought he'd come to terms with Tony's eclectic taste in music, he ended up being surprised all over again.  

Gibbs glanced at his watch.  It would probably be another hour before Tony made it home.  He'd volunteered to drop off Paula Cassidy.  Tony would probably stay for a bit to make sure she was settled in okay.

Gibbs grimaced.  Tony had a brief relationship with Paula, and they seemed to have parted on good terms, neither expecting anything more permanent.  But Gibbs didn't like reminders that Tony had been with other people.  And he really didn't like the way Paula had gotten to Tony.

He could easily picture her leaning over Tony's desk.  She'd smiled and flashed her cleavage at him, making sure to let him know she thought her new boyfriend was better than Tony.  The new guy was a lawyer, good looking and wealthy with all the rich boy toys meant to impress.  Tony was right when he told her money wasn't everything.  The problem was Paula nicely re-enforced Tony's insecure belief that he wasn't anything, that he would never be enough just as himself.  

Damn his mother, Gibbs thought savagely.  And damn Paula for knowing what buttons to push, for knowing how to hurt Tony without even really trying.  Hell, she probably hadn't even realized just how easy it was to do.  She probably thought he'd just brush it off as the joke she meant it to be.

It made Gibbs want to slap her.  He settled for cuffing Tony upside the head.  Tony should have known better than to listen to her.  But Gibbs knew a lifetime of habit was tough to overcome.  

'Don't let her get to you', he'd ordered Tony, reminding him that Paula's opinion didn't matter.  That no one else's did.  He was enough for Gibbs.  More than enough.  Tony just needed to be reminded of that from time to time.  

Gibbs wandered into the kitchen.  He knew Tony kept a bottle of bourbon above the sink for him.  He could use a stiff drink.  

He filled a small tumbler and tossed it back, relishing in the burn.  It helped to wash away the foul taste of having to deal with the likes of Kyle Boone.  Gibbs shuddered.  The man was…Gibbs wasn't even sure what to label him.  Evil didn't seem quite right.  He wasn't some demon from hell; although, he probably seemed like that to the women he tortured and killed.  No the man was really some twisted psychopath, sadistic and unusually cruel, but still decidedly human.  

And that fact was what made him all that more frightening.  He didn't have fangs or horns or cloven feet.  Anyone on the street could be him.  

Gibbs cursed softly.  The miserable fucker had made more of himself, crafting a protégé to stave off his own execution.  At least Paula had managed to put that sick puppy down.  And the state would take care of Boone.

Gibbs took a deep breath and held it.  He really didn't want to think about what would have happened if they'd lost Paula.  Abby had said what they all were thinking.  Losing another agent, another team member, even one only temporarily assigned, would have been devastating.  

Paula had held her own though.  She was smart, tough and capable.  Gibbs was proud of her for that, even if he still didn't like her much.  He was glad the Director hadn't suggested her as a replacement for Kate.  She was a good agent, but he didn't want any of Tony's old flings hanging around.  It was hard enough dealing with his own old fling.  

Gibbs cursed quietly and took another slow deep breath.  The only good thing about this case was it had given him something to vent his anger on.  He had something else to think about other than Kate's body lying on that damn roof.  It gave him something else to deal with other than the Director.  It provided someone else to be mean to instead of the people around him who didn't deserve his hostility or need to bear the brunt of his anger.
 
He poured another shot and then capped the bottle.  A drink or two was fine, but getting drunk was not going to help.  Gibbs knew that.

He took a sip before returning the bottle to its usual place.  He sighed, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.  Tony would be home soon.  That would help more than the bourbon had.  

He headed back into the living room.  Tony's couch was a very comfortable piece of furniture, and Gibbs found slouching into it as natural as breathing.  If he was sure he could figure out the stupid remote he'd flip the TV to the news.  He was still wary of Tony's entertainment setup, so Gibbs settled back and put his feet on the coffee table, content to just relax and enjoy the music.

He frowned when his cellphone rang.  He glanced at the caller id, frown deepening to a scowl when he didn't recognize the number. It had better not be some salesman or another idiot calling about a volkswagon bug.  

"Gibbs," he kept his tone curt and unwelcoming.

"Gibbs…it's Corporal Yost."

"Ernie?"  Gibbs blinked.  He hadn't heard from the older man since they'd cleared up his mistaken belief he'd killed his best friend on Iwo Jima.  He did a quick mentally tally…and came up with nearly eighteen months having passed since that case.  

"Yeah, it's me." A quiet chuckle sounded clearly through the phone.  "Good to know you remember me."

"How could I forget you?"  Gibbs laughed softly.  It wasn't every day he helped clear a Congressional Medal of Honor winner of a crime had hadn't committed.  "What can I do for you, Ernie?"

"Well, I just wanted to make sure the kid was okay.  Figured if anyone would know it would be you."  A soft deprecating sigh carried easily through the line.  "Took me forever to find that card with your cellphone number or I'd have tracked you down yesterday."

Gibbs grip on his phone tightened wondering if this was another episode of post traumatic stress. He was hesitant when he asked, "The kid?"  

"DiNozzo," Ernie clarified.  "You know…tall, lanky Italian.  Works for you."  There was a small pause.  "He does still work for you, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, Ernie, Tony is still on my team."

Ernie huffed out a breath in obvious relief. "Then you'd know if he was okay or not."

"Why wouldn't he be?"  Gibbs tried not to snarl, worry and fear suddenly showing up in equal measure.

"Well, he usually stops by once a week.  Or calls me.  When I didn't hear from him I got a little worried. S'why I called you."  

Gibbs' eyes widened in surprise; he hadn't known Tony stayed in touch with Ernie.  Tony never said anything about it.  But then Gibbs hadn't asked, so maybe Tony just assumed he already knew.  After working with each other for four years, there was a lot Tony assumed Gibbs knew about him.   

"He said something about being out of town for a funeral last week."  There was a clink of ice against glass and Gibbs knew Ernie was sipping a drink; probably scotch.  "I liked her, Gibbs."  The fondness in his tone was obvious.  "She was a pretty girl…a real sweetheart.  Kind enough to dance with an old man.  Reminded me of my Dorothy. "

It was a mark of how tired Gibbs was that it took him a moment to figure out who Ernie was talking about.  "Tony told you about Kate?"

"Didn't tell me much."  There was a soft snort.  "Just said she got killed in the line of duty and that you got the miserable prick who'd killed her.  Good job, by the way."  The last was delivered as casual praise, honest and easily given; Gibbs was reminded of his father for a moment.

"He let me know where the funeral was so I could send flowers if I wanted to. Sent her a bouquet of daisies.  Kid said they were her favorite."

There was another soft clink of ice against glass.  "When I didn't hear from him this week…I called and left a message."  The concern was evident in his voice.  "He usually gets back to me in a day or two."

"Tony's fine, Ernie."  Gibbs was quick to reassure the older man.  "Was a busy week."  

And they'd been spending more time at Gibbs' place so Tony might not have gotten the message.  Feeling guilty, Gibbs looked toward the answering machine on the end table.  The message light was flashing.

"That's okay then."  Ernie sounded relieved. "Kid gets himself into all sorts of trouble.  Who the hell gets the plague for crying out loud?"

Gibbs hadn't thought anyone outside of the office knew about Tony's brush with the Black Death.  "He told you about that?"  

"Kept him company one day when he was home on sick leave.  Rest of your team was out of town.  Kid sounded a bit lonely when he called so I stopped by to check on him."  

Gibbs flinched.  He'd suspected that had been the case, but Tony hadn't said anything.  He hadn't complained or led Gibbs to believe he wasn't okay on his own.  Unless he had an audience he thought expected him to, Tony didn't whine or bitch about things. It was something Gibbs should have realized sooner.  

His thoughts were interrupted when Ernie chuckled.  "DiNozzo plays a mean game of gin rummy, but sucks at poker.  Eyes give him away, every time."

Gibbs knew Louisa had stopped by but Tony had never even mentioned Ernie.  While he was glad Tony hadn't been completely on his own those few days, he wished his lover had bothered to say something then.  He might have worried less…but he doubted that.  Worrying about Tony was just second nature.  

"I'll tell him you called, Ernie."  

"Ah that's alright."  He could hear the older man's smile, and knew the man was waving a hand in a dismissive gesture.  "No need to bother him.  Kid doesn't need to know I was checking up on him.  I'm sure he'll call when he gets a chance."

There was a moment of hesitation on the line.  "You…ah…don't happen to know if he's got this Saturday free?"

Gibbs arched an eyebrow.  "Why?"

"Well, I was hoping he could stop by."  Gibbs could hear the smile in the older man's voice.  He sounded just a bit sly, like someone planning a surprise when he spoke again, "Got something I'd like to show him.  See if he's willing to do an old man a favor."

"If nothing comes up, he should have the day off."  Gibbs' curiosity was piqued, but he kept himself from asking for more details.  He was fairly certain Ernie wouldn't tell him anyway, although he wasn't sure why.

"Great."  Gibbs could hear the grin in the older man's voice.  "Thanks again.  Sorry to bother you, but well," there was a moment of embarrassed silence, "I can't help worrying about him, you know?"

Oh, I know, Gibbs thought.  He knew all too well.  "I understand, Ernie."

"He's a good kid."  There was a wealth of affection in that simple statement.  

Gibbs shook his head, slightly bemused by how quickly and easily Tony endeared himself to people.  It was a gift.  Hell, even people who shouldn't like him, who had reason to detest him, still thought he was a good guy.

"Have a good night, Gibbs."

"You too, Ernie."

Gibbs closed the phone, his expression thoughtful. Should he mention to Tony that Ernie called him to check up on the younger man?  No. He shook his head.  It was better not to mention that.  At least not until he knew for sure why Tony hadn't mentioned staying in touch with Ernie.  And not just in touch, it sounded at though they'd become good friends.

He finished his drink, absentmindedly toying with the glass.  He and Tony had only been together for three months.  It wasn't like the younger man had to tell him everything, but it still hurt a little that he'd been left out.  

Gibbs liked Ernie.  Surely Tony didn't think he'd object to his visiting the older man?  But then Gibbs had essentially stopped thinking about Ernie Yost once the case was settled, so maybe Tony thought he hadn't cared enough to bother mentioning staying in touch with Ernie.  

He blushed, suddenly ashamed of himself for not putting forth the effort to help the old marine. Since his wife died Ernie didn't have anyone.  Gibbs was familiar with that feeling, but he'd always had the Corps and then the job to fall back on.  

Maybe that was why Tony had started calling Ernie and stopping by.  He likely understood better than most what it was like to be lonely, to feel lost.  And he had seemed to really bond with Ernie, getting him to open up about why he thought he had a reason to kill his best friend.  That was something Gibbs knew the rest of his team wouldn't have been able to do.  It was the main reason he'd assigned Tony to look after Ernie in the first place.  

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.  Gibbs instinctively tensed, reaching for the weapon he hadn't removed.  He relaxed immediately when he recognized Tony's tread and heard his voice call out.

"Hi honey, I'm home."  

Gibbs rolled his eyes, amused in spite of himself.  He got up and met Tony in the hallway.  They'd developed the habit of greeting each other with a kiss, and Gibbs enjoyed how connected to Tony that simple gesture made him feel.

When he pulled back, Tony frowned at him.  "You've been drinking."

"Yeah," Gibbs admitted quietly.  "Just two."  Given what little Tony had said about his father's drinking habits, Gibbs wanted to make sure his lover knew he hadn't been overindulging.  

"Was that kind of case."  Tony smiled gently, one hand moving to cup Gibbs' face.  "I'm sorry you had to relive all that."  

Gibbs winced.  The driving need to catch Boone the first time had destroyed one marriage.  It had also changed him.  He couldn't fathom how seeing those dead women, or meeting someone like Boone could NOT change a man.  The days just didn't seem nearly as bright and promising; no one seemed as open or innocent as they should be any more.  In some ways that case finished the changes in him that had started with the loss of his wife and daughter.  

They were changes slowly being undone by the man in front of him.  He was still hardnosed and driven, but Gibbs was also happier than he'd been in a long time.  He was able to smile more and feel a lot more positive in his outlook.  If it hadn't been for Tony, he'd have never been able to face Boone without killing the man.

Gibbs turned his head to place a kiss in Tony's palm.  "I'm okay."

"Sure?"  Green eyes sought blue.  The question was a simple, straightforward request for reassurance, not a questioning of Gibbs' assertion.  The distinction was subtle but it was definitely there.

"Yeah."  Gibbs leaned forward and rested his cheek against Tony's.  It was, in some ways, a gesture more intimate than the kiss they'd shared earlier.  "What about you?  You okay?"

Tony sighed softly, a warm brush of air that felt good against Gibbs' skin.  "Getting there."

"You hungry?"

"Yes."  Tony stepped back.  He looked vaguely annoyed.  "Ducky took away my lunch."

Gibbs eyebrows rose.  "He took your lunch?"

"He was saying something about good cholesterol and bad."  Tony rolled his eyes.  "Then he took my pizza."  Tony sounded a bit put out by that, but not overly upset. Everyone gave Ducky more latitude than they would anyone else.

"Never did get to his point because…well, the case and everything, so I'm not sure what the hell he was trying to say."  Tony shrugged out his jacket, hanging it on the hook next to Gibbs'.  "I'm sure there is a lecture in my future somewhere about a balanced diet and eating more green, leafy things."

Gibbs chuckled.  "I've gotten the same lecture."

"Really?"  Tony gave him a bright smile.  "Good to know I'm not the only one he singles out."

He headed into the kitchen.  "You check the fridge?"

Gibbs shook his head.  It was a safe bet Louisa had left something in there.  Probably enough to feed a small army.   Louisa seemed bound and determined to fatten Tony up.  

"Cool.  She made my favorite."  

"Everything she makes is your favorite."

"True."  Tony grinned.  He pulled out a casserole.  "Heart attack in a dish."

"What?"  Gibbs leaned against the door jamb, frowning in confusion.

"Ham, potatoes, cheese…god only knows what else.  If Ducky thought pizza was bad for me, he'd never let me have any of this."  Tony's tone made it clear Ducky would never find out about this particular favorite.  And he certainly wouldn't get away with taking it as easily as he had Tony's lunch.  

"You'll like it.  Trust me."  Tony neatly pulled the cellophane off.  "Grab a couple of plates, will you?"

Gibbs moved to hand Tony two plates.  Tony piled a heaping portion onto each one, before placing one in the microwave.  He replaced the cellophane before putting the dish back in the fridge.  

He grabbed a beer, then nudged the door shut with his hip.  Cocking his head to one side in a pose that clearly signaled he was listening to something, Tony looked at him in confusion.  "Why aren't you watching the news?"

Gibbs hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I still don't feel comfortable using your remote."

Tony chuckled.  "It won't bite you."

No, Gibbs thought, the damn thing might explode or worse yet blow up that sinfully expensive plasma screen TV.  No way in hell was he paying to replace that.  It wasn't something he could just reboot.

"I'll change it for you."  Tony shook his head, leaving his beer on the counter as he headed into the living room.  "I keep telling you, you can't hurt anything."

Gibbs stifled his snort of disbelief.  Technology hated him.  Plain and simple.  If there was a way for it to go wrong and for him to be blamed for it, then Gibbs was sure it would happen.

Tony picked up the remote and hit a few buttons, the local news seamlessly appearing as if by magic.  Tony bowed and made a flourish toward the couch, inviting Gibbs to have a seat.  Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a smile.

Tony lightly tossed him the remote before turning to head back to the kitchen when the microwave peeped.  He hesitated for a moment, apparently catching sight of the blinking light on the answering machine.

Gibbs waited silently, trying not to look at his lover.  He wondered if Tony would put off playing the messages because of him.  Gibbs was relieved when Tony hit the play button without even looking at him or any hesitation.

The first message was some Disneyland promotion that Tony deleted almost before it started.  "Wished they'd quit with those things," he muttered.

The second was from Andrea.  She was his father's personal assistant and executive secretary.  It was a thank you for the birthday gift Tony had sent her four days ago.  She sounded nearly ecstatic about tickets to the New York Ballet.  Her obvious delight and gratitude made Tony smile brightly.  

"Don't think Mark is going to be as happy as she is."  Tony murmured quietly, shaking his head.

"Mark?"  Gibbs asked, unable to resist.

"Andrea's husband.  He hates ballet." Tony flashed him a quick grin.  "I sent her tickets for box seats at a Nextel Cup Race for their anniversary last year.  He was thrilled.  Andrea, not so much."  Tony chuckled.  "But it did make him happy, so she was okay with it."

The third message was from Ernie.  "Tony…it's Ernie…If you've got Saturday free, do you think you could stop by?  It's nothing important, so if you've already got plans this'll keep.  Just give me a call when you get a chance."

"Damn," Tony cursed softly.  "I forgot to call him this week."

Gibbs waited to see if Tony would fill him in on his friendship with Ernie, but the younger man just glanced at his watch and reached for the phone.  He hit number four on the speed dial.  Gibbs couldn't help but wonder who held the first three spots.  

"This will just take a second."  He gave Gibbs an apologetic glance, shrugging one shoulder.  "He worries if I don't call."

It was said so nonchalantly Gibbs realized the younger man had to have assumed he already knew that Tony had been staying in touch with Ernie.  Some days it really was a negative to have his team believe him endowed with more skills, abilities and knowledge than he actually possessed.

Gibbs racked his brain. Had Tony actually said something to him at some point?  He might have.  Something said in passing while Gibbs was focused on other things, or perhaps something Tony had said to one of the others on the team and thought Gibbs had overheard.  

"Hey, Ernie."  Tony smiled easily, with obvious affection.  "Just got your message.  Sorry I didn't call sooner."  The apology, although casually delivered, was an honest expression of regret.

Tony nodded at something being said even though there was no way Ernie could see him agreeing.  "You asked about Saturday?"  There was a small pause, and Tony looked amused.  "A favor?  I'm betting it's got something to do with cleaning the gutters."  

Tony shook his head, and rolled his eyes as he listened to whatever the older man was saying.  "The doctor told you not to climb up and down ladders, Ernie.  Hell, he's not even all that keen on you using the stairs.  And it's not a big deal for me to….Oh.  Something else then."  Tony sounded as curious as Gibbs felt.  

Just what the hell did Ernie want Tony at his place for?  He waited to see if any clues would be forthcoming.  He caught Ernie saying something about cleaning the garage and making arrangements with goodwill.  

"You going to need a U-haul?  Maybe a semi-truck?"  Tony laughed, eyes twinkling.  "That was not a silly question.  I've never been in your garage, Ernie.  You could have Jimmy Hoffa in there for all I know."  Tony just laughed harder at something Ernie said that Gibbs couldn't hear.

"Yeah, yeah.  Okay.  If nothing comes up, I'll be there Saturday.  If something does… it's not like I mean for…Stuff just…" Tony finally nodded and stopped trying to finish his sentence and offer an explanation for why the job came first and he might not be able to make it.  

Tony looked relieved Ernie obviously understood.  A lot of people didn't, Gibbs knew.   It always amazed him just how few people realized Tony took the job seriously.  As a cop, Tony had brought down mobsters, child molesters and murders.  That took a lot of dedication and was anything but the usual nine to five.  His work ethic hadn't changed just because he now worked for NCIS.

"Thanks….I'll call and let you know."  Tony snickered.  "Riiight. I'll believe that when I see it.  See you Saturday."

Tony hung up.  He grinned at Gibbs.  "Want to help clean out Ernie's garage?  Could be untold treasures there, Boss."  Tony waggled his eyebrows, eyes alit with merriment.  "Just imagine it…Newspapers from the forties.  Mismatched bolts.  Snarled strands of Christmas lights.  Fishing poles that haven't seen the light of day in decades. Spiders the size of small dogs."

Gibbs chuckled, amused at the description, wondering just how close it was to the real state of Ernie's garage.  He had the distinct feeling the older man wanted Tony there for something other than long overdue cleaning.  So as much as his curiosity clamored for him to say yes, he shook his head.  "I'll pass this time."

Gibbs promised himself, no matter what came up, Tony would have Saturday off to go visit Ernie.  He was too interested in what the older man might have in store to let anything interfere.  

"That mean you'll come along the next time?"  The questions was almost indifferent, teasing, but an undercurrent of seriousness gave away the fact it was a hopeful, genuine invitation.

Just how long had he been waiting to ask me that, Gibbs thought with a mental shake of his head.  His lover shouldn't hesitate to include him, shouldn't feel that he wouldn't be interested in his friends.  He couldn't see himself fitting in with Tony's frat brothers, but he wouldn't mind meeting them.  And Ernie was definitely Gibbs' type, so he shouldn't have been someone Tony had to worry about his lover getting along with. Gibbs knew he really needed to improve his communication skills.  

"Next time."  He smiled.  "Definitely."

"Cool."  Tony beamed at him.  "Pick out a movie, will you?  I'll be back with dinner."

Gibbs continued smiling at Tony's retreating form.  It took so little to make him happy.  And the rewards for doing so always made Gibbs wonder why more people in Tony's life hadn't made the effort.  

Gibbs shook his head, and got up to browse through Tony's extensive collection of DVD's.  Dinner and a movie.  It was not exactly a date, and yet it still had that same feeling.  A bit of anticipation and excitement, tempered with comfortable familiarity.  If any of his ex-wives had managed to make something so normal and ordinary feel special, he'd probably still be married.  

For the first time, he was glad his second and third marriages hadn't worked out.  They weren't failures.  They were just practice runs for this.  And he was damn sure going to get it right this time.  

Tony tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and the dash, easily matching the song on the radio while he waited for the light to change.  He only indulged himself in this particular hobby when alone.  Too many people found it annoying and disruptive for him to do it when others were around.

It was strange, when he thought about it, because it was for the annoying, disruptive quality that he first developed the ability.  His mother had wanted him to take music lessons, to learn to play something refined like the piano so she could have him show off at her social tea parties.  But in a moment of calculated rebellion he'd signed up for drum lessons instead.  It had earned him a black eye, but it was worth it.  They weren't an instrument she'd ever ask him to play for her friends, performing like some trained monkey.  

Practicing an hour a day had forced his father to notice him, something that Anthony Sr. hadn't appreciated.  He'd retaliated by making Tony attend his trips to re-enact Civil War battles.  Tony actually enjoyed the historical aspect.  He suspected his father knew, and that was why his father made sure he got assigned as degrading a task as he could think of.  
        
But carrying around a latrine bucket for the 'soldiers' and being dubbed 'poo boy' hadn't kept him from continuing to play the drums.  In fact, it only made him more determined to improve his ability, even broadening his interest.  By the time he'd finished school he'd learn to play every percussion instrument; from the triangle to the xylophone he'd mastered them all.

The light changed, and Tony drove forward, still tapping softly with this thumbs.  He glanced at the digital display on the dash.  He'd told Ernie he'd be at his place around ten.  

All the joking he'd done with Gibbs about the state of Ernie's garage aside, he was honestly curious as to what he'd find.  The old marine had some neat memorabilia in his house, and had delighted in sharing the stories about how he'd acquired each item.  Ernie was a great storyteller, in spite of the fact he sometimes lost track of where he was and what he was doing.

Tony wondered just how much they'd actually manage to get rid of.  He had a feeling once Ernie started going through things, he'd start taking trips down memory lane and very little would actually be sorted and sent to goodwill.  Not that it mattered.  There wasn't any real deadline.

He felt briefly guilty for hoping it would take more than one day.  He liked spending time with Ernie, enjoyed his reminiscing.  His own grandfather never had time for anything but business, so visiting with Ernie was like having the opportunity to capture something he'd missed out on as a child.

Tony turned right on to Merry St.  Something about the name always made him chuckle.  He figured the man who'd picked the name had to be an optimist.  Turning left on Delightful, he snickered.  It had to have been the same guy who named that one.  Tony figured it was a step up from tree streets.  There had to be an oak, elm, maple and pine in every town and city in America.  But he was pretty sure there weren't many Delightful or Merrys to be had.

Ernie had told him his wife had picked the house.  She'd been pleased with the street names.  It was hard to imagine anything bad ever happening on Delightful Avenue.  

Although, the cynic in Tony was quick to point out a happy street name was no more a valid talisman against bad things than a crucifix.  There were probably just as many people cheating on their spouses, beating their children or considering murder as any other neighborhood in America.  But it was still nice to think the street names created some illusion of peace and contentment.

Tony pulled into Ernie's driveway and parked the car.  He sighed, giving it a critical look as he got out of the car.  The sedan was nice enough.  It handled well, was fuel efficient and fairly comfortable, but it wasn't HIS car.  It was bland, nondescript, and had absolutely no style.  

The Vette had been a graduation present from Sully; the last thing she'd given him before her death.  It was the only vehicle he'd ever owned, and he'd never wanted anything else.   

The insurance check from his Vette was sitting in his bank account, waiting to be spent. He'd put off looking for a car as long as possible, feeling somehow disloyal or unfaithful for even considering getting a new one.  He felt like he'd let Sully down; he should have taken better care of her gift.  He ignored the fact that he'd had it detailed once a month, kept it tuned up and in pristine condition for more than a decade, and that he wasn't the one who'd totaled the car.  He still felt responsible.

Tony knew if he could call Sully on the phone to tell her about the Vette the first words out of her mouth would be, 'Are you okay'.   Material things were replaceable.  She must have said it to him a hundred times if she said it once.  

To her, a car was just a means of transportation, and as long as it did the job, what it looked like was immaterial.  She'd gotten him the Vette because she knew Tony cared about style, that he wanted something sporty and fast, something that made a statement and turned heads. She had a knack for giving gifts that suited the recipient.

Tony patted the roof of the sedan.  He couldn't see himself driving something like it around for the rest of his life.  He just needed to find the right car.  Sully would expect him to.  

He nodded to himself.  Between the job, spending time with Gibbs off duty and with friends like Ernie, his time had been limited.  But he really couldn't put it off too much longer.  

He grinned.  Maybe he'd ask Ernie to go with him to look.  Gibbs certainly had no patience for it.  

Tony sauntered up to the door.  He knocked and waited.  Eye wandering over the neighborhood, noting the well kept lawns and the neatly trimmed shrubbery.  It was suburban America at its best.

Ernie opened the door. He pointed a finger at Tony.  "How many times do I have to tell you…don't have to beat on my door.  Just walk in.  You're welcome to come in any time."

This little tirade was the main reason he kept knocking.  It was nice to hear repeatedly that he was welcome in Ernie's home.  The novelty had yet to wear off.

Tony kept his expression innocent, smiling brightly, deliberately ignoring the chastisement.  "Hi, Ernie."

Ernie rolled his eyes but smiled back.  "You can just put that 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' face back in your pocket.  It doesn't work on me."

"Sure it does," Tony countered.  "It works on everyone."

Ernie snorted and opened the door wider, a clear invitation to enter.  "You keep telling yourself that, kid."

"It works on people who don't know me."

"Better."  Ernie chuckled.  "You want a cup of coffee?"

"Sure."  Tony had about half a cup before he'd left his place.  That was all of the pot Gibbs had left him.  He was going to have to buy a bigger coffee maker.  

Ernie's coffee wasn't as good as what Tony's, but it wasn't a bad second choice.  Tony was just grateful Ernie didn't like the road tar consistency that Gibbs favored when his favorite selection of Manny's Mud ran out.  The former cop made sure they didn't run out again.

Tony followed Ernie into the kitchen.  He took the cup offered, leaning against the counter as Ernie took a seat at the table.  He sipped the hot beverage slowly, enjoying the taste, relieved the older man hadn't added his usual liquor flavoring to Tony's mug.

As always, Ernie asked about his week, and Tony obligingly filled him in.  He left out the more gory aspects, and skimmed over the minutiae of the case.  It was nice to be able to talk about things without being pressed for details.  And Ernie got a lot of what he wasn't saying anyway.  

The only other people who would understand so well were his teammates.  But he couldn't talk to Gibbs.  The older man never talked about cases, seemed immune to a lot of the crap they dealt with.  Tony didn't want to appear weak and needy in front of his boss, so outside of work, cases were rarely a topic of conversation.  

He suspected Gibbs talked with Ducky, if he spoke to anyone at all.  It was a fact which mentally had Tony checking the ME off his list of possible confidants.  He didn't mind sharing his life, his bed, even his coffee…but sharing a personal sounding board was where he drew the line.  

Although he wasn't quite sure why, he felt like he should be there for McGee.  That he should be the one to offer a shoulder for McGee to lean on, be the person the junior agent talked to when it got to be too much, the one to tease him when he got a little too pensive or serious about things.  He knew he didn't always do a very good job of it, but he was trying to do better.  And doing better meant it wouldn't be right to burden McGee with his own problems or difficulties in dealing with a case.  The probie had enough to deal will all on his own.

Abby wasn't really an option either.  For all her Goth attire and fascination with the macabre, Tony really didn't think she'd care for the humanized aspect of the darker side of things.  She saw pictures of the dead girls, not their bodies.  She saw them as evidence not as people, and he wanted her to be able to keep doing so.  

While he appreciated Paula's offer to talk, he'd never take her up on it.  He couldn't.  She'd want to make everything better, fix it much the same way Kate would have tried to do.  And Tony wasn't sure he trusted any woman to make it all better, make everything all right.  His mother certainly hadn't been able to, or even seemed to want to. His stepmother wasn't much different from his mother in that regard except she was less inclined to hit him.  None of the women he'd ever dated had been able to.  Not that any had tried very hard.  

Honestly, no one could make him believe it would be 'all right'.  He wasn't that naïve any more, if he ever had been.  What he needed was someone to tell him it would be okay eventually, someone who'd survived it, someone who knew it was enough to deal with things the best way he could and move on.  

Ernie was perfect for that.  He didn't press, didn't judge, didn't interrupt. He was willing to take as much or as little as Tony was able to give.

The older man understood better than most.  His best friend had been dead for more than forty years before he managed to actually discuss the details of how Wade had died.  Tony had a feeling Kate would be dead at least that long before he ever managed to come to terms with losing her.

Tony finished his coffee.  "You ready to go tackle the garage?"

"Kid…about that…"  Ernie shot him an apologetic look.

"What?"  Tony raised an eyebrow.  "You change your mind?"  

"Not exactly." Ernie leaned forward resting his elbows on the table.  "See…the garage doesn't need cleaning.  Not really. There's just one big thing taking up space that I want to get rid of."

Tony blinked. "Tell me it's not a grand piano."

"Piano?"  Ernie snickered, sitting back in his chair.  "Nothing like that."

"Thank God."  Tony brushed a hand across his forehead in a dramatic sign of relief.  He grinned.  "So what is it that you want to unload?"

"I don't want to just unload it, Tony."

Tony froze, sobering.  It was rare that Ernie called him by his first name.  He usually called him 'kid' or DiNozzo.  For a while he wasn't sure the older man even knew he had a first name.

"What do you want to do with it?"  He asked quietly.

"I want to give it to you."

"Me?"  Tony stared at Ernie.  He wasn't expecting that.  Even not knowing what it was, he still felt the need to protest.  "Don't you have family that-"

"I got a couple of nieces that live on the other side of the country.  Haven't seen them in nearly fifteen years."  Ernie snorted.  "Got more than half a dozen great-nephews, but I wouldn't know them if they walked up and slapped me one."

"What about," Tony hesitated for a moment before continuing with the question. "What about Dorothy's family?"

"None of them left."  Ernie smiled sadly.  "Besides, I wouldn't want any of them to have it."  Blue eyes met green.  "You will take care of it for me, won't you?  I know you'd appreciate her, give her the respect and attention she deserves."

She?  Tony felt both eyebrows climb.  "What are we talking about here, Ernie?"

"C'mon, I'll show you."  Ernie got up and headed for the door to the garage.  He flipped a switch, florescent lights flickering before illuminating the garage.

Tony had to agree the garage didn't need cleaning.  Ernie had applied the same sort of order to it that dominated the rest of the house.  Lawn tools hung neatly from hooks in the wall.  The tool bench was spotless.  Tony suspected all the hand tools were lined up in their appropriate place inside the bins and drawers, arranged according to size and type.  Old paint cans were stacked underneath the bench, nestled snuggly against a few old wooden crates full of recyclable items; newspapers, cans and plastic bottles.  A snow shovel leaned against the wall, not far from the overhead door, ready and waiting for winter.

In the second bay, under a tarp was what had to be a car.  Ernie stepped over to it and flipped the tarp back to reveal what lay beneath.  It left Tony breathless.

"A 1966 Mustang," Tony's whisper was reverent.  He moved toward the car, unable to resist the pull of the classic beauty in front of him.  

The finish was immaculate, gleaming dully.  The color had to be a more recent custom job.  That shade of metallic green hadn't been available in the 60's.

Tony reached out hesitantly, fingertips barely brushing the smooth finish.  It was cool to the touch, but he could almost feel the spirit of the car warming, eager to move.  This was not a vehicle meant to stand still.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"  The pride in Ernie's voice was unmistakable.

"Very," Tony readily agreed.  The car was a work of art.

"I was in my forties when I bought her."  Ernie looked away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.  "Dorothy said I was just being foolish.  Said I didn't need a car like this."  

Blue eyes rose to meet green.  "Today they'd call it a mid-life crisis."  Ernie snorted.  "Crisis hell.  Wasn't about getting older or reliving my glory days.  I saw her in the show room…and I couldn't resist taking her out for a test drive."

Ernie lightly stroked the hood, caressing it the way one might a beloved family pet.  "Fell in love with her the minute I got behind the wheel." The older man's eyes lit up as he clearly remembered that moment.  "She purred like a kitten."  He grinned at Tony.  "Still does."

Tony had no doubt about that.  The car was too well kept to be anything less than perfect.

"Still has the original motor."  Ernie reached inside the driver side window and popped the hood latch. "289 cubic inch, 235 horsepower, V8 with a 4 barrel carburetor."  

"Shelby engine?"  Tony asked, helping Ernie lift the hood.

"Yep."

Tony whistled in appreciation.  In his day, Shelby had turned out some of the best racing engines known to man.  Tony was not at all surprised to see the engine was as pristine as the outside of the car had been.  

Tony was impressed with the elegant simplicity of the design.  Everything was exactly where it should be.   In 1966 there was no such thing as cruise control, or remote door locks, or even power windows, so the electronic components in newer cars were absent.  There was nothing in the engine compartment that wasn't related to moving the vehicle forward and running smoothly.  

"Want to fire her up?"

"I'd love to."  Tony wasn't about to pass up an opportunity like that.

"Keys are in her."  Ernie stepped back, dropped the hood in place and gestured to the driver's side door.  

Tony hesitated, his hand on the door handle.  Even though Ernie had offered, he still felt a bit like he was trespassing.  He'd had this car for longer than Tony had been alive, and she was obviously his baby. Ernie rolled his eyes at him.

"Get in already."  

Tony slid into the driver's seat, settling into the butter-soft beige leather with a sigh.  He stroked the steering wheel, eyes roaming over the dash.  All the instrumentation looked to be as original as the engine.

"Had a few things upgraded over the years.  Nothing much though."  Ernie leaned in, forearms resting on the door, hands hanging just inside the open window.  "Redid the carpets and the upholstery a couple of years ago when I had her repainted in the 80's."  Ernie chuckled fondly.  "Let Dorothy pick the paint.  Green always was her favorite."

Ernie pointed to the middle of the dash.  "Got a new radio put in just before the pricks at the DMV took my license away."  

Tony glanced over, surprised to see a state of the art CD player instead of a vintage radio.  Whoever had done the installation had done an outstanding job.  The new feature blended seamlessly, almost as though it had been factory standard.  

"Go on, fire her up."  Ernie patted Tony's shoulder.

Tony turned the key.  The engine came to life with a soft growl, idling smoothly.  He could almost hear the car begging for a chance to escape the confines of the garage.  

"Let's take her out for a spin."

"You sure?"  Tony bit his lip, uncertain.  Ernie hadn't said so, but Tony was fairly confident no one else had driven this car since the day Ernie bought her.

"Sure, I'm sure."  Ernie growled.  He walked over and hit the button to open the garage door.  It rose smoothly, bright sunlight flooding the interior.  Ernie walked back and eased into the passenger seat.  

He grinned at Tony.  "What are you waiting for?"

Shaking his head, Tony put the car in gear.  Driving this car was like driving the Vette again.  She accelerated so smoothly Tony found himself constantly checking to make sure he wasn't exceeding the speed limit by too much.  On a case he didn't care, but the last thing he wanted was to get pulled over on his day off.

Ernie had rolled his window down.  Despite the faint chill in the air it felt wonderful.  It was almost like flying.  Next best thing, Tony thought with a smile.

He was really going to hate not being able to take Ernie up on his offer.  There was no way he could accept this car.  She was the older man's pride and joy, he couldn't take her.

"I missed this."  Ernie gave him a quick smile.  "Haven't had her out on the road for far too long."  He patted the dash affectionately.  "She missed it, too."

Ernie nodded to himself.  "Doing the right thing giving her to you."

"Ernie…about that-"

The older man gave him a sharp look.  "Can't tell me you don't want her."  

"It's not that I don't want her."  Hell, he'd already fallen in love with her.  He wanted this car like he wanted air to breathe, but it would be wrong to accept such a gift.  "It's too much, Ernie."

"Bullshit," Ernie countered gruffly.  "She's my car.  My choice what to do with her.  And I'm giving her to you."

"But-"

"But nothing."  Ernie shifted in his seat so he faced Tony more directly.  "They took away my license.  All she does now is sit in that garage.  She deserves better.  She was meant to be driven, DiNozzo."

"Ernie-"

"Don't Ernie me."  Ernie's eyes narrowed.  "I saw how you were with the Vette.  You'll take good care of my baby."

"You know what happened to the Vette."  Tony winced.  It still hurt to think about what happened to that car, but Ernie had to realize he couldn't trust Tony with the Mustang.

"I know that wasn't your fault."  Ernie reached out and laid a hand on Tony's arm.  "How long did you have that car?"

"Sixteen years."

"And she still looked as good as the day you got her."  Ernie patted his arm.  "You treated her right.  Not your fault someone else abused her."

Tony pulled over, parking the car before turning to look directly at Ernie. He couldn't drive and argue effectively.  It was too easy to let the smooth ride and responsiveness of the Mustang convince him to take Ernie up on his offer.

"This car is a classic."  Tony tried to sound reasonable, encouraging.  "She's worth a bundle.  You could sell it-"

"I don't want to sell her."  Ernie folded his arms over his chest.  He looked like a petulant two year old.  

"Ernie, you could use that money."  The older man was on a fixed income.  Tony knew for a fact that social security and his pension barely covered the necessities.  "There are plenty of people who would pay top dollar for-"

"I don't want her going to some collector who'll just put her in storage."  Ernie shook his head.  "If I wanted that, I'd leave her in the garage.  And if I wanted to see her just on display, I'd park her out on the street in front of God and everyone."

"Ernie you've had this car longer than I've been alive."  Tony rubbed a hand over his face.  "You can't just-"

"Like hell I can't."  Ernie glared at him.  "I'm an adult for crying out loud.  I many not be playing with all my marbles all the time, but damn it…"  Ernie paused, and took a deep breath.  

"Look…I'm going to be 79 in a few months, Tony.  Just how much longer do you think I'm going to live?"  Ernie gave him an annoyed, exasperated look.  "I want her to go to someone that will treat her right.  Appreciate her for the thing of beauty she is. Don't want her to be something relatives I barely know fighting over when I'm dead and buried."  

Tony bit his lower lip.  He instinctively wanted to protest Ernie planning for his death, but the older man was right. No matter how much Tony liked him, and wanted more time, Ernie wasn't going to live forever.  If he were dieing, Tony would want the same option of seeing his possessions, things he valued, being passed on to people he cared about.  

Tony sighed.  "You're really sure you want to-"

"Hell yes."  Ernie made eye contact and held it easily.  "I'd have never even suggested it if I didn't want you to have her." He gave Tony a vaguely wounded and confused look.  "I thought you'd be happy to take her."

"I am."  Tony stroked the steering wheel lovingly. "I just---Jesus, Ernie, I never expected…just being your friend…it's enough, more than enough. I don't need-"

"I know."  Ernie gave him a warm smile.  He shrugged one shoulder.  "It's another reason why I want you to have her."

"Are you really sure about this?"  Tony felt obligated to give Ernie another chance to back out.  "I mean, maybe you should think about this awhile.  It's not a decision you should be hasty with."

Ernie laughed.  "Kid, I have thought about this.  For weeks."

Tony blinked.  "That long?"

"That long," Ernie confirmed with a firm nod.  "First time you showed up in that stupid sedan."  Ernie rolled his eyes.  "God, Kid, how did you stand driving around in that thing?  It's got no style at all."

Tony chuckled.  That wasn't quite what he'd expected the older man to say.  He'd seemed far too practical a sort, too much like Gibbs, to have given the style or lack thereof any thought.  But then, Tony reminded himself, Ernie owned a 1966 Mustang.  He understood style when it came to cars.

"It works well enough." Tony shrugged, looking away.  

Ernie made a 'pfft' noise.  "So does a bicycle."

Tony threw his head back and laughed.  He lightly punched Ernie in the shoulder.  "You are such a pain in the ass."

Ernie grinned. "Yeah, well, we all got to be something."

"True."  

Ernie sobered.  "So you'll taker her?"

Tony hesitated for a second.  He knew what other people would think…that he'd befriended Ernie just to milk him for anything valuable he might own.  It was an old story and far too common.  It wasn't true, but that wouldn't matter to most people.

"Tell you what…I'll buy her," Tony offered.  He'd been looking for a way to help Ernie out financially that wouldn't seem like charity.  This would be perfect.

"I want her to be a gift, Tony."

"I know."  Tony sighed softly.  He was flattered, and even proud that Ernie had picked him.  "But it's too much."

"The only way you'll take her is if I let you pay me?"

The older man didn't sound insulted, but Tony still felt the need to apologize.  "I'm sorry, Ernie, but I just can't-"

Ernie held up his hand.  "I get it.  I do."  He smiled and lightly patted Tony's face.  "You're a good kid."

Tony could feel himself blushing.  "I am not."

"Yeah, you are."  Ernie grinned.  "We'll negotiate the price back that the house."

Tony had a feeling that could take awhile, but he already knew he'd be seeing to it that Ernie got at least the amount of the insurance check sitting in his checking account.  More if he could convince the man to take it.

Ernie waved a hand toward the road.  "For now…I still want to let her run."

"Okay."  

"And this time, let her really fly."

Tony grinned.  "Can do."

Gibbs kept his movements smooth and even, sanding the wood carefully.  He loved the feel of it giving way, turning rough lumber into something more.  The beauty of the grain as it was revealed never failed to entrance him.   The familiar, soothing fragrance of sawdust enveloped him as he worked.  

The first boat he'd started was therapy of sorts.  It gave him something repetitive, but not mindless to focus on when the problems of life and his job got to be too much.  It was even therapeutic when he'd burned it.  He couldn't imagine sailing her when his daughter couldn't go with him.

Starting the boat before this one had been more a force of habit.  He missed the feel of wood beneath his hands, the scent of sawdust, and the beauty of the lines as it began to come together.  It was a way of establishing something with his new wife, starting over, a new beginning. Burning it was a necessity.  Diane had tainted everything about that one.

This one…this one, had a lot of memories and emotion worked into her too.  Most were inspired by good people like Ducky, Abby and McGee.  Some were just painful, the loss of Pacci and Kate, and Gerald no longer on the team.  And some were…simply outstanding like Tony.  The younger man was a source of joy and sorrow, pride and shame, delight and pain, love and fear in equal measure.  His lover was a significant part of this boat even though he'd never laid a hand on her.  She might actually see the water some day.  Assuming Gibbs could get her out of the basement.

He lightly ran his fingers over the wood, feeling for invisible imperfections.  Gibbs smiled when he didn't find any.  She was definitely coming together nicely.

Gibbs stepped back, picking up his coffee mug, admiring his handiwork.  He took a sip and grimaced when he realized his coffee had grown cold.  A glance at his watch told him he'd been in the basement for several hours.  

He stretched.  Gibbs' back protested, reminding him it had been a month since he'd spent so much time working on the boat.  Tony had told him more than once that power tools would make the process faster and easier, but Gibbs liked the slow, careful process.  And Gibbs disliked the noise of power tools.  

He sighed softly and headed upstairs.  He expected Tony to show up soon. The younger man said he'd be back in time for dinner.  

Gibbs poured his cold coffee into the sink.  He wondered just how much stuff they managed to clean out of Ernie's garage.  He was more curious about what surprise the old Marine had in store for Tony.  

He grinned to himself.  Knowing Tony, Gibbs wouldn't even have to ask.  He was fairly certain his lover would start talking the minute he got home.

Gibbs checked the fridge.  He needed to make something for dinner.  Meatloaf, he decided, baked potatoes and green beans.  The beans weren't leafy, but they should be green enough to satisfy Ducky.  He appreciated his old friend's efforts to modify both his and Tony's diet, but he didn't think the ME would have much luck.  

"Good cholesterol, bad."  Gibbs shook his head.  "Like I really need to worry about a heart attack being what kills me."  He snorted, washing his hands before starting dinner.  It was far more likely he'd get killed in the line of duty.    

He gripped the edge of the counter tightly, knuckles whitening as the image of Kate lying dead, a bullet hole in her forehead, suddenly overwhelmed him.  She'd eaten healthy, worked out, was young and strong, smart and capable.  And she was still dead.  

Gibbs took a slow, deep breath and let it out.  He wasn't angry any more.  No, that emotion he'd dealt with.  Mostly.  It was the guilt he couldn't quite seem to get a handle on.  It wasn't as if Gibbs had pulled the trigger, but he still felt her death was his fault. He should have realized Ari would target her.  

Gibbs shook his head banishing the image and the emotion that went with it.  He never spent time dwelling on things he couldn't change and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now.  

Forcing himself to let go of the counter, Gibbs started making dinner.  Ten minutes after the meatloaf was in the oven, he heard the door open.  The hinges squeaked, and Gibbs hadn't oiled them on purpose.  The faint noise made a good early warning system.

"Hi, honey. I'm home."  It was rapidly becoming Tony's standard greeting, and it never failed to make Gibbs smile.  

"I'm in the kitchen."

Tony wandered in, sans shoes.  He smiled warmly at Gibbs, leaning in for a kiss.  Gibbs loved these moments of casual intimacy.  They were so comfortable, so natural, and definitely not something they could do anywhere but in the privacy of their own homes.  

Tony pulled back and breathed in deeply.  "Meatloaf?"

"Meatloaf," Gibbs confirmed.  He was always impressed with Tony's sensory ability.  The younger man had better eyesight than most, and his sense of smell was well above average.  His hearing wasn't quite as good as Gibbs' but he was no slouch there either.  

Tony leaned toward him again and breathed in deeply a second time.  "Sawdust," he murmured with a soft, pleased smile.  "You work on the boat all day?"

"Not all day."  

"Long enough for your back to bother you." Tony rolled his eyes. "I can tell just from your posture."

Gibbs resisted the urge to roll his shoulders.  He couldn't really say anything.  It would sound too much like he was admitting Tony was right.  

"You get Ernie's garage taken care of?"

"Smooth subject change there, Boss."  Tony snickered, stepping back and turning to look in the fridge.  "We got any juice?"

Gibbs was unable to resist staring at Tony's ass when the younger man bent over and reached for something inside the fridge.  It had to be one of the nicest butts he'd seen in a long time, hell in his entire life.  It never failed to get Gibbs' attention, and it just begged to be petted now.  Gibbs let his fingers run lightly over the tight denim, enjoying the feel of hard muscle underneath.  

"Well, hello, Jethro." Tony looked coyly over his shoulder.  "You just browsing or were you looking for something specific."

Gibbs patted Tony's ass firmly.  "Oh, I think I found what I was looking for."

Tony chuckled, straightening up.  "We got time before dinner?"  His voice dipped an octave, rough and sexy.  It made Gibbs shiver.

"Plenty."  He didn't care if dinner burned to a crisp at this point.  He couldn't seem to get enough of Tony.  

Tony smiled, green eyes nearly incandescent.  "Good."  

Tony captured Gibbs' mouth.  The kiss they'd shared earlier had been a simple greeting, an expression of welcome and affection.  This kiss…this one was far more than that.  

Gibbs moaned, reveling in the unique taste that was Tony.  How his lover could always taste good was a mystery.  It was a mystery which Gibbs really wanted to spend a lifetime trying to solve, exploring at every possible opportunity.

He raised his hands to cup Tony's face, tilting his head for a better angle.  Gibbs was determined to find those tonsils Tony's medical history said he still had.  He didn't mind Tony returning the favor.

The need to breathe forced him to release that delectable mouth for a moment.  Gibbs knew from experience a moment would be enough for Tony to start focusing elsewhere.  The younger man nibbled along Gibbs' jaw toward his ear.  Tony sighed, his warm breath caressing the sensitive skin of the lobe made Gibbs shudder.  Tony nipped him, then licked away that small flash of pain almost before it registered.  

The younger man's hands were busy undoing the buttons of Gibbs' shirt.  Gibbs tried to help, but gave up when he realized he was just slowing the process down.  Tony was amazingly quick and deft when it came to revealing skin.  Gibbs avoided thinking about just how much practice Tony had to have gotten to develop that particular skill.

Gibbs didn't even bother trying to match Tony's efficient ability.  He settled for pulling his lover's shirt up, shoving it out of the way so he could have access to the smooth, warm skin beneath.  He loved the feel of the silky expanse of Tony's back, the lightly furred chest, the way hard muscles along his sides flexed in response to Gibbs' touch.

He briefly wondered if he should be at all concerned they were apparently planning to have sex in his kitchen.  Gibbs wasn't a prude, but sex in his home other than in the bedroom wasn't something he'd made a habit of.  None of his wives had ever been overly adventurous, and Gibbs hadn't pushed it.  Tony, on the other hand, had remarkably few inhibitions.

Tony's hand rested on the bare skin of Gibbs' chest.  He smiled before he stiff-armed the former Marine, pushing him back.  Gibbs stifled the nearly instinctive urge to resist.  Instead he let Tony force him back a step and then another until he was up against the counter.

Tony gave him a wicked grin before sliding down Gibbs' body and coming to rest on his knees.  Green eyes looked up at him coyly as Tony undid Gibbs' belt and zipper.  Gibbs sighed in relief as his hard cock was freed from the confines of his jeans and boxers.  

Gibbs loved getting a blowjob from Tony but he preferred lovemaking that was satisfying for both of them.  It felt selfish to indulge himself in something he loved at the expense of Tony's own enjoyment.  He opened his mouth to protest, but all thoughts of arguing vanished the moment he felt the broad pad of Tony's warm, wet tongue glide over the length if his cock.  

"Jesus."  The curse slipped out in a reverent whisper as Gibbs' head tilted back to rest against the cabinet door behind him.  

Tony's soft chuckle vibrated through him, heightening the erotic sensation.  "No, just Tony."

Gibbs snickered in spite of himself.  He lightly pet Tony's hair, blue eyes looking down to meet jade green.  "Smart ass."

"You love my ass."  

"No, I love you," Gibbs corrected, his hand moving to cup Tony's cheek.  "Your ass is just icing on the cake."

A faint blush rose to color Tony's cheekbones.  Gibbs loved seeing Tony blush.  It happened so rarely.  

Tony licked his lips.  Gibbs' eyes followed the movement of that tantalizing bit of pink flesh, a moan escaping as he thought about just how talented Tony was with it.  The man could tempt a saint.  No doubt about it.

Tony took the head of Gibbs' cock in his mouth.  The tip of his agile tongue began stroking up and down, playing gently with the sensitive flesh.  Gibbs sucked in a breath in a gasp, locking his knees to stay up right as an unexpected rush of pleasure hit him hard.

Gibbs pet Tony's hair with one hand, the other moved to grip the counter behind him.  He tried not to thrust into the welcoming heat of Tony's mouth.  Soft whimpers escaped him as Tony took more of his cock, starting a stroking rhythm guaranteed to drive Gibbs closer to the edge.  

He growled, eyes opening in surprise and frustration when Tony suddenly released him.  He opened his mouth to ask what the hell was wrong, but the question died unvoiced as he watched Tony rise smoothly to his feet with enviable grace and ease.  

The shirt Gibbs had rucked up earlier was casually discarded.  Tony smiled softly at him.  He dropped his eyes for a moment, looking uncharacteristically shy before agile fingers quickly undid the button fly of his jeans.  He executed a neat roll of his hips that would have made an exotic dancer proud, shimmying out of his remaining clothing.

Gibbs swallowed hard.  God but Tony was beautiful like this.  Gibbs pushed himself away from the counter, desperately wanting to make contact again.  He'd dreamed about moments like this for so long before they'd gotten together sometimes the only way he could convince himself they were real was to touch.  Tony held up a finger, silently asking him to wait.

Tony did a neat pirouette.  He looked over his shoulder, before bending over to brace his hands against the island.  That ass Gibbs had been admiring only a few minutes ago was now presented to him in a blatant invitation.  

Gibbs reached out and ran his fingertips down Tony's back, running from the edge of his hair line all the way to the curve of his ass, admiring the smooth skin and taunt muscles.  He kept his touch light but firm enough not to tickle.  Tony sighed, his head dropping forward as his back arched upward like a cat.  

Tony widened his stance when Gibbs' hands came to rest on his hips, fingers flexing as his thumbs massaged the small depressions at the base of Tony's spine.   Blue eyes searched the kitchen for something to use as a lubricant.  Spit would help, but it wasn't enough.  He wasn't going to hurt Tony.

He grinned, suppressing a chuckle when he spotted a bottle of extra virgin olive oil that he'd left out on the island.  He'd used it earlier to make more salad dressing.  It was sitting not far from Tony's right hand. That'll do nicely, Gibbs thought.  

He reached for it, laying his chest against Tony's back, nibbling the nape of his neck.  He left a trail of kisses down the younger man's spine, placing one on each vertebra.  Tony made one of those long purring sighs Gibbs loved to hear.

He unscrewed the cap of the bottle, careful not to spill too much on to his fingers.  Tony whispered something soft in Italian when Gibbs inserted one finger.  He thrust back into Gibbs' hand, hips rolling in a move that was obviously a request for more.  

Gibbs ran his other hand down Tony's spine again. He wasn't sure if the gesture was meant to sooth or arouse.  Gibbs decided it didn't matter; Tony wasn't complaining either way.  He loved touching his younger lover nearly as much as Tony seemed to enjoy being touched.  

Gibbs added a second finger.  The low moan Tony made raised goosebumps along the older man's arms.  Tony rocked back and then forward, slowly fucking himself on Gibbs' fingers.  The former Marine bit down on his lip, his control sorely tested.  

Gibbs withdrew his fingers.  He stroked Tony's spine again when the younger man made a faint sound of loss and disappointment.  "Shhh…It's alright."  

"Jethro…per favore."  The soft plea in Italian was close enough to Spanish for Gibbs to grasp that Tony was saying please.

"Ti voglio bene."  Tony looked over his shoulder, eyes heavy lidded, the pupils so large as to nearly eclipse the green.  "Subito…per favore…interno me."

Gibbs shuddered, captivated by the hoarse, hungry sound of Tony's normally smooth tenor.  He had only a vague idea of what the words meant, but the meaning was clear.  One of these days, he promised himself, he was going to learn Italian.  

Gibbs nodded slowly, petting Tony again.  He ran his slick fingers over his achingly hard, leaking cock.  Gibbs gripped himself at the base, tightening almost painfully for a second, forcing himself back from the brink.  Making this last was not really going to be an option, but he still wanted to make it very good for both of them.  

He impatiently shoved his pants and boxers further down and out of the way as he positioned himself to enter Tony.  As Gibbs moved forward Tony pressed back into him, joining them together in one extraordinarily perfect moment.  Gibbs sucked in a harsh breath, holding still for a moment as he tried to adjust to the amazing tightness and heat that now surrounded him.  No matter how many times they did this, it never failed to take his breath away.

Gibbs pulled back and thrust forward, hands holding on to Tony's hips.  He knew his grip had to be bordering on painful but Tony didn't complain.  The younger man just moved with him, encouraging him to go harder, faster and deeper.  

"Touch yourself, Tony."  Gibbs didn't even recognize his own voice; it was so raw and breathless.  He knew that directive would subtly shift the dynamics, letting Tony set the pace for them.  Gibbs wasn't completely sure how or why it happened that way, but it always did.  

Gibbs' breathing was coming in harsh pants as he kept pace with Tony.  He closed his eyes, letting the sensations take over.  Faint tremors rippled over him, and his lower back tingled…telltale signs he was close, so close.  

Gibb wanted to hold it off longer. He loved that feeling of balancing on the edge of a cliff, hanging there for an infinite and yet all too limited moment in time.  He could almost feel a surge of energy rippling over him, through him, leaving his skin tingling, his muscles flexing and taunt, breath lost.  

He heard Tony cry out his name.  The internal contractions of Tony's orgasm pulled Gibbs' own from him.  He came with a silent cry, shaking with the intensity of the moment.  

Gibbs leaned forward, resting against Tony's back, eyes still tightly closed as he struggled to slow his breathing.  He blindly placed a kiss on Tony's shoulder blade.  His arms moved to wrap around the younger man, his left hand resting just over Tony's heart.  He could feel the rhythm of Tony's heart, strong and steady.  

Tony sighed.  "If I get this kind of reunion every time…I'm leaving you home alone more often."

Gibbs smiled, placing another kiss on Tony's shoulder.  "Could have done this if you'd spent the day here too, you know."  

Tony chuckled.  "I sure as hell hope so."  

Gibbs reluctantly released his hold and took a careful half step back.  He kicked free of his pants, ruefully wondering how he'd managed not to fall on his ass.  

Tony straightened up, and raised his arms over his head in a spine popping stretch.  Gibbs stared, mesmerized by the play of muscle and bone. He shook his head.  If he were younger, he'd have been hard again just watching Tony move.  

"You wanna clean up the mess here and join me in the shower?"  Tony asked, half-turning to look at Gibbs.  Green eyes flickered to the cum splatter on the side of the island.  "Or I can clean up and you can go warm up the show."

"I'll warm up the shower."  Gibbs gave his lover a quick smile.  Tony knew Gibbs liked the water cooler than he did, and to his surprise, Tony never complained about the temperature when he picked something less than his lovers preferred 'hot enough to scald'.  

Gibbs had taken to stocking Tony's brand of soap and shampoo.  He found he liked the fragrance of both.  And he liked knowing they smelled like each other.  It was a subtle mark of ownership; Gibbs enjoyed knowing he could get away with at least that since marking Tony as his in a more obvious fashion really wasn't an option.  

Tony slid the glass door back, and stepped in behind him.  "Want me to wash your back?"

"Please."  

Tony never just washed his back.  Those clever, talented fingers always worked in a massage at the same time.  Gibbs sighed when Tony's hands started kneading the sore muscles of his shoulders.  

"You really should take a break now and then when you work on the boat, Boss."

"Yeah."  He knew that.  It wasn't like he lost track of time on purpose.  It just happened.  

He flinched when Tony found a particularly tender spot.  Tony immediately lightened his touch.  "Sorry."

"It's okay."  Gibbs knew from past experience the best massages were sometimes a little painful.  Sometimes that was what it took to get rid of the knots.

"You get Ernie's garage cleaned out?"  He asked, relaxing as he could feel his neck and shoulders unkink under Tony's continued efforts.

Tony laughed softly.  "In a manner of speaking."

Gibbs could feel both eyebrows rise.  "Which means what exactly?"

"Well," Tony drew out that word slowly, "there was really only one thing he wanted to get rid of."

Gibbs blinked.  So cleaning the garage had been just a ploy to get Tony to visit.  Not that a ploy seemed to be needed if Tony was in contact with Ernie as often as the old Marine had said.  "So…what did he want to get rid of?"

"His car."

Gibbs turned around to look at Tony.  "His car?"  

"Yeah."  Tony grinned, affection and disbelief were evident in his tone and his expression.  "A 1966 Mustang, Boss.  Can you believe it?"  

Gibbs didn't know anything about cars, from the look on Tony's face the idea of getting rid of a 66 Mustang was unfathomable.  "It still runs?"

"Run?"  Tony gave him a disgusted look.  "It purrs, Jethro."  Tony's face adopted a dreamy expression, eyes half closed, a soft smile forming.  "She's pristine.  Probably looks better than she did the day he bought her and runs even better."

"He gave it to you?"  Gibbs asked even though he was fairly certain he was right.  

Tony shook his head in denial.  "He wanted to."

Gibbs arched an eyebrow.  "You didn't want it?"

"Are you nuts?  Of course I want her."  Tony rolled his eyes.  "But I can't let him give me something like that.  Jesus, Gibbs, do you have any idea what that car is worth?"

His lover knew he didn't know or care enough about cars to be able to answer so the question had to be rhetorical.  But from the way Tony asked, Gibbs guessed it was worth a lot.

Tony sighed heavily.  He rubbed a hand over his face and through his wet hair.  "Ernie's on a fixed income that barely meets his needs now.  I couldn't let him give me something that selling could let him live a lot more comfortably.  You get that right?"

Gibbs nodded.  He should have realized Tony would see it that way.  No matter what sort of love at first sight feelings he had for the car, Tony wouldn't do anything that would leave someone he considered a friend high and dry.

Ernie must have been so disappointed, Gibbs thought.  It was obvious Tony loved the car being offered, so it was probably hard for Ernie to understand why he wouldn't take it. He opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when Tony grinned at him.  

"Couldn't let him give it to me, but doesn't mean I couldn't pay him for it."  Tony laughed softly.  "I told him I'd buy her instead."

"Buy it?"

Tony nodded, still grinning.  Suddenly Gibbs didn't think Tony's remark about what a 66 Mustang was worth was a rhetorical question.  If Tony hadn't been willing to just take the car when offered, Gibbs couldn't see him paying Ernie less than he thought it was worth either.  "Can you afford-"

Tony waved a hand in dismissal.  "I still have the insurance check from the Vette."

Gibbs had no idea what the blue book value on the Vette was or what Tony had it insured for.  He had an idea that the car had been worth more for sentimental reasons than monetary, but he'd never asked outright.  It didn't seem right to ask for details about Tony's past if he wasn't willing to return the favor and offer details from his own.  And Gibbs was still worried he might reveal he knew far more about his lover's childhood than Tony would probably want him to know.

"Ernie said he's thought about this, but I wanted him to be really sure. I'm pretty sure he won't change his mind, but I still want him to have that option.  He's had her longer than I've been alive--"  Tony shrugged one shoulder and made a meaningless gesture with his hand, finishing the sentence rather eloquently by leaving it hanging.  

"It's a lot to let go of," Gibbs murmured, appreciating how hard it would be to give away something owned for so long.  If Ernie regarded the car as being as special as Tony evidently did, he had to have a lot of memories wrapped up in it.   

"Definitely."  Tony nodded, clearly following Gibbs' thoughts.  "I told him if he was still sure about the deal that we'd be by to pick her up next weekend.  Hell even if he isn't…you have to see this car, Boss.  She's just gorgeous.  The engine is--"  

Gibbs laid a finger against Tony's mouth, halting the flow of words.  "Next weekend?"

Tony pulled back enough to speak.  "I mean, if we don't have a case.  Or I can always take a cab over or something if you'd-"

"It's fine, Tony."  Gibbs realized his request for clarification had come out wrong. He hadn't meant to make Tony feel like he didn't want to go or wasn't interested.  It still caught him by surprise sometimes how insecure about some things his otherwise brash and confident lover could be. "Next weekend is fine."

"Cool."  Tony smiled broadly.  "Thanks."

He leaned in and gave Tony a quick kiss.  "We better hurry up and finish in here before all the hot water runs out."

Tony snickered.  "Hey, I'm not the one who started all the talking."

Gibbs laughed, and very lightly bopped Tony on the forehead. "Let me do your back."

"Sure."  

They shifted around each other, moving easily in spite of the confining space. Languid movements gave way to brisk and efficient but were never cold or impersonal.  Gibbs was glad he'd installed a larger water heater.  He found he no longer cared to shower alone any more than he liked to sleep alone.  

Gibbs turned off the water when they were finished.  He handed Tony a towel before grabbing one for himself.  He grimaced, missing the heated towel rack at Tony's place.  

"Tomorrow we're going to pick up one of those for here."  

He hadn't realized he'd spoke aloud until Tony looked at him in askance.  "What?"

"A heated towel rack."  Gibbs' chin came up in a silent challenge, daring Tony to comment.  "I want one."

Tony dipped his head in an abbreviated bow, manfully suppressing the smile Gibbs knew wanted to break free.  "Sure thing, Boss."  

Tony's stomach rumbled.  Gibbs arched an eyebrow.  "Another country heard from."

Tony shrugged.  "I'm a growing boy."  He finished drying off, hanging the damp towel neatly on the rack.  

"Besides, we need to eat to keep our strength up for later." He gave Gibbs a lascivious look over his shoulder as he headed out of the bathroom completely naked, hips swaying in a blatant invitation.

Gibbs closed his eyes, and took a slow deep breath, struggling for control.  First, they'd eat.  Then he could nail Tony to the mattress.  Or maybe Tony would nail him.  Either or both would do.

Tony glanced at the clock.  Another few minutes and the day would be over.  And damn what a long, boring day it had been, Tony thought with a silent sigh.  

Paula was back aboard ship somewhere.  Tony was genuinely sorry to see her leave.  She was fun to talk to, and to tease.  It was what he'd found attractive about her to begin with.   

He was also sorry to see her leave because that meant the Director would be pushing harder for Gibbs to replace Kate.  Sheppard had been pushing ever since she'd taken the job.  Gibbs was resisting fiercely, but Tony knew his boss would lose.  He'd seen enough politics growing up to know how pissing contests always worked out.  Top dog always won, and in this case she was top dog.

Sheppard might be new, but she definitely knew how to wield her authority and play hardball when she had to.  She'd made sure the SecNav was around to order Gibbs to interview Boone when Gibbs had turned down the governor.  Gibbs being forced to do something he'd flatly refused to do wasn't something Tony had ever expected to witness.  Tony had a new appreciation for just how crafty and determined Sheppard was.  

Not that he'd said anything to Gibbs.  He was too smart to tell the older man his money was on the Director deciding when they'd end up with a new team member.  He didn't think Gibbs would take it well.  

If they got lucky, they'd have some say in who would replace Kate.  Tony didn't have much faith in luck.  He was betting on Sheppard picking for the team.  He just hoped like hell whoever it was would be at least as good an agent as Kate had been.  

The ringing of his cell phone pulled Tony from his reverie.  He eyed the caller ID before grinning.  "Hey, Joe.  What's up?"

Joe was a frat brother, one of the three he stayed in touch with regularly.  The other two, Vinnie and Mark had gone to spring break with Tony last year.  Getting together had been a blast.  

If his teammates had known how they'd truly spent the weekend, they wouldn't have believed it, which was why he let them assume his time had been spent chasing Co-eds and drinking.   In reality there had been only one night of serious drinking.  Most of the time was spent reminiscing and catching up with each others' lives, goofing off at the beach playing volleyball, body surfing, and building one hell of a sand sculpture.  Vinnie was a conceptual architect and no trip to the beach was ever complete without attempting to construct something monumental.  Last time it had been a 1/50th scale model of the Tower of London.  This time it was the Jefferson Memorial.

"Tony."  The smile was evident in Joe's rich baritone.  "Man, it's good to hear your voice..  Been way too long."  

"That it has."  Joe was a lot like the older brother Tony wanted when he was growing up.  They didn't get together nearly as often as either man would like.  "How's Gloria?"

"Gloria is just fine.  As always."  Joe chuckled.  Tony had been the one to introduce them.  They were a great couple, and some day Tony was sure they'd get around to tying the knot.  

"Hey, man, reason I called is because I wanted to know if you're free this weekend?"

"Maybe."  Could be some day was sooner than I thought, Tony grinned.  "Why?"

"Max is going to do it."

"It?"  Tony frowned in confusion.

"He asked the wicked witch to marry him."

"No way."  Tony knew his mouth was hanging open.  He didn't care.  He was just too stunned. Max had appalling taste in women, and the girl he'd been dating for the past two years hated all his friends, didn't like his family, and didn't seem at all interested in Max's hobbies.  

"Way."  Tony could easily picture Joe shaking his head in dismay.  

"How drunk was he?"

"Sober as a judge."  Joe snorted.  

"Damn."

"Exactly."  Joe chuckled.  "Figured we should get together before she sets a date.  You know it'll be the last time we see him.  And we should send him off right."

Tony would have liked to accuse Joe of being overly dramatic, but he knew better.  It wasn't really a huge loss.  Tony liked Max, but he wasn't as close to him as he was to Joe, Vinnie and Mark. Never seeing any one of those three again would be devastating.

"I'll have to get back to you about getting together, " Tony told his friend.  He still had plans to pick up the Mustang.  Tonight in fact, after work.  Ernie had called and wanted him and Gibbs to come for dinner.  

"You got a date?"

"Something like that," Tony admitted with a smile.  

He'd told Joe he had been seeing someone regularly for the past few months, but he hadn't mentioned a name or gender.  Joe was one of the few people who Tony had told he was bisexual.  His friend hadn't even batted an eye.  But then Joe had an uncle who'd been in a long term relationship with another man, and a stepsister who was a Lesbian.  He was a pretty open minded guy.  

"Same one you been seeing?"

"Yeah."

"Good for you."  The warmth in Joe's voice was unmistakable.  "Bout time you got yourself a good one."  

"Thanks."  It was nice to know someone was happy for him.

"One of these days you'll have to introduce us."  

Tony winced.  Yeah, one of these days he would.  He just wasn't sure Gibbs would like his friends.  Or that his friends would like Gibbs.  He'd wait a bit longer on that.  Until he was sure Gibbs was really planning to keep him around for the long haul.  They hadn't even made six months yet.  It was way too soon to start trying to merge their lives more completely….no matter how much he wanted to.  

"If it works out…I'll introduce you."  Tony promised, knowing Joe wouldn't be put off with anything less.  

"Fair enough."  Joe accepted the promise and the caveat easily.  He always knew when to push and went to let got.  It was one of the reasons Joe was a damn good psychiatrist.  Joe chuckled.  "Hopefully it will happen sometime before I'm old and gray."

Tony snickered.  "Rate you're losing your hair man, I'm thinking gray won't be a problem."

"Oh shut the hell up."  Good humor carried through Joe's tone easily.   Joe's hair had started to thin even before they'd graduated.  But it had never bothered him much. He'd just kept it buzzed short enough to make a Marine proud.   "Gloria thinks I'm sexy bald."

"She's biased."

"Your point?"

"Don't let her get away."  

"Don't plan to."  That last was as much a promise as a statement of intent.  "Call me?"

"Will do."  Tony was already making a note in his PDA to remind himself to call Joe tomorrow at the latest.  He'd check with Gibbs and make sure there wasn't anything else his lover had planned for the weekend.  They didn't spend every day together.  Although, lately they spent more time together than they did apart, Tony never just assumed he'd be welcome.    

"Take care of yourself, brother."

"Yeah. You too."

"Always.  Later."

Tony snapped his phone shut, still smiling.  McGee was looking at him in askance.  Tony shrugged one shoulder, "College buddy."

McGee nodded.  "This the guy who can do handstands on the rings?"

"No.  That's 'T'."  Tony couldn't help grinning at the idea of Joe doing anything even remotely related to gymnastics.  He was taller than Tony and a good fifty pounds heavier.  Joe wasn't fat, he was solid, and definitely not the sort anyone would expect to do a floor routine.

"What's tea?"  Gibbs asked, rounding the corner, startling both of them.  "Besides a piss poor substitute for coffee?"

"Not the drink, Boss."  McGee offered before snapping his mouth shut, clearly thinking better of having spoken at all.

Gibbs raised both eyebrows.  He eyeballed McGee clearly wanting more information.  Tony shook his head.  "'T' is a nickname for a friend of mine, Boss."

"His nickname is a letter?"

"His real name is Thomas Thompson the third." Tony shrugged one shoulder.  

Gibbs pursed his lips.  "Can see why he'd rather use a letter than that name."

 "Yeah."  Tony always figured T's father was a sadistic man to pass on that kind of torture.  

"Anything happen while I was in with the Director?"

"No."  They hadn't gotten a call since dealing with Boone.  Tony suspected that was part of the Director's influence showing.  Tony had a bet with McGee they wouldn't get a case until they got a new agent.

"Okay, then. Let's call it a day."  

McGee didn't even bat an eye.  It was a sure sign to Tony that the junior agent had something to do tonight too.  

"Have fun, Probie."  Tony grinned.  "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

McGee rolled his eyes.  "Is there anything you wouldn't do?"

"It's definitely a short list."  Tony laughed, waving at his friend as the other man grabbed his back pack and headed out.  He turned back to Gibbs.  "You ready to go?"

"Yes."  Gibbs powered down his computer.  "Rental agency pick up the sedan?"

Tony shrugged into his jacket, pocketing his cell phone.  "They got it at noon." He wasn't sorry to see it go.  It had been a serviceable vehicle, it just wasn't his.  Not really.   

Gibbs grabbed his own coat, folding it over his arm.  Tony fell into step with him.  He was often tempted to hit the stop button on the elevator and sneak a kiss but refrained.  He couldn't afford to get a hard on every time he stepped into the thing.  

He saw Gibbs reaching for the button, but the older man pulled his hand back with as sigh.  Tony stifled a smile.  It was nice to know it wasn't just him.

He followed Gibbs off the elevator when they got to the garage.  Tony slid into the passenger seat, securing his seatbelt out of habit.  He never rode without the thing, especially not when Gibbs was driving.

"Ernie is expecting us around six, right?"

Tony nodded.  "Told him if we were going to be late, or couldn't make it, I'd call."  With the job it was impossible to know when something might come up.  Although, given the Director's latest control effort, Tony hadn't been surprised the week was as slow as it had been.  

He wanted to ask how Gibbs' meeting with her had gone, but neatly reined in that question.  Tony had made a point of not asking for information when it came to Sheppard.  It didn't seem wise to bring her up.  She was part of Gibbs' past, and the older man rarely confided much about his past to anyone.  

It was something Tony tried to accept.  He wasn't willing to push the boundaries Gibbs had established.  The innate fear he might go too far, might do irreparable damage, always lurked in the back of his mind.  He didn't want to appear needy, demanding or pushy.  

Wanting too much never failed to kill a relationship.  Tony knew that first hand.  And there was a lot about his past he hadn't shared with Gibbs either.  It didn't seem fair to ask if he wasn't equally willing to share.

"It'll be good to see Ernie again."  Gibbs smiled as he deftly worked his way through traffic.

Tony hadn't realized until last weekend that Gibbs hadn't known he stayed in touch with the old Marine.  He just assumed Gibbs knew and hadn't seen any need to comment on it.  It wasn't like Tony had hidden his contact with Ernie.

In a way Tony was glad Gibbs hadn't stayed in touch with Ernie.  It made Ernie a friend of Tony's, someone he knew his lover could relate to and would like.  Kind of the way Tony knew Ducky was Gibbs' friend and liked him.

Tony was ready to offer directions if Gibbs needed them, but he didn't think his lover would.  The older man knew the area like he knew the back of his hand.  It had initially impressed Tony, but now he took it for granted.

Tony grinned when Gibbs cursed a driver in front of them before swerving into the other lane to accelerate around the other car.  The former cop wondered sometimes if a warning shouldn't go out every time Gibbs got behind the wheel.  

"Shut up."

Tony laughed.  "I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Yeah."  Tony admitted, still laughing.  "We aren't on a case, Boss.  Ernie won't care of we aren't there exactly at six."

"It's rude not to show up on time."

Tony snorted.  "Dieing en route would be worse, I think."

"I'm not that bad."

"Thinking that the little old lady in the Intrepid might disagree."  

"The speed limit is fifty-five," Gibbs pointed to the sign posting the speed limit.  "People who can't do at least that shouldn't be on the road."

"Yeah, and a double yellow line usually means no passing."  Tony bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.  He loved playing like this, but rarely got the chance to do it with Gibbs.

Gibbs snorted, but his eyes twinkled. "Those lines are just a suggestion."

"Right. A suggestion."  Tony arched an eyebrow.  "That would be why cops are authorized to write tickets for doing what you just did."

"I haven't had a traffic ticket in over twenty years."

"Twenty years?"  Tony blinked.  "Hunh…I figured you had a drawer full of them somewhere."

Gibbs reached over to lightly cuff the back of Tony's head.  "I am NOT that bad."

"If you say so."  Tony was still grinning.

"I say so."  Gibbs retorted with a hard look that was ruined by the smile Tony could see lurking at the corners of his mouth.

They pulled into Ernie's drive way, next to where the Mustang sat.  Tony sighed, eyes lovingly tracing the clean lines of the car.  She was beautiful.  He might have to consider getting her repainted.  Green wasn't really his color, but it looked good on her.  

"So that's the car?" Gibbs asked.

"Isn't she pretty?"  Tony grinned, getting out of Gibbs' car.  "Wait until you hear her purr, Boss.  She was born to run."  His fingertips caressed the Mustang's fender, appreciating the smooth finish and aerodynamic line.  

"Love to run, don't you baby?" Tony asked the car softly.

"It's a car, DiNozzo."  Gibbs sounded amused, his arms crossed over his chest. "It's not alive."

Tony rolled his eyes.  "And your boat is just wood, right?"

Gibbs paused, head cocked to one side, clearly thinking about the question.  "Point."

Tony nodded, pleased they had established some sort of common reference.  He didn't expect Gibbs to get excited about the Mustang, but he did want his lover to show her the respect she deserved.  She was a classic, not some run of the mill clunker.  

Tony looked up when the front door opened.  Ernie stepped out, a grin on his face.  "About time you got here.  Was beginning to think you'd changed your mind."

Tony snorted.  "Oh yeah, like that would happen."  He grinned, once more looking at the car.  "She's perfect."

"Yeah, she is."  Ernie agreed with a warm smile.  Tony looked for any signs of regret or second thoughts on the older man's part, and was relieved when he didn't find any.

"Good to see you again, Gibbs."

"Likewise, Ernie."  Gibbs held out his hand, getting a firm shake in return.  

"C'mon inside."  Ernie pointed to the house over his shoulder with his thumb.  "Dinner should be about ready."

Tony was curious what dinner would be.  Dorothy had done most of the cooking when she was alive.  Since she died Ernie preferred to simply eat out or live on frozen entrees.  Even with Gibbs stopping by his apartment, they still couldn't eat everything Louisa made, so rather than let it go to waste, Tony had taken to bringing the extra to Ernie.  At least that way he was sure the older man was getting something decent to eat once in awhile.

Stepping inside Tony took a deep breath.  "Lasagna?"  Tony smiled.  "Smells good."

 "Dorothy's recipe."  Ernie shrugged one shoulder, self-effacing.  Tony had a feeling the older man had probably read the directions at least a dozen times before actually daring to make it.  Tony thought the new challenge was good for Ernie.  It gave the older man something to focus on and still feel like he could learn a new trick or two.  

Ernie held out a hand, and Tony automatically slipped out of his jacket, giving it to Ernie to hang up.  Gibbs had left his coat in the car.  The man rarely seemed to need one, but Tony had noticed he always had one on hand.  He assumed it was just a matter of always being prepared.  

"You boys want something to drink?"

"Sure."  Tony agreed easily.  Gibbs seemed a bit thrown for a second by being lumped in with Tony as one of the 'boys'.  He grinned before nodding once, accepting the offer.

"He makes them a little strong," Tony warned Gibbs with a near silent whisper as Ernie headed for the small bar at the other end of the living room.  

"I can handle my liquor."  Gibbs shot back just as quietly with an amused expression.

"Just giving you fair warning." Tony shrugged one shoulder.  The first time Tony had stopped by to visit Ernie after settling the issue of what happened on Iwo Jima, he'd ended up spending the night.  Just two of the old Marine's drinks were enough to make him question his ability to drive.  

Ernie offered them both a glass.  Tony knew the high quality cut crystal had been a wedding present.  Ernie said Dorothy had insisted they make use of the glasses rather than putting them away to collect dust and seen only on special occasions.  The set was now far from complete, but Tony was pretty sure Dorothy would have considered good memories a fair trade for broken glass.  His own mother, and even his step mother, would never have seen the value of that trade.  

"How are things at NCIS?"

The question was directed at Gibbs, so Tony let his boss answer.  He liked hearing Gibbs' take on things.  They often saw things from completely different ends of the spectrum.  

It was reassuring to hear Gibbs comment on their new director and not sound impressed by her.  Abby hadn't thought much of her, and McGee was basically mum on her.  Until now Tony wasn't sure how Gibbs felt about her.  

"You find it hard taking orders from a woman?"  Ernie asked.  It was an honest question, not chauvinistic or insulting.

Gibbs grimaced.  "I've been married three times."

"Thinking that might be a yes then."  Ernie barked out a laugh.  "If you could handle taking orders from one you'd still be married."  He grinned looking toward Tony.  "What about you, Kid?"

"I still get my marching orders from him."  Tony pointed to Gibbs with his thumb.  "But I don't have any issues with women in charge."  It wasn't Sheppard's gender that had him disliking her.  No, it was her claim to a past with Gibbs that Tony knew nothing about which made it hard to like her.

Conversation between Gibbs and Ernie flowed easily into casual reminiscing about the Corps.  Tony didn't mind that the topic excluded him slightly.  He liked listening to them talk, and it wasn't something either man could really talk to him about and expect him to fully understand.

In spite of being marginally closer in age, having served and seen combat, Ernie and Tony had more in common than Gibbs and Ernie did.  Tony's love of old movies, classic cars and willingness to listen to stories about the good old days gave them a lot of common ground to cover.  If Tony had a tendency to treat Ernie like the grandfather he'd never gotten to know, Ernie balanced it by treating Tony like the grandson he'd never had.  

The oven buzzer sounded softly.  Ernie grinned, setting down his drink.  "Dinner."

"You need me to set the table?" Tony asked.  It had become his usual task whenever he managed to stop by for dinner.  

Ernie nodded.  "You know where everything is."

Tony took his drink with him, leaving it at his usual place at the table.  He had only sipped it cautiously and probably wouldn't finish it until after dinner.  Gibbs trailed after him, helping to set the table as though they had done this dozens of time before.  

Tony grinned, noting the level of liquid in Gibbs' glass.  His lover hadn't done more than sip his drink either.  

"You were right."  Gibbs smiled at him and shrugged one shoulder.  

Tony chuckled quietly.  It was rare that he heard Gibbs say that.  He could count on one hand in fact the number of times he'd heard it.  "Hurt to say?"

"No."  Gibbs' smile broadened.  Tony nodded, accepting the answer and letting it go at that.  

Ernie had done a good job with the Lasagna.  And the garlic bread.  Tony complimented him on mastering his wife's recipe.

"My Dorothy was a hell of a cook."  Ernie stated with obvious pride.  He liked talking about his wife, and Tony encouraged him to do so.  Some day he hoped to be able to talk about Kate with the same sense of affection and pride, without pain or guilt.  

Dinner was a light-hearted affair.  It made Tony glad Gibbs had agreed.  Ernie didn't have that many friends to interact with; most of them had either passed on or lived out of the area.  Tony wanted the older man to have someone else to talk to if he wasn't around.  

They lingered over their drinks, laughing and talking about everything from politics to the weather.  Tony glanced at his watch surprised to find they'd been sitting at the table for nearly two hours.   He shook his head.  Losing track of time around Ernie was something of a habit.  

"Better get what's left in the fridge."  Ernie said, covering a small yawn.  Tony knew the two drinks Ernie had consumed to their one were probably one of the reasons the older man was starting to run out of steam.  

Unlike with his father, Tony didn't mind that Ernie drank.  The older man wasn't violent, sarcastic or dismissive when he was drinking; Tony never doubted that his presence was welcome.  Tony suspected that unlike his father Ernie only really started drinking regularly in the evenings after his wife died.  He hadn't used it as a lifelong crutch.  

Tony knew Ernie started his day early.  It was as much a matter of habit for him as it was for Tony and Gibbs.  Being retired hadn't changed that lifelong habit.  It made for a long day.

Tony and Gibbs both helped clear the table, ignoring Ernie's protests.  "You cooked.  We clean."  Tony told him with a quick grin.  Ernie rolled his eyes but didn't protest.  

While Gibbs was straightening the table, Tony handed Ernie a check.  The older man didn't even look at the amount, he simply pocketed it.  

"You don't cash that, I'll know."  Tony reminded him quietly.  He wouldn't put it past the older man to simply not cash it on purpose.

Ernie gave Tony an exasperated look.  "I already got plans for it."

"Good."  

Ernie tossed Tony the keys.  The key chain was a Marine Corps emblem.  Tony grinned.  He'd be keeping that.

Ernie clapped him on the shoulder, ushering him to where Gibbs waited.  "We should do this again."

"We will." Gibbs said with a smile, giving Ernie's hand another firm shake.  

Tony shrugged into his jacket. "I'll call you this week."

Ernie nodded.  "You take good care of her."

"I will."  Tony gave the older man a quick hug, slapping him lightly on the back as he pulled away. "Stay out of trouble, you hear?"

"I don't get into trouble, Kid, that's your job."  Ernie laughed.  He pointed his finger at both of them.  "You be careful driving home."

"Will do."
"Goodnight, Ernie."  Gibbs stepped out on to the porch.

Ernie held open the door, leaning against it.  "Goodnight."  

Tony patted his shoulder again. Ernie smiled.  "Enjoy your new ride."

Tony grinned.  "How could I not?"  He waved once as he headed for the Mustang, watching as Ernie closed the door.

"I'll follow you."  Tony said softly, nodding once to Gibbs as he passed him.  His lover smiled and nodded.  

He still had to ask Gibbs about the rest of the weekend, but for now all Tony really wanted to do was drive his new car.  Tony grinned.  Sliding into the driver's seat was like coming home….familiar and comfortable.  

The engine came to life with a soft growl.   "Hello, baby." Tony pet the steering wheel, lightly stroking the leather.  "Ready to go see your new home?"

He knew other people would think he was being silly or stupid talking to the car, but Tony didn't care.  She wasn't just a car, any more than Ernie was just some guy.  She already had a lot of memories invested in her.  Tony was looking forward to investing a few more.

Tony wondered if he could persuade Gibbs that having sex in a car wasn't just for teenagers.  Tony laughed quietly.  It would be fun trying to convince him.  

Gibbs sighed.  He'd been staring up at the ceiling for the last hour.  He rolled over on his side, hugging Tony's pillow to his chest.  He wasn't sure when the pillow actually became Tony's, but it had to have been about the same time that side of the bed became his as well.  

Gibbs breathed in deeply, seeking traces of his lover's scent on the obscenely expensive linens Tony had brought over to his place about a month after they started seeing one another.  Until then, Gibbs hadn't realized thread count made a difference.  Now, he couldn't imagine sleeping on the cheap cotton sheets he still had in the closet somewhere.

Not that he was sleeping much now anyway.  God, he hated sleeping alone.  He missed Tony's warmth.  The younger man radiated heat like a furnace.  He missed the sound of Tony's deep, even breathing.  It still amazed him that Tony didn't snore, or at least not often, but then Tony had a tendency to curl into him, sleeping on his side most of the time.  He missed the sense of peace that seemed to wrap itself around Tony when he was down for the count.  

Gibbs shook his head.  It was stupid.  He'd been able to sleep alone before.  Admittedly, he never slept well, but he'd done it.  

He rolled over, trying his right side.  He should have lied when Tony asked if he had anything planned for the weekend.  Should have made something up that would have kept his lover at home.  But he'd answered honestly when Tony asked.  "No, no plans.  Why?"

He thought Tony was going to suggest they do something together.  Instead Tony mentioned getting an invitation to get together with some of his college fraternity buddies.  They were the same guys Tony had been on spring break with.  

Gibbs had worked hard to squash his instinctive jealous reaction.  Refusing to let Tony see his friends would have been stupid and hurtful. Gibbs didn't like thinking of himself as being that petty or controlling.  

He also had to stifle the strange feeling of being left out.  He wanted to meet Tony's friends but was leery of pushing for an invitation.  How the hell was Tony supposed to explain his presence?  

"Well, he could tell them I was his lover," Gibbs muttered to himself, snorting at his own insecurity.  He didn't even know if these friends knew Tony played for both teams.  Although, he suspected at least one of them had to know.  He couldn't imagine Tony keeping everything about himself a secret from guys he'd stayed in touch with for so long.

Gibbs grimaced.  And why the hell did they have to meet up in Baltimore of all places? Why couldn't it be here?  Where he'd know Tony was okay.  

He could hear Tony's voice in his head answering those questions when he'd asked them aloud earlier.  "Baltimore is kind of central, Boss.  Joe lives just outside the city limits, about half an hour from the airport.  Vinnie is in New York and Mark's in Pittsburg.  Max lives in Richmond, T is in Phillie and John just moved to Shepherdstown."

He could see Tony smiling.  "Joe's got this big old house he inherited from his grandparents.  It's got room enough for everyone to stay."  

Gibbs frowned remembering the next bit.  "Being closer to Joe was one of the reasons I took the job in Baltimore."

So who the hell was this Joe?  Gibbs resisted the urge to do a background check.  If the man was someone Tony was in love with, Gibbs didn't think he'd have ever been able to woo Tony away from Baltimore in the first place.  No, he was just a good friend.  A good friend Gibbs had yet to meet.  
 
There was no point in reading too much into that.  He knew Tony wasn't ashamed of him or their relationship.  Hell, when McGee found out about them, Tony was ready to quit a job he loved to protect Gibbs. That wasn't an act of shame or cowardice.  Far from it.  

And it wasn't like Gibbs had gone out of his way to introduce Tony to his friends.  Gibbs grimaced.  Other than guys he'd served with, he didn't have any close friends.  And somehow he couldn't see his Marine buddies being accepting of his younger, male lover.  Not when they didn't know he swung that way.  The shock alone would probably guarantee they wouldn't accept Tony.

There was Ducky though.  He and Tony seemed to get along well.  Gibbs grinned.  That had to count for something.  Hell, Tony handled Mrs. Mallard and her pack of Corgis better than Gibbs did.  

Gibbs sighed deeply, glancing at the clock.  It was early for him to be in bed, but he'd hoped to maybe fool himself into getting a few solid hours.  Working on the boat didn't hold any appeal.  He'd already spent several hours on her and his back was telling him that was plenty.  He hated watching TV alone, too used to Tony's presence to enjoy mindless entertainment on his own.  He'd left his reading glasses at Tony's place and didn't feel like digging around for the spare pair he had lost somewhere in the house.

The ringing of the phone startled him.  It was the landline not his cell.  He reached for it, picking up on the second ring.

"Gibbs."

"Hey, it's just me."

Gibbs smiled.  It was good to hear Tony's voice.  "You made it okay?"

"Yeah.  Got in hours ago."  There was a note of apology in Tony's voice.  "Sort of lost track of time."

"Figured it might be something like that."  Gibbs kept it low key.  He didn't want to make a big deal out of Tony having left at ten in the morning and how he hadn't bothered to call until nearly twelve hours later.
  
It wasn't like Tony had promised to call.  Gibbs was not going to act as though he'd been pining away like some love sick fool.  He sure as hell wasn't going to admit to waiting around hoping to hear the phone ring; it was too juvenile.  He also wasn't going to say anything about the police scanner being on most of the day and his listening for any reports of accidents.  

"Everyone else get there okay?"  It was only polite to ask.  

"Everyone but Mark.  We have to pick him up at the airport soon."  Tony laughed.  "I can't wait to hear exactly what happened that he had to take a late flight."  

Tony had mentioned that Mark habitually had travel issues.   Delayed flights, lost luggage, and messed up reservations seemed to be the norm.  It was one of the reasons he was never allowed to make plans for the rest of the group.

"Once we get Mark, we'll meet up with Max, John and T.  They're already at my favorite old haunt, holding down the fort for us."

Gibbs winced. He mentally translated 'favorite old haunt' to strip club.  His hand clenched around the phone.

"Can't wait to find out if Vinnie is any better at pool.  He says he's been practicing."  Tony snickered.  "How the man can understand geometry and physics so well and not grasp the basics of angles and force with balls on a felt table is a mystery."

Gibbs' eyebrows rose.  Pool?  Did they have pool tables at strip clubs?  He didn't think so.

"Mark said he was bringing his darts."  Gibbs could hear the anticipation in Tony's voice. "John and T both joined a steel dart league last year.  Still pretty sure I can kick their asses…all that time on the firing range pays off in more than one way."  

Steel darts?  Most bars didn't even have real dartboards any more, opting for the electronic ones that used darts with a plastic tip and kept score for the players. They definitely weren't going to a strip club.  Gibbs breathed a silent sigh of relief.  Tony hadn't given him any reason to worry, but he couldn't help feeling just a bit uneasy at the thought of Tony around scantily clad women.  

"Sounds like fun."  Gibbs clamped down on the instinctive desire to say he'd wished he was there.  

"Usually is."  There was no mistaking the smile in Tony's voice.  

There was a slight pause on the line and Gibbs heard Tony take a deep breath.  "I…ah…I was thinking of spending Sunday night up here too."  

"Oh?"  Tony hadn't mentioned that when he left.  Gibbs had been expecting him back tomorrow.  

"Yeah."  Another small hesitation.  Gibbs could almost picture his lover fidgeting.  "I don't really get to see these guys all that often and well, since we don't have a case or anything…I mean, you said we didn't have plans, so I kind of thought it would be okay to spend the whole weekend…I can be in the office Monday morning, no problem…It's only a little over an hour from here to there…but I can always cut it short if you'd rather-"

"Breathe, Tony."  Gibbs ordered softly, halting the stream of words.  "It's okay."  He shook his head.  Did Tony really think he'd begrudge him time with his friends?  Well, he did, but shit, he wasn't going to actually tell his lover no.  He wasn't that much of a bastard that he'd make Tony give up time with people whose company he obviously enjoyed.  

"Monday morning is fine."  Gibbs was proud of himself for sounding relaxed and calm.  It wouldn't do for Tony to know how much it cost him to let the younger man out of his sight for so long.  He'd gone months overseas without seeing his wives, but the thought of two days without Tony seemed like an eternity.  

"Thanks, Jethro," Tony nearly whispered.  The genuine gratitude in that statement made Gibbs very glad he hadn't demanded Tony come home tomorrow or said no to his leaving in the first place.

A rich baritone voice Gibbs didn't recognize filtered easily through the line even though the speaker was probably some distance away.  "Hey, Tony, you done whispering sweet nothings?  We gotta go."  

"Be there in a sec, Joe."  Tony had to have turned his head away from the phone, his voice less distinct and fainter than before.  Gibbs guessed the baritone had to be Joe.  He added it to the short list of things he knew about the man.

"Must be serious about this one."  Another voice, a light tenor with a New England accent.  "Tony's never called one of his sweethearts when we got together before."

Gibbs felt a little surge of warmth and reassurance at finding out Tony's calling him was an exception.  And it didn't hurt to know that Tony's buddies considered him someone special, even though they likely had no idea who the hell Tony was talking to.  

"I have to go."  Tony sounded reluctant to end the conversation.  

"I'll see you Monday."  Gibbs made that statement of fact.  Tony had better be in the office Monday morning or there would be hell to pay.

"I'll make up for lost time when I get back."  Gibbs could almost hear Tony's easy grin. "Promise."

"Looking forward to that."  Gibbs smiled.  Tony didn't have anything to make up for, but Gibbs wasn't foolish enough to turn down a promise like that.  

"Love you," Gibbs said quietly. He didn't want Tony hanging up before he could say it.

There was a minute hesitation on Tony's end before he responded.  "Love you too."

In the time they'd been together, it had gotten easier for Tony to say those words, but he still didn't say them very often.  For all his immature behavior and flippant attitude, Tony really did appreciate the significance and power of words.  Probably better than Gibbs did.  The former Marine treasured those heartfelt words, understanding it wasn't easy for Tony to say them.  The difficulty saying them made Gibbs confident Tony meant them.

"See you Monday, Jethro."  

Gibbs waited for the click that terminated the call before he hung up the phone.  He'd wanted to tell Tony he missed him, but hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.  He didn't want to sound needy or weak.  And he didn't want Tony to feel guilty for enjoying himself.  

Gibbs sighed.  He looked at the clock again.  Giving up on the idea of sleeping, Gibbs got up.  He might as well start looking for his spare pair of reading glasses.  

Gibbs finally located them in the living room atop a small stack of DVD's.  He shook his head.  They were further proof Tony spent a lot of time at his place.

Proof of Tony's presence was everywhere.  The book on the coffee table that Gibbs had been reading was Tony's.  The TV now in his living room was Tony's.  It was not as big or as expensive as the one in Tony's apartment, but it was certainly newer and better quality than Gibbs had ever owned.  The afghan draped over his couch was one Louisa had made for him because he was a friend of Tony's.  The coffee in his fridge was one of Manny's special blends.  Hell, even the linens on his bed were because of Tony's influence.

Gibbs shook his head.  He'd been here when all those things appeared and yet they still surprised him. They were subtle for the most.  Unlike his second wife's penchant for buying expensive status symbols that served no real purpose and cluttered the house, or his third's habit of radical redecorating, nothing Tony had brought to his house was anything Gibbs objected to.

Anyone stopping by his house wouldn't immediately notice the changes, but they were glaringly obvious to Gibbs.  Everything Tony had added made Gibbs' life more comfortable, richer, and definitely better for having him in his life.  

"One of these days I'm going to have to tell him that," Gibbs muttered to himself.  Tony probably already knew, but saying it out loud wouldn't hurt.  He should have done it a long time ago.  

Gibbs picked up the book and sat down on the couch.  He shook out the afghan and tossed it loosely over his legs as he settled in.  Maybe he could sleep out here.  It was definitely better than falling asleep on or under his boat.

Gibbs lightly tapped the cover of the book with one finger.  His thoughts drifted to Monday and just how far away it was. He stopped himself from actually counting the hours.  

Forcing himself away from thinking about Tony, Gibbs opted to think about something else…like finding a replacement for Kate.  No way in hell was he spending another week at the office without something productive to do.  

Sheppard had suggested several people.  Gibbs knew it was an opening gambit.  She was testing the waters to see how open he was to suggestions, trying to pin down who he might be willing to accept on his team.    Not that he expected her to give him a real choice in the matter.  

It was a reason he'd turned everyone down so far as being unsuitable.  He was pushing Sheppard to make her move.  It was obvious she had someone in mind.  Gibbs just wasn't sure who.  God, he hated politics. All this dancing around was a waste of time.

Gibbs wished she understood him better.  How in the hell could they have worked together and slept together with her not understanding him any better than she did?  Tony had worked with him less than a month and knew the boundaries and limits of what he would tolerate, and what he expected of the people around him.  Tony pushed the line deliberately from time to time, but Sheppard didn't even seem to know there was a line.  

Gibbs rubbed his forehead.  It wasn't all one sided.  He didn't understand her either.  She'd been a good field agent.  But being director was a different situation.  He really didn't think she'd be able to stay in MTAC and stay away from field work.  And that would just get…messy.  Politics didn't belong in the field.

Maybe the reason they didn't understand each other was just one of those male female things.  It was as good an explanation as any.  

Gibbs shook his head.  He couldn't see Tony ever brining up a past history in an effort to curry favor or control someone.  Letting her bring up Paris and think it still meant something to him meant she had no reason to suspect him of sleeping with Tony.  Morrow knew enough not to fix something that wasn't broken and wouldn't have questioned the situation if he knew.  Gibbs couldn't see Shepard letting it slide.  No, she'd have Tony reassigned or worse, fired.

Gibbs made a mental note to call Michelle.  Maybe having the woman he knew most of the office had dubbed 'Gibbs' mysterious redhead' visit periodically would keep Shepard from getting any ideas about re-igniting their old flame.  Keeping her off the trail of his relationship with Tony was one thing, but he drew the line at actually giving her any reason to expect they would pick up where they left off.  

He knew getting involved with Tony came with risks.  Gibbs didn't mind the risks, not when the rewards had made it more than worthwhile.  He didn't regret anything, and he didn't plan to start now.

Nodding to himself, Gibbs opened the book.  Come Monday morning, he'd go through the list of candidates again.  He'd pick one and see if he or she worked out.  Maybe a trial run of two weeks or so.  That would be long enough that Shepard couldn't accuse him of not giving the agent a fair chance.  

Picking out a new agent could wait until after he had a chance to touch base with Tony; that would definitely be the first order of business Monday morning. Gibbs grinned. Tony being gone for two days meant he could have one hell of a reunion planned.  It would, of course, have to wait until after work.  All he was liable to get at the office was to see Tony, maybe sneak a quick kiss.  The rest would have to wait, but being a sniper had taught Gibbs the value of patience.  Anticipation would make the reunion that much sweeter.

Gibbs settled more deeply into the couch.  Being without Tony was certainly teaching him the joys of being with him.  It renewed his determination to succeed with this relationship. He was going to get it right this time.  Come hell or high water.

People were always saying three was a lucky number.  It was looking more like four might just be his.   Gibbs smiled.  Yeah, four was definitely his number.

Katherine's NCIS Story Page