Title: Day 11
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: PG
Pairing: Tony/Gibbs
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my 'verse. I don't get paid a cent to play. Please don't sue and make things worse.
Summary: Tony doesn’t want to desert  Gibbs after a difficult day on the job.
Note: Part of the 12 Ficlets in 12 Days project 2011-2012. Requested by Anonymous

Day 11

It was the worst plane crash in the area since 9-11 and everyone was on edge. Once the rescue teams gave up and moved out and the area was declared safe, NCIS moved in. A dozen teams scoured the wreckage for clues and to recover bodies. Ducky and the other MEs on-site had the unhappy job of piecing people back together and trying to identify each, but every hand was needed in the search.

It didn’t help that it was possibly the coldest night of the year and lots of NCIS agents had been out of town visiting family for the winter holidays. Being short of staff meant everyone on scene had to work just that much harder. And longer. In the freezing cold. By the time the sun rose, everyone’s gloved hands were numb and their feet were merely things trudging along from one square foot to the other.

Tony looked up and took a moment to rub his runny nose in the crook of his arm. The damn thing had been running nonstop all night, and he’d gotten tired of constantly sniffling around five a.m. and had resorted to rubbing after that. McGee was still in the sniffling stage. And, apparently, the yawning stage. It was painful to feel and watch, so Tony did what he had to in order to eliminate one of the two. “Hey, probie. You look beat. Why don’t you take an hour? Go get a hot drink at the food station and take a nap in the car.”

McGee looked grateful and immediately abandoned the search for bodies in search of warmth and sleep. When he returned an hour later, he seemed groggy but better, and he didn’t sniff any more.

It was almost ten a.m. when Gibbs retrieved his team. Others continued the search, but they had positive IDs on eight of the soldiers so far, matching the passenger list, and that was somewhere to start at least. And it was warm back at the Navy Yard. But Gibbs insisted they go home for a couple hours first to clean up and change. They all smelled of ashes and smoke and dead bodies.

Gibbs and Tony drove home together in silence. There wasn’t anything to say, but there was some comfort in the fact that they had the same profession and they’d both been through that together.

“Do you want the shower first?” Tony asked, heading toward the bathroom.

Gibbs shook his head. “Sleep,” he grunted, and headed for the bed.

Tony ducked into the bathroom to strip down and blow his nose to great relief. When he emerged, Gibbs was in bed and halfway to sleep already. Tony slipped under the covers, trying not to disturb him, but Gibbs immediately pulled him close and wrapped a strong arm around him. “You’re shaking,” Gibbs observed. They both knew it didn’t have much to do with the freezing cold temperatures outside. 

“So are you.” Tony snuggled close, putting his arm around Gibbs. “But we can keep each other safe now.” Utterly exhausted and run down, he was asleep before he stopped shivering.

*

“Have you seen Tony?”

McGee looked up from his desk. Ziva looked just a little worried, so he answered with humor. “Uh, yeah. Greenish-hazel eyes, brown hair, about 6’ 2”, goofy grin?”

Ziva sighed. “I meant: have you seen him lately? He has been spending an inordinate amount of time in the restroom. Either something is wrong or he is leaving us with all this work on purpose.” She glanced toward Tony’s desk, then the hallway. “Perhaps I should go look for him.”

“What, in the men’s restroom? Ziva, I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been in there before. But if something were really wrong with him, he wasn’t likely to admit it to Ziva. “Maybe I could go find him…”

“I’ll go.” Gibbs was already up, rising from his chair, both hands on his desk. Tim jumped, not realizing his conversation with Ziva had been overhead. But Ziva nodded and then scanned the list in front of her to make another call.

Gibbs headed to the restroom. At first glance, it seemed empty, but then he recognized Tony’s expensive shoes poking out beneath the door of one of the stalls. He heard a soft sniffle and Gibbs’ heart skipped a beat. “Tony?”

There was another sniffle and the toilet flushed. A few seconds later, Tony stood before him. The man looked exhausted, though that was how they all felt. And he looked pale. Unusually pale. There was a strange look in his eyes as well. Had he been crying? Had this case gotten to him more than Gibbs had realized? It was horrible, and nightmarish, that was for sure. Or was something worse than the case affecting him? “Tony, did you get sick to your stomach?”

Tony shook his head at once. “No. I just needed a minute.”

Gibbs nodded. He trusted Tony to not lie to him. “You look cold. Are you still shivering?” Instead of waiting for an answer, he moved forward and put both arms around Tony. He rubbed his hand rapidly up and down Tony’s back. The shivering continued. It was very faint, but there. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?” Again, he didn’t let Tony answer. He stepped back and pressed the back of his hand to Tony’s forehead. It wasn’t unusually hot. He flipped his hand over, feeling with his palm pressed and curved right against Tony’s skin. He felt the man’s cheeks while he was at it. Warm but not hot. Yet… when he looked into Tony’s eyes, there was a haziness there, like fever.

Tony pulled back, putting on a smile that didn’t fool Gibbs one bit. “I’ll get back to work. I know there’s a lot to do. I’m not going to let you down.”

Gibbs kissed his forehead and, just as Tony was warming to an unusual bit of affection while on the job, came the slap to the back of his head.

“What was that for?”

“For hiding out in the bathroom when you know there’s work to be done.”

This time, Tony’s grin was a little more genuine.

Gibbs left the bedroom and, when Tony got back to his desk, he found his coat resting on his chair. He glanced over at Gibbs, who gave a brief, tiny smile as Tony pulled the coat on for warmth and sat down at his desk to work.

*

Ziva had been correct. Tony really was taking a lot of bathroom breaks. After the third in as many hours, Gibbs’ suspicions were on high alert. While McGee was down checking with Abby about the results of a test and Ziva was checking on the updated list of recovered bodies with Ducky down in Autopsy, Gibbs went over to Tony’s desk. It looked like Tony was doing work. But there were a few balled-up napkins in the trashcan and some disposable ice packs on the chair. So that was it. Tony really was sick; he was just trying to hide it.

Someone else might have gotten away with it. Tony was excellent at being sneaky, but he was dealing with Gibbs here and Gibbs was a detective. And, besides, Gibbs could be sneaky when he wanted to be as well.

Tony returned to his desk a few minutes later, and was entirely unable to find a pen. Funny how that happened. He searched around under papers and folders and even under his mouse pad. Finally, he gave up and checked the top desk drawer. He practically jumped in surprise. Then he plunged his hand in and, using the desk drawer to hide his actions, he popped two decongestant pills out of a blister pack and snuck them into his mouth. There was a small bottle of water in the drawer as well. Gibbs watched as Tony swallowed and winced at the pain of doing so. But then he went to work, with only a glance toward Gibbs, who pretended not to notice the look.

Ziva returned with news of three more bodies completed and McGee said Abby was still running prints on everything recovered from what had once been the cockpit. Most of it was burned and twisted beyond recognition, but there were a few pieces than had been buried so far down in the impact that layers of wreckage provided a buffer.

“McGee?” Gibbs spoke up, once they were all back together. “Go get us coffees?” It was a command, not a question, but not one something Gibbs usually gave.

“Uh…” McGee looked around, as if his boss might be talking to some other McGee. Then his pocket buzzed with a text message. He looked even more surprised to get it and immediately made eye contact with Gibbs. Gibbs couldn’t handle normal technology on the best of days, so he was sure Tony wouldn’t suspect. And his text message didn’t use any of those awful abbreviations. It had taken about ten minutes to type the whole thing out on his blasted phone and figure out how to send it, but apparently it had worked. “Yeah, sure, boss.” McGee got up and left to get coffees for all—and a specific tea for Tony.

When Tony got up next to use the restroom, not ten minutes later, Gibbs cleared his throat. “Prostate trouble, DiNozzo?”

Tony flushed. “Uh, no, boss. Just… stretching my sniff, sniff legs.” He tried to make rubbing his nose look casual, but Gibbs was not fooled. He was pretty certain Tony was ducking over to the bathroom to sneeze where he couldn’t be overheard. It was silly and unnecessary.

Still, Gibbs couldn’t exactly confine Tony to his desk. So he waved his hand. “Make it quick. We’ve got a case here.”

“Right, boss.”

Tony got back just as McGee returned. Somehow, the list of people he had been assigned to contact had been shorted significantly and Ziva’s had just about doubled in size. Tony pretended he didn’t notice this. But he did notice that his pens and pencils had all gone missing again. This time, he went straight for his desk drawer and found a small tissue box waiting for him.

Tony smiled to himself, then helped himself to one and rubbed at his nose with it under the pretense of just scratching an itch on his cheek.  

“They were out of coffee,” McGee said, sounding genuinely apologetic. He plunked a cup down on Ziva’s desk and placed one on Gibbs’. He gave himself a coffee as well, but gave Tony the tea. “Had to get you tea.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “The coffee shop was out of coffee, probie?”

“Yep. There was chaos over there because of it. Not a pretty scene at all. Drink up, Tony.”

Tony took a cautious sip of the steaming hot liquid and winced. “Well, at least it’s got caffeine in it,” he grumbled. But he took another sip as soon as McGee looked away. And he helped himself to another tissue in his desk drawer, folding it into the palm of his hand in order to wipe his nose discretely.

Hours slowly ticked by. They made phone calls. They looked into the backgrounds of pilots and then of all the victims. Nothing of any use at all occurred until Gibbs got a phone call from Ducky. “On my way,” Gibbs said, hanging up the phone. He glanced at Tony, wondering if he should ask the man along, then thinking better of it. Tony had zipped his coat up all the way to stay warm. Autopsy always ran colder, in order to preserve the bodies. So Gibbs went alone.

“Ah, Jethro. Thank you for getting here so quickly. Mr. Palmer and I have been examining the remains of the bodies from the accident.” Assuming it was an accident. “We found something interesting.” Ducky led him over to a slab. “This man isn’t on the roster.”

The man in question was little more than a couple bones. “You’re sure these don’t belong to one of the other bodies, Duck?”

Ducky nodded. “It’s true we’re still piecing them together. However, there were fifty-eight soldiers on that plane and we have one hundred and eighteen femurs. So unless several people had two legs…”

Gibbs patted Ducky on the back. This was good work. “You have an ID yet?”

“I don’t have the skull yet to do dental records. There’s not a lot I can do with the bones here, but when we find more, I may be able to give you a good sense of the man’s height and build, which may aid in identification.”

Gibbs’ next stop was Abby’s lab. He arrived just as one of her monitors started beeping, just in time to see her jump in the air, arms over her head in triumph.

“Got something for me, Abs?”

She wheeled around. Gone were the days when she was surprised to see him there. She just cocked her head and grinned at him. “I found a partial print on the bottom of one of the steering columns and it doesn’t belong to anyone in Navy. But I’ve got a match anyway.”

Gibbs stepped over to the monitor. “Maxwell Forrester. Civilian contractor.”

“He works ground crew at the base where the plane took off. There’s no reason he would ever be in the cockpit, not even for servicing.”

“Good work, Abs.”

“Caf-Pow good?”

He nodded, but he didn’t have one for her. He hadn’t even thought about leaving to go get one down the street. Even being away from Tony for this long was starting to make him edgy. “I owe you one.” She handed him the printout of the results, including the man’s photo ID, and he kissed her temple before leaving.

When Gibbs got back, he tossed the papers onto Ziva’s desk, because Tony’s was empty. Again. “Look into this guy. Abby found a print and Ducky might have found a body.”

Gibbs headed to the bathroom. He could hear Tony sneezing from outside. The man wasn’t even trying to be quiet about it by now. And Gibbs was tired of pretending he didn’t know. Gibbs burst into the bathroom to find Tony sitting on the floor, beneath the sinks, a roll of toilet paper at his side and a giant bunch pressed to his nose. He looked up at Gibbs and cringed. “Dot goig to be able to cover this up, ab I?” Tony snuffled into the tissues, then his eyes squinted shut. “Ahftchuhhhhh!”

“Bless ya.” Gibbs squatted down in front of Tony, reached into his pocket, and brought out a tissue. As Tony blew his nose gratefully, Gibbs sighed. “Actually, I’m kind of curious to see how you’d explain this one.”

Tony looked up with a slight smile. “This case… it’s getting to all of us. Sniff! I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging. I can work, I just… need to sneeze too.”

Gibbs couldn’t help but laugh. Tony was too loyal for his own damn good. He reached out and touched the back of his hand to Tony’s forehead again. This time, it burned with fever, just as expected. If it had just been the fever, Gibbs might have let it slide. But that congestion didn’t sound good at all and Tony’s little colds didn’t usually end up simple after he had the plague. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to finish up your day here and, instead of working late, I’m going to take you home.”

Tony nodded. “You gonna tell… ahhh… ahhh-HITChuhhh! Sniff! Sniff! You godda tell Brobie add Ziva I caught a cold?”

Gibbs leaned under the sink and kissed Tony’s nose. “Bless you. And they don’t need me to tell them anything. They know.”  

Tony grumbled. “Doesd’t bead I wadt to… to…”

“To sneeze?”

Tony nodded, mouth hanging open, eyes closed. “To…ahhh-Hatchishhhhh! Sniff!” Tony looked at the soggy tissue in his hand and the roll of government-issued toilet paper on the floor beside him. “Haved’t got ady bore of those Kleedexes, have you?”

Gibbs pulled one out of his pocket and handed it over. Tony blew his nose repeatedly, snuffling and wiping and rubbing. Then he coughed and closed his eyes. “Just because they know, doesn’t mean I want to sneeze like this in front of them.”

“Fair enough. When you’re finished sneezing, I expect to see you back at your desk.”

Tony nodded again, and then he turned his head, burying his nose in the crook of his arm. “ahhhChufff! Ah-Hushfffff! Ehpt-tshffffff! EHHHHHPhshffffffffff!”

*

Tony couldn’t stop shivering, and Gibbs wasn’t about to stop the car for anything. “Ahhh-Gifshehhhhh!” Tony sneezed into his hand and groaned, cupping his wet hand to his face. Then he reached over to Gibbs with his dry hand and snuck a tissue out of Gibbs’ pocket. The man seemed to have a never-ending supply there, just ready for Tony to help himself to while Gibbs drove.

Tony had been feeling sick for less than a day, but already his nose felt sore and his head felt thick with congestion. There was a rasp in every breath he took; he didn’t think Gibbs had heard it yet. He couldn’t remember having such a bad cold come on so quickly, but spending all night outside in sub-zero weather certainly couldn’t have helped it.

When they arrived at the house, Tony was reluctant to get out of the car. It was cold outside, and the car was at least relatively warm.

Gibbs chuckled and got out. He walked around to Tony’s side and opened the door. Then he reached, unbuckled Tony, and pulled him out right into a tight hug. “Don’t worry. I’ve gotcha,” he whispered, and Tony relaxed into him.

Once inside, they headed straight for the bedroom. Tony targeted the bed, looking forward to heavy, warm blankets and Gibbs to keep him warm. But Gibbs steered him toward the shower instead. Gibbs ran the water in the shower to warm the room as he removed Tony’s clothes. He was systematic about it—clinical even. No fun at all. And that meant Gibbs was worried about him; maybe he’d heard that rasp after all. To counter it, Tony started to take Gibbs’ clothes off, unbuttoning his shirt, untying his shoelaces, undoing his belt.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gibbs asked, holding a hand under the water to check the temperature of the shower.

“You’re… ahhh… wait… gotta sneeze…” Tony looked around the bathroom. He didn’t want to use toilet paper again if he didn’t have to. Gibbs bend down and retrieved a tissue box from the cabinet beneath the sink and offered it over just in time. Tony cupped two tissues to his face. “ahhh-H’shuhhh!”

“Bless ya.”

“Thadks. Sniff! Sniffffff!”

“Blow your nose, Tony.”

He didn’t need telling twice. He cleared his throat. “What I was trying to say is that if you’re making me take a shower, I’m making you come in with me.”

“Tony… I know your libido, but nothing’s going to happen. You’re sick.”

“I noticed. Sniff! Look, I feel utterly miserable and it’ll make me feel better if you come in there with me.” All it took was a little shiver for Gibbs to instantly have his arms around Tony again. And then, when he helped Tony into the shower, he followed.