OPENING GAMBIT

Jethro looked around the apartment with a practiced eye. He noted the sports magazines mixed in with astronomy ones, the trophies so proudly displayed under the diplomas and certificates. He saw the expensive, well-cared for furniture that was at least five years old, and he noticed the wheelchair scuff-marks on the hardwood and tiled floors throughout the apartment.

Glass from a large, bay window lay strewn over the floor, creating a too-chilly draft of air. Furniture was out of place and lamps had been overturned, indicating a serious struggle.

Turning to Ducky, he asked, “What do we have, Duck?”

“Massive head trauma, blood loss and three stab wounds,” Ducky replied. “I can’t be sure which killed him first until we get the poor fellow back to the lab, to be honest.”

“That’s a bit overkill, don’t you think?”

Gibbs half-grinned over at Kate and agreed, “Just a little. Got the pictures?”

She raised the camera. “All done now.”

“Where’s the roommate?” he questioned.

Kate pointed down the short hall towards the bedrooms, answering, “McGee’s with him and the landlady taking statements.”

Jethro sighed. “Still?”

Grinning, she shrugged and moved over to the kits, pulling out bags to start pulling whatever she might think to be evidence.

Jethro walked towards the room where he could hear muffled voices from behind a door. Before going in, though, he went to the other bedroom. He noted the neatly made bed first, and then the completely lack of lived-in feeling the room had. No books on the bedside table. No clothes in the hamper. Only a few, barely-there scuff marks from the wheelchair. He snorted and muttered, “Roommates, my ass,” and headed next door.

Walking inside, he noted the comfortable, masculine décor and understated, tasteful accents that he’d probably never have thought to add himself in a million years, but had to admit made the room all that much more pleasant. This was the larger room by half, with a king sized bed, two bedside tables holding different items, sports magazine on one, astronomy book on the other, glasses with the astronomy book and an asthma inhaler with the sports magazine.

After taking it all in at a glance, Jethro’s gaze landed on either their prime suspect, or their prime witness. His first reaction was a gut-deep, Handsome. Which the guy was. Professional model or actor level of handsome, with brown hair and brilliant eyes that were currently filled with moisture, but not actually leaking tears. His second reaction was just as instinctual, Witness, not suspect.

And while it could’ve been the instant flare of attraction, Jethro had been doing this for over ten years and knew that it wasn’t. Despite the obvious strength in the man’s upper body, and the fact that no one better than a lover could achieve the element of surprise, the pain in the eyes that stared at McGee was too real to be faked.

Not to mention that while it was possible he’d gotten that goose-egg from struggling with his lover, Jethro couldn’t see an officer of Ben Whitcomb’s caliber striking a handicapped man from behind, no matter what the provocation. Even less so, if the man was his lover.

Stepping forward, he greeted, “Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. You are?”

The man cleared his throat, shifting his attention to Jethro, and answered, “Tony DiNozzo, Ben’s lover.”

Well, the victim might not have been out in his work with the whole ‘don’t ask’ policy in place, but DiNozzo clearly had no trouble being open about their relationship.

“Mr. DiNozzo, I’m sorry for your loss,” Jethro began, sincerely. “Can you repeat for me what you remember about the murder?”

Because this, he had to hear for himself; he needed to know just how much danger Tony was in.

Tony offered him a wan smile and replied, “Thanks. I’m not sure I’ll be any good as a witness. I have trouble sleeping sometimes and take sleeping pills. Last night was pretty bad, so Ben pretty much ordered me to take a couple and I did. It was something breaking that woke me up, probably the lamp. That thing’s pretty old and heavy. Lead crystal. A house-warming gift from my aunt. Oh, sorry. Rambling a little.”

Jethro nodded, indicating for him to go on.

“Um. I was pretty out of it, but saw that Ben wasn’t in bed and managed to get into my wheelchair to see what was going on. There were three of them, pretty big, built like football players or body builders, you know? It was dark, though, and I was woozy from the pills, so I don’t remember what any of them look like. I grabbed the baseball bat and managed to get in a few swings on one of them before the bastard took it from me and clobbered me. To be honest, I’m surprised I’m still alive,” Tony finished with a careless shrug.

“Why is that?” Jethro questioned.

“I figured it was a gay bashing thing. Military commandos gone overkill…” Tony blanched at his own choice of words and finally, the tears spilled free. Quiet ones that seemed all the more poignant for their silence as Tony clutched his stomach and gasped, “Oh God, he’s really dead, isn’t he?”

“Can’t you leave him alone?” the elderly landlady demanded, patting Tony’s shoulder.

Shaking his head, Jethro apologized, “I’m truly sorry, but we need as many details as you can give us.”

“Memory gets faulty, the longer you let it go, I know.”

Jethro was surprised. “Watch a lot of cop shows?”

“No, I used to be one. I’m going for my masters in astronomy now as a fallback career,” Tony explained with a hint of bitterness as he wiped away the tears. “Ben’s the one who encouraged me to do it. He always said, he said that that if I wanted the stars, I should reach for them.”

“He sounds like a good man,” Jethro commented.

Tony offered a watery smile and agreed simply, “He was.”

Getting the subject back on track, Jethro asked, “Do you remember anything distinctive about the assailants?”

“No. They didn’t speak, they were covered completely, so far as I could tell, no skin to see what color they were, even. Nothing to ID them, visually. They were all even the same build. Oh wait, I said that already, I’m sorry,” Tony apologized.

Jethro waved it off. “No problem. I think we’re done here now. McGee, arrange for Mr. DiNozzo to get transportation to the hospital.”

But Tony shook his head and countered, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, you’ve been through a traumatic event and probably have a concussion. If you don’t go voluntarily, I’ll strap you into the ambulance personally,” Jethro stated firmly.

Tony looked surprised, then slightly abashed. “Sorry. I guess I’m not thinking too clearly right now.”

“Don’t apologize, just go to the hospital,” Jethro countered, relenting a bit.

The younger man nodded with a sigh, but seemed at a loss as to what to do next.

“McGee!” Jethro snapped.

McGee jumped and exclaimed, “Yes, Boss! Right away.”

And then Jethro did something that he never, ever did. He walked over to Tony and gripped his shoulder, offering comfort as he said, “I’ll stick with you ‘til we get you examined, all right?”

The grateful look in those incredible eyes was enough to let Jethro know that he was sinking fast.

* * * *

Kate was more than a little surprised to find out that Gibbs was driving DiNozzo to the hospital to get checked out. She gave him a frown and said, “He’s the prime suspect.”

“Not any more he isn’t,” Gibbs replied. “We’re looking for 3 large guys who killed Lt. Whitcomb, but for some reason, didn’t kill Mr. DiNozzo. No distinguishing features or anything. Make sure you go over this place with a fine-toothed comb. Forensics is all we’re going to have to go on this time.”

Snorting, she countered, “When isn’t it?”

“True. I’ll check in with you when we get to the hospital. I want a protective detail set up for Mr. DiNozzo until we solve this thing and put those bastards behind bars.”

The coldness in Gibbs’ voice was more than a little scary and she nodded hastily. “Absolutely.”

“His doctor’s attached to Georgetown, so that’s where we’ll be,” Gibbs continued. “I’m taking him out through the fire door.”

Surprised again, Kate asked, “Why?”

“Wheelchair,” Gibbs answered simply.

Right. Wheelchair would roll right through and pick up evidence that they needed.

“By the book, Kate. I want to nail these bastards.”

Kate nodded emphatically, keen to do the same even without the added motivation. Anyone who would murder a man in such a brutal fashion and then be about to do the same to his handicapped lover, well, they got no mercy from her whatsoever. And she was sure that they were going to kill the lover, too. Why would they leave a potential witness alive? According to the landlady when they’d first gotten on the scene, it had only been the sirens that had kept them from doing the deed.

She watched as Gibbs walked back down the short hall, meeting up with, and blocking the view of, Mr. DiNozzo. She kept an eye on them until the door at the other end of the hallway had closed. Turning to McGee, she ordered, “Let’s get to it, Probie!”

* * * *

Tony’s head was killing him, his legs throbbed with agony, his back hurt and his heart ached so bad he thought he was going to die. It was the last thing that made everything else just kind of fade into the background. He noticed the nice NCIS agent who chauffeured him to the hospital and stuck around while Dr. Ryan looked him over, but he didn’t really see him until the pain killers took effect a couple of hours after he’d been admitted.

It wasn’t until the man came into his hospital room that Tony took in the handsome, stern features, the strength of his body, the determination etched into him like an extra feature. Exactly the kind of man he was attracted to, except at the moment, he was too broken to pay any attention.

“Just wanted to check in on you, see how you were feeling,” Gibbs said quietly, standing beside the bed.

Tony shrugged. “Not feeling much of anything, any more.”

“Probably a blessing, at least for now.”

“I guess,” Tony agreed, listless. “I just…it’s like some horrible fucking nightmare, you know? Of course you know. You do this for a living.”

Gibbs winced a little and said, “That’s different from being a witness.”

“Yeah, but you’ve seen action, I can tell,” Tony countered, figuring out where that aura finally came from; experience in the midst of insanity. Probably on the frontlines of some war. He recognized the kindred spirit from when he’d been on the frontlines of Philly and Baltimore.

Looking surprised, Gibbs asked, “How’d you know?”

Tony waved it off, noticing that it was getting more difficult to lift his arm, and answered, “Can tell. You got that…look in your eyes. You know the one.”

Gibbs apparently did, because he nodded. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest, but I’ll be outside until the detail shows up. Who should I call about Lt. Whitcomb?”

“No one. I’ll make the arrangements,” Tony answered, sighing. “Ben wasn’t on speaking terms with his family, hadn’t been for years. They didn’t approve of him going into the military. Two of our common denominators, actually, only my folks didn’t approve of me being a cop.”

For a long moment, Gibbs didn’t say anything. Then he squeezed Tony’s should and offered, “I’ll be right outside if you need anything, even if you just want company, okay?”

Tony managed a weary smile before closing his eyes and succumbing to the siren call of the drugs.

* * * *

Jethro snared Tony’s doctor and asked, “So what’s wrong with Mr. DiNozzo? Is he paralyzed?”

“I can’t really discuss…”

“Look, I just need to know what I’m dealing with so I can be prepared for any eventuality in protecting him,” Jethro broke in, firm, but not overstated. Doctor’s were a tricky breed to deal with, each needing special handling. “I don’t know how long we’ll be keeping him in protective custody, but if he needs special treatment, aside from the obvious, I need to know.”

The doctor looked at him a moment, then gave in and explained, “Tony has a disease called Frankin’s Malady. It’s rare and blood-borne, but not fatal. It’s a degenerative disease that wastes the muscles, but doesn’t affect the nervous system. Technically, Tony’s not paralyzed. He can feel everything that happens to his legs from a pin-prick to a broken bone. He just no longer has the muscle capacity to hold himself upright.”

“You said degenerative. Will it get worse?” Jethro asked, more than a little shocked by the diagnosis. He’d never even heard of this thing.

But the answer was negative. “No, Tony’s as good, and as bad, as he’s going to get, barring unforeseen circumstance. He helps himself by going to physical therapy every day and working what muscles he has left, to keep them from atrophying. The disease usually attacks one part of the body, in Tony’s case, the legs, and eats away at the tissue. If it gets beyond a certain point, if circulation stops or gangrene sets in, amputation becomes necessary.”

Jethro almost flinched at the revelation, but managed not to. Instead he questioned, “Is he in pain?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor replied. “No one knows if it’s psychosomatic or if there’s actually something triggering the pain, because this is such a rare disease. There’s simply been very little research done on it. Tony’s the only one that I know of in the Tri-State area with Frankins. He has medication for when the pain gets too bad, but I know from Ben that he rarely uses it. Ben usually has to, had to, goad Tony into taking them. He’s an amazing man.”

Jethro was starting to figure that out. “Thanks, Doc.”

The other man nodded and walked away, leaving Jethro to his thoughts. Taking a seat in a chair opposite Tony’s door, Jethro settled in to wait for the protective detail to arrive. It was going to be another hour or so and he planned to use the time to figure out what their next move would be.

What his next move would be.

TACTICS

Tony had never been on this side of a protective custody detail before. He’d always been the protector, not the protectee, and it was really disconcerting. He hadn’t been allowed back to the apartment after leaving the hospital, but rather brought to a safe house, which seemed like way too much to him, but what did he know? He was only an ex-cop.

Snorting at the thought, Tony wheeled himself into the living room of the small, one-story, two-bedroom place and settled in front of the television. He snagged the remote and started flipping through stations, too restless to really watch anything, but not allowed to go anywhere, either. Frick and Frack, as he’d named them, were in the kitchen talking quietly about an affair Frack’s wife was having. Shaking his head, sympathetic to the blow that could be, Tony turned off the television just in time to hear a key turn in the lock. His heart sped up, but he didn’t have time to call out a warning before it opened.

It was the NCIS Agent Gibbs who stepped through the door, thankfully, but Tony was still left with the adrenaline pumping through his system. Pale blue eyes met his and the other man grimaced. “I called them to let them know I was coming, but I guess they didn’t pass on the information.”

“No problem,” Tony answered, forcing a smile and taking a breath. “Hadn’t had my caffeine fix for the day, so that’s taken care of. I’m awake now.”

Frick and Frack walked into the living room and Gibbs snapped, “If you can’t take your job seriously, I’ll find you an assignment that suits more; like picking up trash off the interstate!”

“Agent Gibbs, hey, it’s all right,” Tony began.

Gibbs cut him off without even looking at him, ordering, “Find something to do, before I find something for you to do.”

Both men hurried out of the room.

Chuckling, Tony observed, “I think you could scare anyone, Agent Gibbs.”

A brief smile surfaced and Gibbs replied, “That’s the goal, Mr. DiNozzo.”

Tony smiled and motioned towards the sofa. “Have a seat. You want something to drink? There’s some soda in the fridge.”

“I’m good, thanks. How are you doing? Aside from just having a heart attack.”

Rolling back and forth a little, Tony answered, “I’m fine. Well, dealing anyhow. Or, avoiding dealing. There’s plenty of junk food, so that works for me.”

Gibbs nodded, clearly understanding. “Do you need anything?”

“Other than for you to tell me why you’re bothering with small talk? Not a thing.”

There was a pause as Gibbs looked him over before saying, “We’ve hit a brick wall. There’s no forensic evidence to trace these guys. No eye witness account. Nothing in the Lieutenant’s history that indicates he had any enemies. He wasn't working on anything sensitive enough to garner this kind of reaction. You, on the other hand, put away a number of scumbags during your time on the job.”

“You think it’s someone out for revenge,” Tony stated, guilt rising up. Had someone killed Ben because of something he'd done? It seemed entirely probable.

Gibbs grimaced. “There’s nothing else I can think. I’ve prioritized all your case files, but I need you to tell us who’s really a threat and who isn’t.”

“I don’t see a box in your arms.”

“They’re back at NCIS. I want you to come back with me to go over them with Agent Todd. She’s a profiler.”

“Why bother with me at all then?”

“Because you know these bastards personally. I don’t care how long you’ve been off the job, you still know their habits and how they think.”

Tony looked away from Gibbs’ intensity, trying to rein in the emotions that were roiling through him. He’d given up police work only when there was no other option. To go back into it, even just temporarily, would cut into him like a knife. Especially once it was over and he had to leave it behind again.

“I need your help on this one, Mr. DiNozzo.”

Knowing how much that had to have cost Gibbs, Tony finally nodded and glanced back at the agent. “You’ve got it.”

* * * *

NCIS was a very busy place, which was to be expected. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen so many uniforms in one place, even though the agents outnumbered the officers. Going through security with his chair was an interesting experience. A number of metal detecting wands went over him while he was sitting on a regular chair, while the wheelchair was inspected. From the tight jaw Gibbs exhibited, Tony knew the agent was ticked, but he was fine with it.

Once that was done, he followed the other man into an office area where he was introduced to Special Agents Kate Todd and Timothy McGee. Agent Todd was as sharp as they came, quick to size him up and then ignored the wheelchair. She’d clearly known someone who was disabled, taking it as part of him and treating him completely normally. Agent McGee, on the other hand, was clearly unsure of how to interact with him, stammering and then flinching a couple of times when Gibbs pinned him with a Look. Despite that, Tony could tell he was a good guy and cut him some slack.

About an hour into the files, a flash of pain sliced through his left thigh and he bit his lip to stop a cry from escaping. Taking a slow, deep breath to combat as much of the pain as he could, Tony took a few seconds to regain his composure before forcing a smile and asking, “Can someone point me towards the little agent’s room?”

Kate grinned and answered, “Right over there. You know. Near the sign that says ‘Restrooms.’”

The throb in his leg took away whatever humor he would have found in that comment, but Tony continued to smile and swiftly wheeled himself in the direction she’d pointed. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty and he locked the stall door behind him before stabbing fingers into the muscle knot and working it hard. It hurt and took longer than normal to go away, not that it went away completely, which Tony figured was due to all the stress. His body was sensitive to changes, physical and emotional, and he had to be careful with more than just not trying to walk.

“Mr. DiNozzo? Are you all right?”

Tony sighed faintly and unlocked the door, wheeling himself out into the main part of the room. To his surprise, Gibbs was standing there holding a bottle of water and a prescription bottle. Arching an eyebrow at him, Tony asked, “Aren’t there rules against this sort of thing?”

Not in the least amused, Gibbs growled, “Take your damn medication before I force it down your throat.”

Somehow, Tony had no problem believing that he would do exactly what he’d just said. It sure as hell lacked the finesse with which Ben got him to take it, but he gave in anyhow, holding out both hands. “I probably shouldn’t ask how you got hold of this in the first place.”

“Your doctor was worried, so I told him I’d keep an eye on you,” Gibbs answered, handing over both bottles.

Tony washed down two of the pills with a healthy swallow of water, then complained, “And people don’t believe me when I say there’s a conspiracy.”

Gibbs snorted, but at least the tension had lightened. “Come on, DiNozzo, let’s get back to work.”

Another hour later and they’d gone through the entire stack of files, narrowing the field down to five potential killers. Even with the meds, Tony’s back and legs hurt, but he’d be damned if he was going to show any weakness that would get him sent away early. It was so good, being around other people who thought like him again, even if McGee continued to stammer with uncertainty. It was, apparently, his natural state of being. No one thought twice when Tony began calling him Probie, even though it was Tony who was the new kid on the block.

“Yo, Gibbs! I’m all alone downstairs with nothing to do! You know that’s a bad combination!” a woman called out.

Tony turned to find a slender, black-haired goth girl striding towards them. Pale eyes set in a very pretty face met his and he smiled a greeting.

“Well hello gorgeous,” she purred, stopping in front of him. “I’m Abby.”

Taking the hand she held out, Tony introduced himself with his best James bond impression. “DiNozzo. Tony DiNozzo.”

Giggling, Abby looked over at Gibbs and asked, “Where’d you find him? Can we keep him?”

“He’s not a stray, Abs,” Gibbs replied, joining them.

Kate chimed in with, “Tony’s helping us find out who wants to kill him.”

Abby blinked. “Okaaay. Do we usually ask the victims to do that? Because, I don’t remember us doing that before.”

“You don’t usually have ex-cops as the victim, either, I’m betting,” Tony pointed out.

“Ah. Thought I recognized the vibe.”

“Vibe?”

“Yeah, you know.” Abby straightened, holding up her hands like she was in court, on the stand, with the bible. “Whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help me Gibbs.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow at her. “So help me Gibbs?”

“Trust me. He’s way scarier than God,” Abby replied in a stage whisper.

Tony laughed.

* * * *

Dinner was a quick, if late, affair of Chinese takeout and red wine, eaten in the living room in front of the evening news. Given that they’d completely struck out on the five suspects from Tony’s past, Gibbs had told everyone to go home and start fresh in the morning.

“So what do you think of him?” Abby asked, nudging her lover with an elbow.

Kate thought about it for a second, then answered, “I like him. I think he’s a good man. Solid investigator.”

Nodding, Abby questioned, “So what do you think Gibbs thinks of him?”

Which was a far more interesting question, in Kate’s opinion. “I think Gibbs is in for a hell of a long wait.”

“Oooh. You got that vibe too, huh?” Abby demanded, sitting upright. “Bossman has it bad and it’s only been, what, three days since you caught the case?”

Kate grinned at her and pointed out, “You’ve always believed in love at first sight.”

“True,” Abby allowed. “But this is Gibbs. He’s like, immune to all that romance stuff.”

“Not if he was married three times,” Kate countered dryly. Abby laughed and then yawned, so Kate teased, “Not enough Caf-Pows today, Abs?”

With an eyeroll, Abby replied, “I’ll have you know that I’ve been cutting back, as requested.”

“So you had ten, instead of fifteen?”

“Very funny. I’d never leave the bathroom if that was the case. I only had four today.”

Kate leaned in for a soft kiss, murmuring, “I’m proud of you, Abby. Good job.”

Abby asked coyly, “Do I get a reward?”

Laughing, Kate pushed her down on the sofa and straddled her, enjoying the merry twinkle in the other woman’s eyes. “I think I can come up with some way to reward you.”

* * * *

The funeral took place the following day and it was harder than Kate had thought it would be to watch Tony interact with the people there. He was dressed in an expensive, charcoal gray suit that was well fitted and a deep blue shirt that set off the blue in his changeable eyes. He was in the front row with the parents of the victim...of Ben, she corrected herself...but clearly not ‘with’ them. And there was no sign of Tony’s parents, or any kind of family.

Bad blood there, she thought sadly, wondering if it was the gay thing, or the disabled thing, or both that had driven the wedge between Ben and his parents.

“Anything?” Gibbs’ voice crackled in her ear.

Scanning the crowd, Kate murmured, “Nothing yet.”

It was only a hunch, but when Gibbs’ gut spoke up, they all listened. For whatever reason, Gibbs was sure that at least one of the killers would be there. And since there was a possibility from a profiling aspect that he was right, Kate hadn’t raised a protest even though she would be the one standing in a graveyard with people she didn’t know, in the rain.

“I can’t believe we have to do this.”

Kate’s hearing picked up the sour tone before deciphering the words, which definitely caught her attention. Glancing over at the two agents who were standing a few feet away, the guards on Tony’s protective detail.

The second guy snorted and muttered, “If they wanted to kill the cripple, they would’ve the first time, right? This is a waste of time.”

Stiffening in outrage, Kate hung back another few minutes to see what else they were going to say.

The first agent shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I can’t figure out which is worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“The queer or the cripple part.”

Positively seething, Kate stalked over to them, tapping the first agent on the shoulder and stating coolly, “You’re both dismissed. Expect a very unfavorable review from me in your permanent file.”

Caught, there was nothing either man could say or do; they could only leave without causing a scene that would get them into even more trouble.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I dismissed the two agents you assigned. They were trashing Tony.”

“In what way?”

“Take your pick,” Kate replied softly, but angrily. “Queer, or cripple. Their words.”

There was a brief silence before Gibbs said, “Focus on the job, Kate. We’ll deal with them later.”

Nodding, Kate returned her attention to the people at the graveside. The priest was finishing up the service, then there was the three gun salute and the flag given to Ben’s mother. It pissed her off that the Honor Guard bypassed Tony altogether, like he wasn’t even there, but there wasn’t any help for it. That was just how things were.

Thank God neither Abby nor I are military, she thought, the anger ratcheting up another notch. And that Gibbs isn’t nearly as much of an SOB as he likes to pretend.

The rain finally petered out and Kate folded up her umbrella as the sun tried to shine in fits and starts. The wind picked up, sending a shiver down her back, and started to push the remaining clouds out of the way. Everyone filed out except for Tony, leaving him almost too-sad to look at, sitting in his wheelchair beside the open grave. Casting a last look around, but seeing no one, Kate walked over to him and greeted, “How’re you doing?”

Looking strangely composed, not a tear in sight, Tony smiled at her and answered, “I’ve been better. Of course, I’ve been worse, too, all things considered. Hey, where’re Frick and Frack?”

Unable not to grin at the nick-names, Kate answered, “History. We’re taking over the detail.”

“Really?” Tony asked curiously. “How come?”

Falling into step beside him, Kate replied smartly, “Because you’re too much trouble for them to handle.”

He chuckled and agreed, “Always have been. How did Gibbs take you shit-canning them for being assholes?”

Though Kate knew that she shouldn’t have been surprised by Tony’s insight, she was. “They’ve said things in your hearing, haven’t they?”

“I can’t walk, but my ears work perfectly fine,” Tony confirmed, offering a wry twist of the lips. “Funny how people assume you’ve got more than one thing wrong with you when there’s a wheelchair involved.”

“You mean aside from being crazy?” Kate teased as they reached the parking lot.

Tony laughed at that, smiling up at her as he said, “That’s what I like about you, Kate. You’ve got the tact of a bull in a China shop.”

She chuckled and countered, “You should see me when I don’t care what people think.”

“Lord help us.”

Kate opened her mouth to agree when something glinted off to the side. Without stopping to think, she lunged at Tony, tackling him to the ground as bullets went off and she shouted, “Sniper! Gibbs! Northwest side of the cemetery!”

“On it! Keep him safe!” Gibbs barked back.

Using the wheelchair as cover, since there was nothing else around, Kate peered over the top of it, aiming her gun in the direction from which the bullets had come. There was only the three, though, no others following. She could see Gibbs and McGee racing through the parking lot towards the northwest side of the cemetery, but instinctively knew that the shooter was gone and probably wouldn’t leave any traces that he’d ever been there.

Tony groaned and asked, “Don’t suppose you could get off me now?”

Startled out of her focus, Kate shifted off him with an exclaimed, “Sorry! Jeeze, Tony, are you all right?”

Rubbing his head, Tony’s eyebrows arched in a strangely humorous way as he answered, “First time I’ve been sandbagged in about four years. I think I took it pretty well.”

She snorted and said, “Don’t move just yet. We need to wait for the all-clear.”

“I kinda have to move, Kate, or I’ll lose what little circulation to my legs that I’ve got left,” he replied lightly.

Taking another look at him, Kate saw taut lines of pain over his face and shifted her weight off of him, but stayed in the same position.

Gibbs finally came over the radio with, “All clear. Get DiNozzo to the van and we’ll meet you there.”

“If my friends could see me now, they’d take away my gay membership,” Tony observed a few minutes later, laughter battling with pain in his voice.

Kate looked down and found herself straddling his lap, skirt hiked up revealingly, and snorted. She lightly tapped him on the forehead. “Come on, DiNozzo, get your mind out of the gutter and your ass back in the chair.”

He smirked, which she ignored to set the chair back to rights. It took a few minutes to get him back on, he was heavier with muscle than she’d thought, but was settled moments after that. Kate got him into the van in short order and waited outside for Gibbs to show up. When he did, she observed, “Not a coincidence that they waited until after everyone was gone and the guards dismissed.”

“Nope,” Gibbs agreed, still looking around the cemetery.

“We’re his detail from now on?”

“Yep.”

“McGee and I’ll document the bullets and bring in the evidence.”

“See you back at NCIS.”

In accord, they split up into different directions.

* * * *

Partway back to NCIS, Jethro wondered if maybe he was making the wrong choice. Contrary to popular opinion, all rumors started by himself, he did get second thoughts when there were big decisions to be made. At least where the safety of those in his protection were concerned. Those he cared about.

And damn it, after less than a week, Jethro did care about one Tony DiNozzo.

“You weren’t surprised that someone showed up.” Tony’s voice broke into his thoughts.

Jethro shook his head. “Not really.”

“But...?”

He risked a quick glance at the other man, but there was no reading through that mask. “But what?”

“You’re holding something back,” Tony stated simply.

Not sure how Tony could read him so well after such a short time, and not really liking it very much, Jethro debated a moment, then admitted, “I am surprised they missed. We had no way of knowing where they’d be shooting from. They had a sniper’s rifle. They could’ve killed you twice now, but didn’t.”

“So you’re wondering what the hell is really going on.”

“Yeah.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, then said, “Wish I could help you out, Agent Gibbs, but I haven’t a clue.”

Wanting nothing so much as to wipe away the lines of pain and stress, Jethro did neither as he pulled into a parking spot. He paused for a long moment, hand on the keys, then looked at Tony and said, “You can help me out, and you will. We just have to figure out how.”

Tony gave him a lopsided grin. “I have no doubt that if anyone can find a way to figure this thing out, it’s you, Agent Gibbs.”

Jethro looked away on the pretext of leaving the van to go around and help Tony out of it. In reality, the certainty in Tony’s gaze was more than a little unnerving for him. He’d let down too many people in his life up to then and made a silent vow that Tony wouldn’t be added to the list.