Being on desk duty sucked most when the rest of the team was out and about doing fieldwork. Grumbling to himself, Tony contemplated heading down to the lab, but figured that Abby was about ready to start charging him rent and so didn’t. Instead, he headed outside to walk down the block to the coffee shop. Gibbs, Kate and McGee were already on their way back and having hot coffee as stomach-churning strong as Gibbs liked it, could only help when the boss was in a pissy mood.
And shit, was he in a pissy mood.
Tony sighed as he waved to the guard on duty and walked outside. Gibbs had been stuck to his side like a burr for the last two days, though he had as yet to explain why. Knowing that the other agent wouldn’t say anything until he was good and ready to, Tony hadn’t bothered to question him. It was strangely frustrating to them both that Gibbs couldn’t smack Tony on the back of the head, what with the injury.
“I wonder if that makes me a masochist,” Tony wondered thoughtfully as he waited for the light to change.
Being the middle of the afternoon, there weren’t many people out and about, so Tony didn’t have to worry about fighting a crowd. The light finally changed and Tony stepped onto the street to cross it. He was mostly across when the squealing of tires caught his attention. Glancing up, Tony found a car coming right at him and for a split second could only look dumbly at the ton of metal hurtling towards him. Instinct kicked in, though, and he leaped out of the way as best he could.
The edge of the car caught his hip and Tony spun sharply around to land half-on, half-off the sidewalk, his head slamming into the concrete with damning force. Pain seared through his entire body, but consciousness only lasted a few more seconds anyhow.
* * * *
Kate was much, much more worried this time, than she had been the first because she hadn’t truly realized how close to death Tony had come from his beating. Not until Tony was well on his way to recovery. Knowing that the previous head injury hadn’t finished healing before being dealt a devastating blow like a concrete sidewalk, well, it was scaring the shit out of her. The thought that their Tony could be brain-damaged or, worse, brain dead...
Shaking the horrific idea away like an anathema, she glanced over at where Gibbs was occupying the corner of the waiting area, blue eyes locked on the double-doors of the operating room. He’d taken root there upon arrival and didn’t look to be moving until someone came out with news of Tony’s condition.
McGee and Abby were back at the office doing what needed to be done. Thankfully, neither she nor Gibbs were needed at this juncture of the investigation on an embezzling Lieutenant. Though truthfully, Kate knew she’d be taking lead of the team for as long as Tony was in the hospital.
What was left of the team, anyhow.
Ducky returned just then from the nurses’ station, just as grim as when he’d gone to try and sweet-talk his way into an update. Sitting in the chair beside her, he said, “Nothing. There’s no news as to how the operation is going, or how long it will continue. It could be hours longer, or almost over, depending on how bad the skull fracture was.”
Hand to her stomach, Kate whispered, “He has to be okay, Ducky, he does.”
A soothing hand rubbed between her shoulders and Ducky answered, “It’s in God’s hands now, my dear.”
“I know,” she sighed.
“God?”
The single, harsh, bitter word from Gibbs actually caused Kate to flinch, it was filled with so much venom. Looking over at the man, she wasn’t surprised to find no expression on his face whatsoever; the angrier Gibbs was, the more difficult it was to read him.
“Don’t you say that word around here, Dr. Mallard. Or you, Kate. I don’t want your misplaced faith in that feckless, absentee fake anywhere near Tony,” Gibbs snarled, not moving from his spot.
Ducky sighed. “Jethro...”
“No. Not a single, fucking word. Don’t you dare.”
Shocked by the profanity used in Ducky’s hearing, if not her own, Kate could literally find no voice with which to respond. She honestly couldn’t remember hearing Gibbs use anything harsher than damn or hell in all the time they’d worked together. Gibbs had this thing about not swearing in mixed company that was strangely endearing. One of the few things about him that was, in her opinion.
“Excuse me, Special Agent Gibbs? There’s a Director Morrow on the phone for you,” a nurse informed them hesitantly.
Gibbs looked, for a moment, like he was going to curse at her too, but then controlled himself. Giving a sharp nod, he followed her back to the nurses’ station.
“Ducky, he’s going for a meltdown,” Kate observed, officially worried out of her mind about Gibbs now, too.
Ducky sighed again and replied, “He won’t until we know for sure if Tony won’t recover. And if that’s the case, well, I honestly don’t know what to expect.”
“You don’t think that he’d...” the words died off as Kate tried to avoid naming the worst case scenario.
“Eat his gun if Tony dies, or is brain dead?” Ducky finished for her. At her nod, Ducky’s gaze returned to Jethro’s rigid form several meters away. “I wish I knew, Kate, I truly do.”
Ducky wanted to promise that it was going to be all right, Kate could see, but not even he could make that kind of leap in this situation. That Tony had come through the last one as well as he had was something of a miracle in itself.
God, she really wanted Abby beside her just then.
* * * *
Her fingers moved automatically over the keyboard as Abby emotionally tried to keep herself from falling apart. She had to do the job so that Gibbs didn’t have to worry. Gibbs had way too much to worry about with Tony, to spare any attention to the job. Sniffling and wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve, Abby continued to hack into the Lieutenant’s free email account for evidence. Not that it could technically be used in court, but Gibbs had just been looking for anything to bring the arrogant SOB in for questioning on and Abby was going to get it for him.
Though Gibbs wouldn’t be questioning him anymore, Kate would as senior agent.
“How’re you doing?”
Jumping a mile at McGee’s soft question, she snapped, “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
McGee flinched like a kicked puppy, instantly making Abby feel guilty, and apologized, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, McGee, I’m sorry,” Abby countered, wiping her nose again. “It’s just, with Tony, and, and Bossman, and all this crap...I just hate that I’m stuck here. Not that I could do anything at the hospital, but, I’d be there, you know?”
McGee lightly squeezed her shoulder, offering a gentle smile as he encouraged, “Hey, Tony would want to nail this bastard, you know that. And from what I can see on your code, it looks like you’ve almost got him.”
Shifting uncomfortably out of McGee’s grip, Abby nodded and replied, “Yeah. Just about.”
He frowned, observing, “That’s about the tenth time in the last four days that you’ve avoided my touch. What’s going on, Abby?”
Even though breaking up hadn’t been on her list of things to do that day, especially not after the hit-and-run, Abby just couldn’t take it anymore and blurted, “I don’t love you and we really need to officially break up!”
McGee blinked at her a few times, not answering at first. Finally he asked, “Um, okay, what brought this on?”
“I just...” Abby sighed. “It’s...”
“There’s someone else.”
The defeated tone in McGee’s voice told her exactly how often this had happened to him in the past, expanding her guilt. Groaning, Abby thumped her head against the lab counter, unable to look at the hurt expression on his sweet baby-face any longer.
He surprised her by rubbing her back and offering, “I hope he takes good care of you, Abs. You deserve it.”
Feeling even more like a heel, Abby said, “Um, yeah, about that.”
McGee gave her a curious look. “What?”
After taking a deep breath, glad that she and Kate had talked about this already, Abby admitted, “It’s Kate.”
McGee stared at her, dumbstruck. “Uh...huh?”
* * * *
Two hours and thirty-six minutes after arriving at the hospital where Tony had already been in surgery to relieve swelling of the brain by removing a section of his skull, the part that had been cracked on the curb, Dr. Lynn Bailey came out to let them know it was over. Jethro knew the moment that she came through the double doors that the news was bad.
“He’s in a coma,” she announced quietly. “If he makes it through the next twenty-four hours, he’ll survive. What kind of brain damage that will include, we won’t know unless he wakes up.”
Not ‘if’ he has brain damage, but ‘what kind;’ not ‘when’ he wakes up, but ‘unless,’ Jethro thought bleakly to himself.
“Will you allow visitors?” Ducky questioned.
Dr. Bailey looked at Jethro and answered, “You can stay with him, Agent Gibbs, as you’re listed Next of Kin. The two of you will have to limit your visits to five minutes each. I suggest...you should call his parents and any close relatives that he has, and I’m sorry to say this, but you should all be prepared for the worst.”
“You don’t expect him to make it through the night,” Jethro stated.
Meeting his gaze, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. He’s on a respirator right now and that’s the only thing keeping him alive.”
Jethro gave her a lopsided grin and replied, “You don’t know him the way we do, Doc. Tony’s going to pull through this and anything else that gets thrown at him.”
She returned his grin with a gentle, if neutral, smile of her own. “I’ll check on him every hour. If you need me, or if his parents want to speak with me, the nurses can page me.”
Signaling to a nurse, the doctor nodded her goodbyes and left them in the woman’s care. They were brought them into ICU’s waiting area, which was on the same floor as the operating room, and said, “He’s in that room. Don’t forget. Five minutes each, except for Agent Gibbs. Who is...?”
“Me,” Jethro answered. “Don’t worry. The orders will be obeyed.”
She nodded and Jethro crossed the hall and stepped inside Tony’s ICU room. It was a single unit, surprisingly, and for a moment, Jethro couldn’t even see Tony amidst all the tubes and wires and bandages.
“Dear God,” Ducky breathed.
Jethro’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t bother to correct the soft exclamation. Walking to the bed, he sat in the chair beside it, taking Tony’s hand and bringing the palm to his lips, pressing it there. Tony’s head was wrapped almost completely in bandages, only his face visible, and his pelvis was in a large, ungainly cast, the leg in a straight, metal brace to keep it in place. The respirator was a loud, unnatural noise that Jethro instantly hated and then ignored.
“Tony, lad, it’s Ducky. If you can hear me, I want you to stay with us, all right? We aren’t ready to let you go yet, no matter what incarnation your life might have to take,” Ducky said firmly. “Stay here with us. Don’t leave.”
Ducky’s hand came down on Jethro’s shoulder and he looked up at the older man, seeing his real age in the pained lines etched into his friend’s face for the first time in a long time.
“My five minutes are up. I’ll send in Kate,” Ducky said.
Jethro nodded and turned back to Tony, saying, “You heard him, Tony. Everyone wants you to stick around, so you’d better do just that.”
Hearing the door open behind him and Kate’s soft gasp, Jethro kept his eyes firmly on his lover’s oddly peaceful face. If he saw her pain, he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be able to keep it together. Not that he was doing all that great a job of it as it was, but it would go straight down the toilet. Kate didn’t say anything. She simply walked up beside Jethro, bent to kiss Tony’s cheek, and left.
Jethro let out a long, shaky sigh and announced, “It’s just us now, Tony. You and me. I’m only going to say one thing here, and then I’ll let you get some rest. Here it is. If you die, I’m going to find the people who did this to you, kill them, then find a way to join you, wherever you are. Understand me? You’d better, because I mean every single word.”
There was no answer, of course, and Jethro settled in to wait.
* * * *
It was one of the longest nights
of Ducky’s already long life and he sighed as he waited in the uncomfortable
plastic chair in the waiting area. His body felt battered and sore, though he’d
done nothing more than be awake and moving for the last thirty-six hours. It
was almost
“Ducky.”
Startled by Gerald’s voice, Ducky jerked upright and groaned, his hand massaging a now-pulled neck muscle. Offering his lover a wan smile, Ducky motioned him closer and asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Kate called me when you wouldn’t leave,” Gerald said softly, sitting beside Ducky. “She’d thought that you’d told me about Tony.”
Even though his voice was so carefully not accusing, so casually neutral, Ducky knew that the other man was hurt by the exclusion. Sighing a bit, Ducky thought about lying, but discarded the idea just as quickly as it rose. He hadn’t yet lied to Gerald since the start of their relationship and didn’t really want to start. Taking the dark hand in his own, Ducky explained slowly, “It’s an ignorant superstition and I can’t really expect you to understand but...I was trying to keep you safe.”
Gerald frowned at him, brown eyes meeting blue as he thought the words over for a few minutes. Understanding graced his features and Gerald half-smiled as he accurately guessed, “By keeping whatever bad luck that’s touched Gibbs and Tony, from touching me. Ducky. You know better.”
“What can I say, my love? We are a product of our upbringing and, however long ago it was, I grew up in a rural, superstitious hamlet,” Ducky answered helplessly.
Shaking his head, Gerald slid his arm around Ducky’s waist and asked, “When was the last time you checked on them?”
Ducky glanced at his watch. “Fifty-four minutes ago.”
“Which you’ve actually been doing for the last eight hours, according to Kate.”
“Correct.”
“And you were, eventually, planning to come home to me.”
“Well of course!”
Gerald smiled and asked, “So what makes you think you wouldn’t bring the bad luck home with you?”
Opening his mouth to counter the declaration, Ducky instead sighed ruefully and replied, “Logic, I’m afraid, holds no sway over superstition.”
“Maybe not, but you do,” Gerald said firmly. “Don’t do this again. Tony’s my friend, one of my best friends, and he was there for me all during my recovery. I have a right to be here, as much as anyone else does.”
Ducky nodded, sobered by the hurt in his lover’s eyes, and promised, “I won’t. I’m sorry.”
Smiling briefly, Gerald pulled him close and, for the first time since seeing Jethro pale at the office upon receiving the hospital’s call, Ducky allowed himself to relax. Resting his head on Gerald’s broad shoulder, he closed his eyes and whispered, “I feel so helpless.”
A gentle hand brushed through his hair as Gerald kissed his temple and whispered back, “We all do, Ducky, we all do.”
* * * *
Pressing his lips to the motionless fingers, Jethro said, “You know it doesn’t matter what happens, right? That I’m never going to leave you? I don’t care if you’re blind or deaf or paralyzed, Tony. All I want is you. That spark of you that keeps me human. I need that, need you, to keep me from really becoming that bastard I’ve always claimed to be. Without you...”
Jethro tried to clear his throat at the thought of losing Tony, but couldn’t manage it. The tears escaped his control to slip one at a time down his cheeks, stealing his soul with every drop onto the back of Tony’s hand.
“Don’t. Leave. Me.”
Those were the only words he could get out, barely audible and filled with the kind of need he’d always despised in himself. The kind of need that had driven three wives from him. The kind of need that made him feel less...less of a man, less himself, less whole.
Closing his eyes, Jethro rested his forehead on the cast over Tony’s hip, knowing there was no way his lover would feel it through all the plaster. Changing hands, but keeping contact, Jethro put his other arm across Tony’s hips and slid his free hand against the warm, bare skin of his lower abdomen before moving it up to rest over the steadily beating heart.
* * * *
Jethro wasn’t sure what woke him, but his eyes snapped open and he was completely, preternaturally aware of everything around him. He heard the respirator, felt the steady rise and fall of Tony’s chest beneath his hand, smelled that antiseptic hospital smell he hated so fiercely.
Then it happened...Tony’s fingers combed through his hair.
Stifling the pounding fear of what he might see by looking up at his lover, Jethro forced himself to do just that. Instead of a blank stare, a sightless stare, or an unrecognizing, uncomprehending expression, all Jethro found was Tony. A curious, pained, and uncertain Tony, but it was him nonetheless.
Tony’s hand rested on Jethro’s head, fingers moving easily through his short hair, then shifted to cup Jethro’s face. The grip was strong and sure, no tremors or weakness anywhere to be found as Tony palmed the stubble-covered cheek and chin.
Sitting upright, Jethro whispered, “I’ll get the nurse to remove the tube. Don’t go anywhere.”
Tony’s lips twitched, even contorted around the mouthpiece as they were, as if to say, ‘Like I could anyhow?’ in that smart-assed tone they all loved so much.
It took all Jethro had to leave and he had to bend close and kiss Tony first, his mouth lingering at the corner of a bruised eye for several long seconds. Finally regaining some semblance of control, he left the room and looked around for a nurse not on rounds. He found one and said simply, “Tony DiNozzo’s awake and breathing on his own.”
She looked shocked for a moment, then hurried to get a doctor.
Jethro looked for Ducky to discover him sound asleep and draped over Gerald’s lap. Smiling as he approached them, he ordered, “Let him sleep. Tony’s going to be fine.”
Gerald returned his smile with a brilliant one of his own.
* * * *
Tony’s tongue still moved in an effort to dislodge a tube that was no longer present and he scowled at the foul taste that lingered, despite drinking some water to rinse his mouth. Holding his lover’s hand, Tony found that he felt better than he had in a long time, even with the ache in his hip where he’d connected with the car. It was probably the drugs, but he had no headache whatsoever, or any other side-effects that a new head injury should bring.
“Frankly, there is no explanation,” Dr. Bailey finished after a long, technical discussion that Tony was sure only Ducky had followed. “It’s a miracle. You should be dead, Agent DiNozzo.”
Grinning at her, Tony flirted, “I bet you say that to all the head cases.”
She snorted and replied to Gibbs, “I think he’s going to be fine, Agent Gibbs, even if I can’t explain it. MRI and CAT scans are scheduled for thirty minutes from now to double check things.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Gibbs said, using his free hand to shake hers.
Dr. Bailey shrugged. “I didn’t do this, but you’re welcome.”
“Anthony my boy, you are, without a doubt, the luckiest man I know,” Ducky announced when she was gone.
Smirking, Tony quipped, “Just wait ‘til I get Gibbs home, then I’ll get even luckier.”
Gibbs just sighed, his lips twitching in an effort not to grin.
A knock at the door announced Karen’s presence and Tony grimaced when Gibbs’ hand tightened painfully on his. The pressure instantly let up and the hand brought up for a brief, apologetic kiss before Gibbs stood to square off with the DA.
“You were going to have people watching him, he was supposed to be under protection!” Gibbs snarled.
Protection? Tony wondered. That’s news.
Holding up her hands, Karen replied, “I’m sorry, Agent Gibbs, but there was honestly nothing we could do. It simply happened too fast.”
“Wait a second here. You used me as bait and didn’t even tell me?” Tony demanded, glaring at his lover.
Still scowling, Gibbs replied, “Not my idea, DiNozzo.”
“He didn’t have a choice,”
Karen confirmed. “And neither did
Tony frowned and observed, “But if that’s the case, why is Justice involved? That’s the FBI’s turf, isn’t it? Home grown misfits and all that?”
She sighed. “It’s a long, convoluted story and honestly, my head hurts trying to untangle the web.”
“What about Tony’s head? What about the fact that he almost died?” Gibbs questioned harshly. “What’s Justice got to say about that? Or the FBI? You better tell them that I’m going to...”
“Jethro!”
Startled by the sharp use of his first name from Tony, Gibbs stopped mid-sentence to look at him and ask, “What?”
“If anyone here has a right to be pissed, it’s me. The unsuspecting dupe,” Tony reminded him, half-smiling. Glancing to Karen, he asked, “Did they get the guys who ran me down?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they under arrest?”
“And singing like larks.”
“Good. Then you don’t need me to testify, right?”
Karen paused, then replied slowly, “No, I suppose we don’t. We’ve got plenty of forensic evidence that they’re the ones who hit you and their own confessions to nail the coffin shut on Korinski and their organization, too.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Tony said, “Then I think we’re done. It was nice to meet you, but unless something hideously wrong happens to the case, I don’t want to see you or your office again. Well, unless our paths cross professionally, of course.”
“I understand,” Karen agreed simply. “Good luck to all of you.”
Relaxing a little once the door closed behind her, Tony grinned at Gibbs and observed, “You really need to check into those anger management classes, Boss.”
Gibbs’ mouth opened like he was going to say something harsh, but then he sighed and sat on the bed. “I think maybe you’re right, DiNozzo.”
“And on that note, I’m going home to sleep in a real bed,” Ducky informed them.
Tony smirked a little and said to Gerald, “Make sure you keep him there for a couple of days.”
Shaking his head in amusement, Gerald just said, “Glad you’re all right, Tony,” and guided a too-tired Ducky out of the room.
“You’re something else, Tony.”
“Aren’t I?” Tony agreed, grinning up at Gibbs. “And just think. In a couple of weeks when I don’t have a plaster chastity belt on, you can get seriously reacquainted with just what I am.”
A short laugh escaped Gibbs and then it happened, what Tony had been waiting for, for the last four hours since he’d woken up. Gibbs’ breath hitched and caught and he began to shake, wrapping his arms tight around himself. Tony smiled gently and tugged him down, holding him tight as he soothed a hand up and down his lover’s back. Tony didn’t fool himself that he was the only one who’d been deeply affected by this entire debacle. It was just that his injuries were a lot more obvious than the ones that had been inflicted on Gibbs.
It was time for them both to start healing.
EPILOGUE
There were too many repercussions from the hit-and-run, Tony mused, hissing in pain as he shifted the heating pad on his leg.
It had taken five months of grueling physical therapy for Tony to be able to walk and run at the standard NCIS level to get back to his job. Migraines were just something to be accepted and dealt with as they came, too often. Having to wear glasses for real, instead of just to look good for his vanity, because his vision had taken a dive was a royal pain in the ass, but considering he could’ve been blinded, Tony didn’t complain about it all that often, and certainly not out loud to Gibbs.
Then there were the non-physical problems that kept cropping up at the worst times. There were the pseudo-panic attacks from Gibbs if Tony was late more than five minutes. They were rarely out of each other’s sight for long, either, though he wouldn’t really call that a problem. Tony’s nightmares of getting hit by a car, over and over again, however, was a problem and eventually, he was going to have to see a shrink about it.
Arthritic pain in his hip and knee when the weather turned damp, and exacerbated when it got cold, was just the newest legacy.
Grimacing as he again shifted the heating pad on his thigh, this time to cover his hip, Tony reached over and started powering down his computer. It was two days before Christmas and they were heading out of the city to the warmth of an island getaway, a complete and utter shock to Tony when Gibbs had held out the plane tickets over the weekend.
“All set to have fun in the sun?” Abby asked as she approached, a broad grin on her face.
Grinning in response, Tony replied, “More than, Abs, no question. What about you and Kate? What’re you two up to? Aside from working.”
Abby made a face at his teasing and retorted, “One day, my friend, one day you will discover the downside to being the Boss’ boy-toy.”
Laughing softly, Tony said, “Not any time soon, I’ll tell you that.”
“When’s your flight?”
Tony glanced over at McGee, who was powering down his own computer, and answered, “Seven. Now, you’re sure that you’ve got everything down like I told you, Probie?”
McGee didn’t even grimace at the nick-name anymore. They all knew that he was Probie in name only these days, having more than proved his worth while Tony was in recovery. He nodded and said, “I have wine for her father, flowers for her mother, those concert tickets Abby scored for her little sister, and the ring, of course, for her.”
Abby kissed his cheek and exclaimed, “We’re so proud, McGee, aren’t we, Tony? All grown up now and asking properly for Cheryl’s hand in marriage.”
Chuckling, Tony was about to answer in the affirmative when Gibbs stepped off the elevator. Their eyes met and it was like he knew exactly what Gibbs was thinking. That it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. Unplugging the heating pad, Tony tossed it on the desk and stood up.
“All set, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, joining them.
Tony nodded and stepped around the desk. Kate got off the elevator just then, stalking across the room with a look in her eyes that said he was so busted.
“Ah, Boss, we should really...”
“DiNozzo! What the hell made you think you could escape before I could get hold of you?” Kate exclaimed.
Gibbs, Abby, and McGee all turned curious eyes on him and Tony squirmed. “Look, Kate, it’s not like...”
“Don’t you start!”
“But...”
“Not a word, DiNozzo!”
And then he had an armful of Kate, and an astonished audience as she kissed him right on the lips. Grinning when she stepped away, he asked, “So you liked our present?”
Gibbs mouthed, ‘Our?’ at him behind her head.
“You are on my permanent ‘good
guy’ list, DiNozzo, no matter what I said about your parentage before,” she
confirmed, beaming. “Abby, pack your bags. We’re going to
Abby’s jaw dropped and she squeaked, “Where? When?”
“Yeah, DiNozzo, when?” Gibbs questioned, arms crossing over his chest.
Scratching fingers through his hair, abashed, Tony replied, “The day we get back. See, I knew you had some kind of trip planned, and it didn’t seem fair to let them languish here while we were off having fun, not without some kind of, you know, compensation for having to work on Christmas. Oh, McGee, don’t forget to check your car for your present. We have to go or we’ll miss our plane. Bye, all!”
Tony dragged Gibbs away from the others amidst well-wishes and promises to be careful.
Once the elevator doors closed, Gibbs turned on him and demanded, “Just what did we get McGee?”
Offering a weak grin, Tony
answered, “Ah, his honeymoon on
“
“I’ve always been drawn to that island. You know the old limerick.”
“Don’t say it.”
“There once was a man from
Gibbs slapped a hand over Tony’s mouth and shook his head. “You know what, DiNozzo?”
Tony mumbled, “What?” against his palm.
Leaning in close, ignoring the cameras, Gibbs removed his hand and kissed him, thoroughly, until Tony was weak against the wall. Then the doors opened and Gibbs walked out, leaving him there to turn around and prompt, “Well? We do have a flight to catch. Get a move on.”
After catching his breath, Tony grinned and hurried after him, falling into step with the man who loved him more than anything and, finally, wasn’t afraid to show the world. It was the best Christmas present of his life.
Not that he was going to make Gibbs return the tickets, or anything.