thefrogg | Fic: No Good Scheme Goes Unpunished, or When Sporks Fly (NCIS, Gibbs/DiNozzo, NC17)

Title: No Good Scheme Goes Unpunished, or When Sporks Fly, Chapter 5
Authors:

thefrogg
Fandom: NCIS
Beta: Each other?
Pairing: Gibbs/Tony
Warnings: Hurt/comfort, well-meaning hostage taking, coarse language, m/m sex
Summary: Abby, Ziva and McGee think Gibbs and Tony need to confess their true feelings to one another and set up a plan to force them together. Hilarity and angst ensue.
Previous chapter: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

"You three. Conference room. Now."

Abby, McGee and Ziva scrambled to obey, all but running to outpace Gibbs even with his route from the back staircase. Abby barely made it to the elevator in front of him, one hand over her mouth, the other scrubbing futilely at the teartracks staining her face.

Surprisingly, it was McGee who managed a shaky, "Is, is Tony--"

"What, you think I'd leave Tony alone if he were dead, McGee?" Gibbs asked with deadly calm once the doors shut. "You think I wouldn't have the three of you in lockup? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you up on charges. Because I can think of plenty, starting with attempted murder with special circumstances."

"With special circum..." Abby squeaked.

"Tony's claustrophobic. The first panic attack hit less than twenty minutes after we were locked in. By itself, it wouldn't have been a threat, but Tony's lungs are scarred, and you know that." Gibbs took a few shallow breaths before adding, "He spent all night being tortured."

McGee swallowed; Abby let out a choked sob, muffled behind the hands clapped over her mouth; Ziva muttered something in Hebrew that probably didn't need translation. The only comfort they had was that Gibbs didn't seem able to make eye contact any more than they could, but whether that was from anger or betrayal, they didn't know.

"I trusted you. I trusted you with Tony." The past tense made them flinch. "If you had a problem with the way we treat each other, you could have talked to me, or Tony, or Ducky, or even Vance, I don't care. Hell, locking us in made the point. But you didn't stop with just that. You blocked our cell phones. You told people to stay away from the lab. You systematically removed every possible way we could have gotten help, or free ourselves. That was criminal. You know this building isn't impregnible. If there'd been a fire, or an intruder, or, oh, hey, if one of us just so happened to be claustrophobic..."

"We didn't know. We were trying..." Ziva started, ran out of air and had to gasp for breath. "To protect you. And Tony."

"From what, or who? Vance? He knows. He doesn't give a damn. That's why Tony and I could relax, at least a little."

"Just how long have you and Tony..." McGee asked, confused and half-hearted.

"Since before Morrow left."

"Jenny." Ziva's eyes were flicking back and forth rapidly as she pieced together the pieces.

"Jenny." Gibbs nodded slightly. "If she'd had any idea, she would have split us up and Tony would have suffered for it. Vance, he doesn't care. I'll probably be retired before he leaves."

"Are, are you going to fire us?"

"McGee."

"Yes, boss." There was real fear in his voice, his body at attention and trembling.

"You haven't begun to grovel yet."

"No, boss."

There was a long silence then, everyone trying to control their breathing. Then Gibbs let out an enraged snarl and slammed his fist sideways into the wall. Everyone jumped. "This is what's going to happen." Gibbs took a deep breath and turned slightly, finally meeting their eyes. "I am going to take Tony home. You are going to go work cold cases unless Vance tells you otherwise. If he has something for you to do, you do it, no ifs ands or buts. I don't care if you have to scrub out the evidence locker with your toothbrush. If you try to resign, I will have you up on charges so fast your grandmother's head will spin. You run, I will hunt you down and spork you to death, nice and slow and messy, just like I promised Tony I would. You understand?"

"Spork us to...?" Ziva sounded bewildered.

"They're those plastic spoon-fork combos, you know, like the ones Tony keeps in his desk," Abby answered quietly, shoulders hunched.

"Yes, Abby, I know what--"

"You think this is a joke."

"No, no, not at all," Abby rushed to get the words out, "it's just that, I never really heard it used as a verb before, and it's a typically Tony method of killing, so, you know, it's sort of...poetic." She bit her lower lip hard, until a thin trickle of blood trailed down her chin. "Tony is okay, isn't he? I mean, he's not on his way to the hospital or anything?"

"I don't know, Abby. He's outside with Ducky, and he was breathing and coherent when I came back in. Physically he seems to be recovering."

"Physically."

Gibbs glared at Ziva. "What part of 'claustrophobic' and 'being tortured' didn't you understand? He was fine before, when he had a case to focus on. Now? I don't know. He'll be lucky to get back in the field."

"Can we see him? I mean," and McGee almost withered as Gibbs' glare was turned on him. "I'd like to, to apologize, and--"

"What kind of apology makes up for twelve hours of torture, McGee?"

"Gibbs. It wasn't intentional." Ziva's voice came sharp and desperate. "We're a team, what are we supposed to do, just let this go? You aren't, and Tony won't, and if we can't even talk to him, then--"

"I am taking Tony home to sleep. I'll probably wind up building a gazebo in the backyard because he can't stand having walls around him without hyperventilating. If and when he comes back to the office you can start your campaign, but you don't ever put his life in danger again, you hear me?"

A soft chorus of "Yes, boss" answered him before he disengaged the emergency stop.

"Then get to work."

~~~

“Hippopotamus.”

Ducky looked up from his watch and gripped Tony’s wrist a little harder. Hallucinations were not a good sign. “Tony …?”

Tony flopped an arm toward the cloud-dappled sky. “That cloud,” he said dreamily. “It looks like a hippopotamus.”

Ducky let out a breath. “Don’t scare me like that, Anthony.” And then, curiosity getting the better of him, he looked skyward. “Which cloud?”

“The one that looks like a hippo, Duck. That way,” he managed to keep his arm aloft this time, and directed his companion’s gaze.

Ducky squinted and smiled. It did look like a hippo, complete with toothy grin. “Did I ever tell you about the time mother and I went on safari? We encountered some hippopotami one night while crossing a river. Quite fearsome creatures, I must say. Mother, of course, wasn’t fazed for a moment. She ….”

~~~

"Gibbs! My office," Vance said as Gibbs left the elevator, voice just loud enough to carry over the normal early-morning noise of the office.

"Yes, sir."

Vance suppressed all sign of irritation at the flippant answer, just retreated behind his desk and waited for Gibbs to join him. "Close the door. I'd offer you a seat, but--"

"No, thank you." Gibbs' expression was blandly neutral, sure sign of impatience.

"How is he?" Vance asked once the door had swung shut.

"He who, Director?"

Now Vance allowed himself a small glare. "Don't play coy with me, Gibbs, you know who."

Gibbs' jaw clenched.

"Is Tony all right?" A kind of wary expectation filled the silence before he added, gently, "Physically speaking."

Some measure of tension left Gibbs' posture; not all of it, not even close, but enough to signal his understanding that this was unofficial. Off the record, and informal. Confidential. "Recovering. Ducky's with him." As I should be, Leon could read in his eyes.

"What happened?" Leon watched as impotent anger and anguish thinned Jethro's lips. "Or would you rather have me guess?"

"They locked us in." It came out as a choked-off snarl.

Frozen, Leon watched as Jethro slowly prowled the open space in his office, saw the clenched fists raise tendons through thin white skin. "And Tony's claustrophobia?" The question was carefully spoken, and got only a jerky headshake in response. "Will he recover?"

"I don't--I..." Jethro swallowed hard, and swiped the back of one hand across his eyes; he couldn't seem to finish.

Leon sighed. If Tony wasn't able to return, if his mild claustrophobia had blown up into a crippling handicap, Jethro wouldn't stay. He knew that. They both did. "Have you thought about how you're going to get Tony home? I can't imagine confining him to a car is going to be easy at this point."

Jethro let out a strangled laugh. "Ducky's still giving him a physical, Leon."

"I'll take that as a no," Leon said with wry amusement and picked up a keyring from the desktop, tossing it to Jethro. "Here."

Jethro made a clumsy - for him - one handed catch, clutching the keys to his chest. "What's this?"

"Keys to a 2004 Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder convertible. I took the liberty of signing it out to you until further notice."

"Wait. You knew--" Jethro's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Jethro, however much Tony goofs off and annoys the rest of NCIS, you and I both know he's one of the best agents here." That got him a snort. "He habitually sends me notice of any after-hours testing being done for your cases. I got the fake notice I'm guessing McGee sent, but since I was out of the office yesterday, I didn't read it until I got in this morning. Between that, the lack of Tony's usual note, the rest of your team in a panic, and you furious and in yesterday's clothes...I'm not here just because I play politics well."

"Leon."

Leon raised an eyebrow in askance. "Jethro?"

"I don't know what to say. Except...thank you." His voice sounded tight.

"Just protecting NCIS assets." Jethro snorted again. "What do you want to do about McGee, Ziva and Abby?"

"They're working cold cases. Unless you want to come up with some really...distasteful chores for them." Anger crept back into his voice. "Hold off on...anything else."

Leon smiled. "I think I can manage to find something...appropriate. Look, it's Wednesday. Given the situation and your recent caseload...Take the rest of the week. Call me Monday morning if he's still having problems."

"Will do. And thank you."

"You're welcome. Now get out of here - some of us have work to do."

Leon was treated to Jethro's laughter as he left the office. Strained, yes, but still.

~~~

Tony smiled as Ducky got lost in his story. This is nice. Cool air, soft grass, no walls. I could stay out here all day. Or forever. Forever would be good. Better if Gibbs were here. Speaking of whom …

“Ducky.”

“…guide was screaming and there was mother, rifle in hand while … yes Tony?”

“When is Gibbs coming back?”

“I’m sure he’ll be back as soon as possible, Tony. He won’t leave you alone any longer than he has to.”

Tony smiled. “Left me a sitter.” He watched as the hippo morphed into the Indian subcontinent.

Ducky looked fondly down at Tony. The younger man did look better – less ashen, his eyes more focused – but his thoughts were still somewhat erratic. He checked his watch.

“How long?”

“Just 15 minutes, Tony. Not long at all.”

Tony frowned. Why was he on the ground? Where was Gibbs?

“Tony?”

Tony’s breath sped up.

“Oh, dear. Tony, look at me.”

The Indian subcontinent blurred into a formless mass. Black dots danced in front of his eyes. Someone was calling him, but it wasn’t the person he wanted there. “Whr’s Gibbs?”

Whap!

Tony blinked. And sucked in a deep breath. The cloud turned back into India. “Ducky?”

Ducky let out a deep breath and took Tony’s wrist back up. “Thank goodness. You gave me a bit of scare for a moment.”

“Did you hit me?”

Ducky snorted and laid Tony’s wrist back down so that he could pry open an eyelid and check Tony’s pupil response. “It seems to work when Gibbs does it.”

Tony pouted. “I’m telling Gibbs on you.”

“Telling me what?”

~~~