Chapter 1

As senior agent, Jethro was required to attend a special dinner in Jenny's honor with the SecNav, Vance, and a few others. He had been in a sour mood anyway, but the dinner had been endless and the tuxedo felt itchy and uncomfortable. And if he had to deal one more time with the sympathetic looks and tongue clucking from people who barely knew Jenny, he was going to put his fist through something. Yeah, he'd had a fling with her, nine, almost ten years ago. Yeah, he was deeply upset that she was gone. But she wasn't the love of his life, even if he had been the love of hers.

Yeah, she was gone, and the more Jethro spoke with Ducky and Franks, the more he realized that Jenny went out the way she wanted to— taking no prisoners, decisively— the more he accepted it. It still hurt like hell that she went down protecting him, but in a strange way he understood. They hadn't been built for forever, but they had cared about each other to the end.

The drinks, the constant Jenny stories, were wearing him down. It wasn't bad enough that he had to train three probies at the same time. It wasn't bad enough that one of those probies was Jimmy Palmer. He missed his team. Too damn much.

Ziva was still skulking around DC. They'd had drinks a couple of weeks ago. He didn't even know if another agency had snapped her up or if she was freelance. He didn't want to know. It was enough that he had her nearby for when he got the team back.

He was finding excuses to go down to Cyber Crimes to check on McGee. The spark had gone out of the kid, even more so than when they'd lost Kate. At least then they'd been together. They would be again, as soon as Franks finished getting the details together that would sink Vance.

And DiNozzo. He'd tried to look at the new assignment as a step up even though they all knew that being offered team leader a short time ago was the real promotion offer. This was a demotion, would take DiNozzo off the grid for at least a year. Jethro had no doubt Tony would man his own team, but it wouldn't be Spain. Or Norfolk, or San Diego, or any of the other enviable places. And sure as hell not DC. Vance wanted to split the team up permanently.

At first, Tony had stayed in contact with phone calls and email, but the last few weeks, communication had trickled down to nothing and Gibbs didn't know how to reach Tony. A head slap couldn't exactly be delivered long distance.

It was near midnight and he was just a little buzzed when he pulled into his driveway, a strange car sitting at the curb, his living room lights blazing. He hadn't brought his gun along tonight but he was a Marine and could take care of himself. He cracked the door open silently and slipped into the living room.

DiNozzo was slumped on the couch, droplets of blood staining the carpet nearby. "DiNozzo? Hey..." He wanted to rush in, but didn't want to startle the younger man. When Tony didn't immediately answer, he rushed over, brushing hair back from DiNozzo's sweaty forehead. Tony's eyes blinked open and Jethro gave him an encouraging smile. "Hey ... how bad is it? You called Ducky yet?"

"Gibbs?" Tony tried to focus on the person standing in front of him, but was finding it difficult, especially since he'd fallen deeply asleep. "Where you been, Gibbs? You never go out, one night I show up you're gone."

"Dinner. With SecNav, Vance, buncha other ass kissers. Somehow got nominated as Jenny's romantic partner, even though it was in the past. Now answer my question."

"Don't know how bad it is. Hurts like a bitch, but assuming bullet didn't hit anything major I'll survive. Didn't want to go to the hospital, or call the cops. That's funny, a cop calling the cops. Need to make this go away, and really don't want Ducky to see me at my worst, so don't call him. Please."

"Where'd you blow in from, DiNozzo?"

Tony had tendered his resignation and caught a helicopter off of the floating tin can better known as the U.S.S. Ronald Regan. There had been no way he was going to spend the rest of his life on a boat, and had made contact with some old friends on the Baltimore force. There was a chance he could get back onto homicide if he worked hard, and his federal experience was going to help him out a lot.

He tried to gather his thoughts. "Not really an ocean kind of guy. Too constricting, all that space and I'm stuck in a room with no windows. Just wasn't fair. They wanted me there about as much as I wanted to be there." No one had a problem getting the hell of the boat, which made Tony happy. Couldn't help it if life had gone to hell since getting dropped off. "On a yacht, with a bar fully stocked it might be okay. But the way I was doing this three-hour tour, it just wasn't enjoyable."

Jethro started to cuff him then pulled back reading between the lines of what Tony had said. "You tender your resignation, Tony? Lot of time invested with NCIS. Whatcha gonna do now?"

"Go back to the cop shop. Donuts all around, prove to my captain that he was right. Couldn't hack the feds. Would do something to fuck it up." He hadn't really needed to tender a resignation, not when he's offended the big man on water from the moment he stepped on board. They were happy to be rid of him. The second in command had even offered to lower him down in a lifeboat and leave a beacon so someone would be able to find him. "No one is missing me on the boat. The ones who even knew I was there would have rather tossed me overboard then let me fly off into the sunset. Lucky I got out of there."

"Ah, Tony." Kid was his own worst enemy. Jethro noted that he didn't directly answer the question. "Did they fire you or did you go AWOL? I have to know for when I get you back on my team. And I will, Tony. Don't doubt that for a second."

"I wrote up a note, took suggestions as to what to say. Didn't stick out my two weeks though. Don't know that I'll be back with NCIS after that. Even if you get the team back, I might decide I want to go back to the public sector. I don't know, haven't thought that much about it. Maybe I'll get a job teaching gym somewhere. Could be I'm just not meant to be in this business boss. Got a degree, but I keep telling myself I should be a white hat. Could be the end of my do-right days."

Jethro grasped Tony's chin in his hand. "It'd be a damn shame if I lost my best investigator because of Leon Fucking Vance. You stuck it out at this job because ya know you're making a difference and that I need you. Hasn't changed, DiNozzo. Only your perception changed."

"Don't ever say fucking and Leon Vance in the same sentence boss. That might be enough to turn me off of sex for a good long while. And right now, don't have much more then left now that I'm unemployed. Booze and sex about cover it. And you have just given me a lifetime anti-woody."

Jethro sighed and nodded. "Deal. You wanna tell me how this happened?"

"Stupid, was going to get a drink. Thought drinking on stable land would be a good idea, no rocking, which meant no puking when I got loaded." There was no way that he was ever going to drink on a boat again. Really, after the night he'd had, might not drink again ever. "Hit on the wrong woman, her boyfriend and buddies took exception. I fought back, and one of them thought it would be a good idea to introduce a gun into a fist fight. When I realized I was shot, decided it was time to visit you. Knew you'd take care of me."

"How far did you drive, Tony? They could have killed you. Then where would I be? My best agent would be dead. Don't do that to me. Don't want to bury anyone else I care about." Jethro sighed, shaking his head.

"What about Ducky, DiNozzo? He would have helped you." The lower leg of Tony's jeans was saturated. "Gotta get these off the hard way."

Jethro pulled out his utility knife and slashed the thick fabric away at the knee. The bullet was a through and through, looked like it had just torn through Tony's calf and missed his shin bone entirely. Small caliber, localized bleeding, excess blood loss must have been from him not elevating or putting pressure on it.

He stripped off his jacket and unbuttoned a couple of buttons on his shirt, yanking off the cufflinks and rolling the sleeves up. He had one of those throw blankets under the couch and he grabbed it.

"This is gonna hurt, DiNozzo, but I have to stop the bleeding." He couldn't believe he'd waited this long.

He pressed down on the leg with one hand and flipped the button on Tony's pants with the other, pulling down the fly in a single motion then settling it above the waist band of Tony's boxers, low on his belly. "Gotta get these off you unless you want me to cut 'em off."

"That's kind of sexy boss. Might have to play at that some day. Just make sure you don't slice the goods. Got to earn a living somehow. Might be reduced to gigolo status. Think Ducky would hire me to entertain his mom? She liked me well enough; Ducky's place is comfortable. I could get used to being a hired cabana boy to a demented Alzheimer's patient. I bet Ducky pays well, probably better then a cop salary. Something to consider if nothing else pans out. Don't have an apartment any more, so I need someplace to be."

Jethro coughed a couple of times, stowing his knife. Tony was rambling, as usual, but his abs were tense under Jethro's hand and his respirations were suddenly much quicker. And was he...

Yeah, he was getting hard. And Jethro was going to have problems of his own if Tony didn't relax.

"You can stay here with me, Tony. I got room to spare. Now lift up so we can get these off you."

Jethro wrapped the blanket tight around Tony's leg and hauled the other man up into a sitting position. "Easy ... expensive tux. Let's not bleed all over it. You probably know the designer, whoever it is. Armani or whoever."

"Looks good on you, Boss. I know since I'm seeing three of you right now. Gonna have to get you some good suits, something that doesn't come from Sears clearance rack. Always need a good interview suit." Tony would suggest that Gibbs wear his tux, but the boss didn't look too comfortable. "You are going to need one, probably sooner then later. Vance has it in for us all."

"Three of me, huh? You're not running scared?" Was it the pain or was Tony that drunk. He'd clearly been drinking, Jethro could smell it on his breath. "I have suits. I had wives who were into all that fashion crap. Versace, Armani, others. Six hundred here, couple thousand there. Would rather be comfortable at work. Don't worry about Vance, DiNozzo. Franks and I are working some angles. Intelligence gathering. He's going down. I just need my best agent to hang in there until I can get the team back."