SquidgeWorld Archive

Chapter Text

NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs suddenly decided he'd had just about enough of this shit.

As he crouched uncomfortably on the hard, metal edge at the bottom of the tall staircase fixed to the side of the decaying, almost-deserted warehouse he and his team had under surveillance, Gibbs touched a damp fingertip to the wick in his left ear, closed his eyes to aid his concentration, and strained to hear something of the muted conversation taking place within the semi-darkened interior of the building. The continual distracting rhythm of the unexpected downpour was not only thoroughly soaking him but, worse, was interfering with the reception needed to hear clearly and, above all else, *that* was unexceptable.

The murky illumination from a distant street lamp threw the surrounding water-covered concrete and asphalt into mirrored pools of liquid silver and turned the old, brick facade into a slick, wet surface of shimmering luminosity. Glancing quickly around, he checked the security of his position and determined he was still concealed and well within parameters to safely move, if necessary, without being detected. He realized he needed to get closer...the noises coming through the earpiece, though sporadic and jumbled, didn't bode well for the undercover agent inside but he understood the importance of not intervening until all the incriminating evidence was presented and secured.

Raising a hand close to his mouth, Gibbs spoke into the small mic strapped to the inside of his wrist and hoped the occupants of the unmarked van parked at the very end of the long block were picking up a clearer signal. With the force of the rain now, he supposed the inside of the vehicle probably sounded much like the interior of a tin-roofed barn during a hail storm. Momentarily pressing his lips together into a grim line, Gibbs, nonetheless, attempted communication.

"McPherson, you copy?" He asked as loud as he dared under the circumstances.

A brief moment of static erupted before a clear voice responded. "I copy, Gibbs."

"What do you hear from inside?"

Another pause. "Our man's being questioned again. Same stuff as before." McPherson's words faded for an instant and Gibbs frowned. "...sounds pretty angry. Martinez is speaking to his guards in Spanish...his tone is agitated. Can you hear any of this at all?" There was an exasperated sigh. "Our agent is responding in Spanish now. Hell, Gibbs, how am I suppose..."

"Just listen for the damn signal, McPherson!" Gibbs barked in frustration, allowing his discontent to bleed over the wire. He hated having to rely on members from another team, much less another agency, and, even though both were profecient in their jobs, he couldn't help wishing Tim McGee could be in two places at once. Yep, a cloned McGee sure would be handy right about now...

"Gibbs," Ziva David's accented voice sounded in his ear.

"Go ahead," he quickly responded, eyes continually scanning the immediate area.

"I'm moving closer. Sounds to me like things are getting a bit rough in there."

Gibbs felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise and touched the ear wick again, straining to get some sense from the man in the command van of just exactly what was happening. He could barely make out the conversation being relayed to the recording devices in the vehicle but thought he could detect the sound of his agent's voice or the words of the Bralizian chemist they'd been tracking in partnership with the FBI but, one thing was certain, the tone of the dialogue coming from the inside the warehouse wasn't good.

"Fornell," Gibbs spoke again into his wrist mic, "things are heating up. I'm not going to wait much longer."

Another round of static assailed his ear and he grimaced, wanting nothing more than to rip the damned device away and toss it into the nearest puddle. A bright flash of lightening split the dark sky and illuminated his position, momentarily blinding him with it's intensity.

"Gibbs, wait!" Fornell's strident tones were suddenly very clear. "We need Martinez to willingly make the exchange. If he doesn't hand over those documents and discs, this whole operation will have been for nothing."

"Well, does it *sound* like he's about to give DiNozzo anything willingly?" The NCIS agent sneered at his FBI counterpart, pulling his weapon from the holster, and stepping clear of the metal staircase at his back. "McGee?"

"Here, Boss," came the quick reply, clear and void of any worrisome noise.

"Tighten up and wait for my go."

"Got it, Boss."

"Ziva?"

"Here," the alert response was immediate.

"Get ready."

"Gibbs!" Fornell's voice was almost shrill. "You can't..."

The unexpected screech of static sent Gibbs reaching hastily for the ear wick, the sudden shriek piercing painfully, making the ex-Marine grunt in discomfort. He tore at the device and yanked it out, biting back his moan when the disturbing sound of gunfire erupted from within the warehouse. Quickly raising the mic to his lips and sprinting toward the closest entrance, he pushed the thoughts of what he might find inside away and focused on the job.

"Go! Go!" Gibbs yelled, hearing more gunfire and the urgent shouts of the others involved.

Kicking in the flimsy panel, Gibbs immediately met an unknown trying to allude capture and wrestled the him to the floor, finally clipping the big man with the butt of his pistol and sending him sprawling. Clicking the cuffs around one of the meaty wrists as swiftly as he could, Gibbs secured the other end to a heavy, metal ring imbedded conveniently in the cold, concrete and moved on, determined to get to his agent as quickly as possible. He could hear the yells of the other agents as they plainly identified themselves and shouted the requisite 'clear!', rounding a corner just in time to see his undercover agent rise from the floor, yanking a smaller, balding man up by the scruff of his coat and giving him a good shake. Gibbs' eyes tracked to the other two unknowns, satisfied they were no longer any trouble and being secured by Fornell and his team. He caught sight of McGee and David approaching but focused totally on his undercover agent.

"You all right, DiNozzo?" he asked briskly, holstering his weapon and stepping closer to examine the small gash on the younger man's chin, quickly dismissing it as too minor for concern.

"Yeah, Boss," the green eyes flashed in anger as the man in his hold tried to squirm loose, "but Doctor Martinez here seems to think he doesn't need to behave." DiNozzo shook the man again. "Hold still, you little shit! Can't you see it's all over now?"

The Brazilian blinked angrily up at DiNozzo, swiveled his head just enough to glance at Gibbs, and suddenly began to laugh, the small chuckles and snickers growing rapidly into loud, almost uncontrollable braying, the intensity and volume making him appear quite wild and extremely insane. Between the spasms of mirth, he began to speak to no one in particular but to everyone in general, the Spanish coming rapidly, in bursts like machine gun fire, peppered with a sprinkling of English and Portuguese that made DiNozzo frown and step suddenly away, his face twisting with something akin to disbelief.

DiNozzo's rapid and unexpected retreat forced Gibbs to step forward and take control of the chemist, shoving him into the arms of McGee and David, and carefully watching as his senior field agent slowly reached around with one hand to pluck something like a dart from the back of his left thigh. DiNozzo's face blanched, eyes lifting to meet the concerned gaze of his boss, and then offered a bleak smile.

"Well, this is just great," he whispered with a touch of sarcasm, fingers releasing the object into the outstretched hand of his superior, cool digits caressing the warmer palm for only a second before dropping away.

Gibbs immediately looked down and bit back a scream of denial. He swiftly turned to where McGee and David had herded the crazed Brazilian and grabbed the smaller man by the front of the coat, giving the still-babbling doctor a rough shake of his own, determined to get all the necessary information he could, no matter what he had to do. He knew the chemist could see the resolve in his cold, blue eyes but could only growl when the unsane laughing intensified as the little man continued to stare at DiNozzo.

"Enjoy the trip," Martinez giggled crazily, his broken English even harder to understand through the continual laughter.

Gibbs slammed a fist hard into the soft, unprotected belly, effectively stopping the sounds coming from the little man, and immediately heard the startled surprise from those around him. He ignored McGee's gasped exclamation and David's hiss of astonishment but couldn't keep the two FBI agents from pulling him away from his intended target, especially with Fornell all but yelling some nonsense about filing charges of brutality against his team. Gibbs shook loose from the pairs of strong hands and whirled to confront Fornell, shoving the retrieved item into the man's face.

"The bastard's injected something into DiNozzo, Tobias!" He seethed, handing the FBI agent the now-empty syringe and watching as the other man's eyes rounded with sudden understanding. "We need to find out what was in this thing or we may *all* be in a world of hurt."

"Killing him isn't going to get you any answers, Jethro," Fornell tried to sympathize and looked closer at the wicked-looking instrument in his hand.

"Boss..."

"Well, it's a lot better than just letting him stand there laughing like some damned hyena!" He reached for the impliment but Fornell eluded the move. "Give it to me, Tobias."

"Boss..."

"Martinez is important to the government, Gibbs. You know we can't harm him in any way, that we have to turn him over...and we have to keep this," he indicated the object in his hand, "as evidence."

"I'm not letting him or that syringe out of my sight!" Gibbs hissed, standing toe to toe with his counterpart. "I don't give a damn what kind of information he has our government is so keen on collecting, he assaulted an agent with a concealed weapon and..."

"Boss, please..."

Gibbs whirled at the sound of the plea and cursed under his breath, stepping away from Fornell and back toward his agent. He could plainly see the apprehension and the confusion in the younger man's face but also saw a hint of something he didn't like. He reached to place a tentative hand on DiNozzo's arm and was surprised when the touch was easily avoided.

"DiNozzo?" He questioned the evasive move with a frown.

"Ah, might be a good idea if you didn't touch me now, Boss," the younger man's eyes pleaded for understanding. He took a deep, steadying breath and shifted nervously from foot to foot. "I'm beginning to feel a little strange..."

Martinez's renewed laugh was like a knife to the gut.

"...and I know I'm usually the last one to admit it but, you know, maybe I should be getting to the hospital or something...now."

Again Martinez laughed and said something in Spanish. Gibbs saw his agent's face grow tight and pale and he stepped closer, ready to offer aid.

"What he say?" He demanded, waiting until the green eyes focused on his face.

"He told me," DiNozzo swallowed thickly and rubbed a shaky hand across his mouth, eyes suddenly losing their focus, "I should...thank him for the journey I'm going to be taking, that I would soon...feel like a kid again."

"Tony," Gibbs began and was almost caught off-guard when the agent's eyes abruptly rolled up whitely, the lanky body slumping and heading fast to the floor. The former Marine quickly threw his arms around DiNozzo and turned, easing the unresisting form slowly the rest of the way and in a better position to monitor his condition. "McGee!"

"EMTs are just coming in now, Boss," McGee reported efficiently, voice quavering slightly, dropping to the ground on the other side of DiNozzo's shivering form and immediately placing a hand on his fallen co-worker's shoulder. "They've been on stand-by for..."

"We need to know what was in that syringe," Gibbs interrupted with a hiss and looked at McGee pointedly. "We need to get it to Abby."

McGee's eyes went wide. "Boss, that's...that's FBI evidence."

"It's evidence that just may save DiNozzo's life!" He barked and watched as the young man flinched back.

"Hey...hey," came a mumbled rebuke from the man under their hands, his awareness surprising them both, "no fighting allowed..."

"DiNozzo?"

"Yeah...I'm still here," came the slow, slurred response. "Feel kind of...funny..."

Gibbs gritted his teeth at the soft confession but hardened his heart and his resolve. "I need for you to stay with me, DiNozzo. Do you understand? No more passing out or falling to the floor. You hear me?"

"Hhhmmm...yeah, I..." another thick swallow and the eyes finally slit open, "...I got it."

Gibbs became vaguely aware of Fornell and his team, along with Officer David, sweeping the rest of the area and securing the surviving prisoners, evidence, and, more importantly, the briefcase they all knew belonged to Doctor Emilio Martinez. He wanted to get up and snatch the newly-bagged syringe from Fornell's fingers and have McGee run it to their lab as quickly as possible, he wanted to take his gun and fill that laughing Brazilian's mouth with every round he still had in his weapon, and he wanted to hold on to DiNozzo and assure him everything would be okay. Instead, Gibbs lowered his mouth close to DiNozzo's ear and spoke.

"What else did Martinez say?" He insisted, pulling the body a bit snugger, fighting the urge to just give the comfort the way he truly wanted. "Come on, Tony, this is important."

DiNozzo shivered and pressed his face against Gibbs' jacket-covered chest. "Why...why are you all wet, Boss?"

Gibbs sighed and gave the trembling man a brief squeeze. "Because it's raining, DiNozzo. Come on...concentrate for me. What else did Martinez say?"

The shivering increased but DiNozzo focused his glazed green gaze on his boss. "Said Petty Officer...Stanfield was just a...diversion...the briefcase..." He suddenly was trying to push up, eyes roaming wildly around. "Boss...you need...to get the...breifcase."

"Okay, okay," Gibbs soothed and easily kept the man in place, readjusting his grip before continuing. "What else?"

"Um...I..." DiNozzo's body suddenly spasmed, arching and tightening, breath catching in his throat. His fingers clutched at Gibbs' sleeve and held firmly until the tremor slowly subsided. "Sh...shit. Not...feeling too good...Boss."

As the EMTs finally made their appearance, both Gibbs and McGee were jostled aside, the former-Marine losing his connection with the downed man after a quick moment of hesitation and a huge serving of regret. He moved reluctantly toward Fornell and swiftly caught the other man's eye, jerking his head in a direction away from Martinez and the rest of the agents on the job. It was time for a little one-on-one.

"How's he doing?" Fornell asked with obvious concern as he joined Gibbs by a vacant wall.

"You really care?" The former Marine asked icily.

"Look, Gibbs..."

"No, *you* look, Fornell," Gibbs stood inches away, nose to nose, using every bit of his stature and personality to transmit his irritation. "I know you're not going to allow me to take that syringe back to NCIS for analysis but, at least, let it go with the emergency personnel to the hospital. It may be the only thing which can help the doctors with DiNozzo. You know if it was one of *your* agents you'd do it."

Fornell's expression darkened. "It's not about *your* agents or *my* agents, Jethro, and you know that. It's all about procedure. Just let me call the Assistant Director, run it by him first, and we'll get this all straightened out. Christ," he sighed in exasperation, "I don't want to see anyone harmed but we have to do this right this time or we may forfeit another ace in the case we have against this lunatic."

Gibbs swallowed his anger and bit back his rampant thoughts as McGee approached cautiously, the young agent's face pale and concerned. Immediately dismissing Fornell, Gibbs gave his agent his full attention.

"I took the liberty of calling Ducky, Boss," McGee offered quickly, eyes locking on and holding the blue gaze steadily. "He's going on to the hospital to get things set up for Tony's arrival. The EMTs have already informed Little Creek of the potential biological hazard and, from what I heard, the CDC is being called in."

Gibbs swore under his breath. It just kept getting worse and worse. He saw McGee fidget and knew there was more.

"What else?"

"Ducky said Director Shepard is upset with the turn of events and wants an immediate investigation into what happened with our communications."

"Like hell she does," Gibbs spat and turned to watch as DiNozzo was lifted and loaded onto a stretcher, his body swathed with a peculiar type of blanket and face all but covered with a mask. His frown of discontent grew. "What's DiNozzo wrapped in?"

McGee followed Gibbs' line of sight and sighed. "It's some new type of containment blanket, I think, used for handling suspicious or potentially dangerous bodies."

"They think he's carrying something contagious?"

"I don't know, Boss," McGee admitted, shifting from foot to foot, "I guess they don't want to take any chances. But, if they were really concerned, I think they would have had all of us who's had any contact with him since the injection wrapped up too."

Swearing again, Gibbs could only stand helplessly by and watch as his senior field agent, the man he'd just started an intimate relationship with just a wekk past, was whisked from the scene, leaving those behind to wonder and worry about this strange turn of events. He glanced once at McGee and turned away. Angrily pulling his cell phone from a pocket, Gibbs took a deep breath and prepared to face the wrath of Director Shepard.

Almost a full hour later, after spending too much time at the warehouse, cleaning up too many loose ends, with too many seemingly inept representatives of the FBI in his way, Gibbs was finally pulling an agency car into the parking lot of Little Creek Naval Hospital and slamming it into the first available spot he could find, disregarding the sign clearly marking the area for physician's use only. Sprinting from the car, he made his way quickly to the emergency room entrance, bypassing the nightly regiment of drunks and drug addicts, of hapless accident victims, and worried parents cradling sick children. He moved straight for the large, automated double-doors, slapped the silver entry disc on the wall, and barreled through, catching sight of Doctor Donald Mallard involved in a deep conversation with two white-coated figures, the older man's worried expression shifting immediately at his arrival.

"Ah, good, Jethro, you're here," Ducky breathed quickly, his relief apparent. He gestured hastily to the physicians flanking him. "This is Doctor Hamilton and Doctor Phillips. They were the first to examine Anthony when he was brought in and..."

"Where is he?" Gibbs demanded, eyes scanning the immediate area, all but ignoring the man and woman his medical examiner was introducing.

"He's being prepared for isolation," Doctor Phillips replied, not seeming to take offense at the snub, her dark eyes serious and her mouth forming a grim line. "Until we can make the arrangements to get him to Bethesda, we can't take the risk of contamination."

"Bethesda?" Gibbs' scowl deepened, heart beginning to pound wildly in his chest.

"They're better equipped to handle the type of containment needed in this instance, Jethro," Ducky spoke gently. "The CDC wants him there and the staff here agrees it would be better, too."

Better for who? Gibbs wanted to ask. Instead, he tilted his head to one side, watching covertly as several members of the medical staff scurried back and forth from one of the curtained-off cubicles at the very end of the hallway, their masks, gloves, and full gowns easily giving away the identity of the patient on the other side of the heavy drape. Before he could take a step in that direction, Gibbs felt Ducky's restraining hand on his forearm, the touch firm and solid.

"I wouldn't recommend it, Jethro, and certainly not without the proper protective gear," Ducky's tone was kind but resolute. "He's already running a low-grade fever. The good doctors here feel the less people he comes into contact with now, the better it will be for everyone."

"I've already had contact with him," Gibbs growled, "and I *am* going to see him."

"Yes, well, be that as it may, you'll still need to wait until he's ensconced in isolation," Ducky shifted and then thought of something else the doctors had voiced their concern about. "Jethro, Timothy mentioned something concerning an attache case belonging to Doctor Martinez. I assume it must contain information only another chemist of that vile man's caliber could comprehend but having it here, and especially the hypodermic used to inject Anthony, would be very helpful. I understand Agent Fornell took possession?"

"Fornell isn't here?" This was not the news he wanted to hear.

Ducky shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Everyone here is in agreement: having those items could be vitally important when the transfer to Bethesda occurs."

Gibbs nodded his understanding but Doctor Hamilton seemed to be getting angry. "I can't comprehend why the FBI would deny us the opportunity to begin some type of treatment for Agent DiNozzo. We've got some top-notch people here and, if he's been injected with something...insidious...that briefcase just might contain the documentation needed to produce a control or a cure. We're virtually working blind right now and only taking Doctor Mallard's word that this Doctor Martinez you've been chasing has produced some fairly nasty things for his government but, I can tell you, without that briefcase and the information it may contain, or even the syringe used, we just don't know what to do for your agent."

Gibbs felt the doctor's frustration acutely. Before he could respond, a flurry of activity from the direction of the cubicle caught everyone's attention, and a gurney was suddenly being wheeled out, the occupant swathed in mask and blankets. His pale face all but hidden, Tony DiNozzo's green eyes instantly found and locked on Gibbs' location and he struggled a moment to pull one of his hands free from the cocoon of covers. A big, male nurse was quickly at his side, speaking earnestly, holding the exposed wrist down and trying to get the irritable man to settle. DiNozzo seemed to rebel at what he was being instructed to do but with the IV ports in both hands and the threat of being physically restrained if the resistance continued hanging over his head, there wasn't much else he could do but comply. As the gurney began down the long hallway, the young agent flopped back in resignation and voiced his opinion...loudly.

"This really sucks, Boss!" He all but shouted, voice much stronger than it had been earlier in the warehouse. "I don't want to be anyone's lab rat!!"

When the unhappy man and his entourage of carefully protected nurses disappeared around a nearby corner that led to a bank of elevators, Gibbs frowned again and turned to face his medical examiner. "What's he talking about, Duck?"

"Until someone can figure out exactly what Agent DiNozzo was injected with," Doctor Phillips interjected hastily and ignored the sour look she received for interrupting, "and determine if it's potentially dangerous to the general population, he must be kept under close observation...like a lab rat." She shrugged at the term. "It's the only way to insure there won't be the spread of some contagion."

"Boss!"

Gibbs turned his unhappy face away from the group of doctors and watched as McGee and David hustled his way. His youngest agent looked slightly frazzled, eyes large with worry and stress, but Officer David appeared to be fairly vibrating with restrained anger.

"How's Tony?" McGee asked somewhat breathlessly.

Gibbs had other things on his mind and blatantly ignored the inquiry. "Where the hell is Fornell? Or, better still, where the hell is that syringe?"

McGee looked like he'd been caught with his pants down around his ankles and he nervously shifted from foot to foot. "I...don't exactly know, Boss."

"Well," this was not what Gibbs wanted to hear either, "what *exactly* do you know, McGee?"

McGee nodded and swallowed. "I know Fornell bagged the syringe, along with Doctor Martinez's attache, and intended to bring them here as soon as it was cleared by his supervisor."

"There's no way Fornell, or anyone else at the FBI, is going to allow someone in the general population access to Martinez's data, Gibbs," David cut in, shaking her head at the ridiculous assumption, her dark eyes flashing with irritation. "The life of one, insignificant, NCIS agent isn't enough to sway them to bring such potentially sensitive information to a place like Little Creek, even though it is a military hospital. They won't take that risk."

The coldness of her statement did nothing to concealed her bitterness and both Gibbs and McGee could see the fury boiling just under her carefully erected facade. They both knew she was probably right but Gibbs was depending on Fornell's turbulent friendship to find some way to get the information or the syringe here...before it was too late. He turned back to face Ducky and saw only compassion in the blue eyes.

"I need to talk to DiNozzo again, as soon as possible."

The older man sighed and nodded, facing the other two doctors and quickly trying to explain the situation while Gibbs turned back to address his agents. He could see their fatigue but could also see the concern for their teammate and knew they would do anything and everything in their power to help, even if it meant turning away from the situation here and going back out to track down the evidence.

"Find Fornell," Gibbs ordered and nailed them with his patented 'or else' glare, "and tell that sonofabitch to get that damned hypodermic here pronto or, so help me, if I have to leave and come take it from him myself, I'll rip his weaseling little head off and shove it up his ass! You got that?"

"Yes, Boss," came McGee's quick reply while David nodded her understanding and, together, they whirled and moved to do as bid, their shoes echoing hollowly on the shiny, linoleum floor.

Gibbs turned away and refocused on Ducky. "Take me to DiNozzo."

Approximately ten minutes later and after receiving explicit instructions on maintaining the isolation field, Gibbs was dressed in all the necessary gear and getting his first real, good look at his senior field agent through the clear glass of the thick window of the secluded room. DiNozzo didn't appear to be sick or suffering in any way but Gibbs could tell something just wasn't quite right with the younger man. He stepped into the sealed room, heard the faint 'whoosh' of processed air, and moved toward the bed, watching as the man there opened his tired eyes and focused.

"I'd know those baby-blues anywhere," DiNozzo smirked and shifted on the mattress, trying to keep the ports in the back of his hands from accidentally snagging on any of the covers. He was secretly glad he hadn't been attached to anything confining yet but knew it was only a matter of time before that happened. Whatever was coursing through his bloodstream right now couldn't be good. Determinedly pushing those bleak thoughts away, he looked toward his supervisor and raised an eyebrow. "Gee, this seems just like old times, doesn't it?"

Gibbs grunted but bit back the reply he wanted to voice. He wished he could deny the similarities between this occasion and DiNozzo's last experience in isolation but knew he couldn't lie to the young man. Not now, not ever, not to him. Instead, he looked over the edge of his mask and took a safer, more familiar route.

"What the hell happened?"

DiNozzo sighed but understood the need for following procedure. Shifting once again, he looked away to collect his thoughts before speaking.

"Hell if I know, Boss. Everything seemed to be going just like we'd expected: we exchanged some last-minute posturing, poked fun at each other's country...you know, all the stuff that makes undercover work so much fun." He saw Gibbs' eyes grow dark. "Right. Martinez was ready to hand over the information concerning the shipments arriving at Newport News and then...wham! All hell breaks loose. I remember hearing this strange noise from somewhere, like a burst of static or a screech," he seemed to consider the thought for a moment, "you know, now that I think about it, it kind of sounded like a mic blasting through an ear wick." He shook the thought away but didn't see Gibbs' frown. "Anyway, Martinez's goons drew their guns, I heard someone yell 'FBI', and then I was pulling our mad scientist down and covering his scrawny ass so it wouldn't get blown off in the crossfire. Bullets were whizzing everywhere. The cavalry arrived, saved the day, and the little bastard repays my kindness by sticking his needle in my leg. End of story."

Gibbs watched as his usually unflappable agent digested his own words and lapsed into silence, the green eyes suddenly growing anxious before flicking away, moving to study a particularly interesting bit of lint on the blanket covering his chest. The former Marine closed the small distance separating them and bent close, bringing his face within inches of DiNozzo's.

"You're going to be fine, Tony," he whispered with a spark of heat. "I'm not going to let you get away from me this easily. Do you hear?"

The green eyes snapped up and searched what he could see of the masked man's face, fighting the urge to reach out and pull the solid body in for a nice, reassuring embrace. But their relationship was still too new, still too uncertain, so DiNozzo could only take a slow, calming breath and try to appease his traitorous thoughts by focusing on Jethro Gibbs' confidence.

"I hear you, Boss," he agreed, wishing he was bold enough to move his fingers from the blanket to Gibbs' hand. "I just...I just don't know where all this is going to end."

Gibbs straightened and placed a gloved hand on one of DiNozzo's bare wrists, just above where the identification band from the emergency room encircled, knowing the contact was needed, craved. He wanted to rip the glove off and touch flesh to flesh but knew, realistically, he couldn't help either one of them if he, too, contracted whatever the young agent was potentially carrying.

"Let me tell you the plan, as I understand it," he suddenly realized he could aleviate much of the apprehension he saw by simply taking the time to explain the proposed arrangements. He watched DiNozzo nod and settle. "The talk is the CDC has been called in for advice," the swift grimace of distaste appeared but was gone in a heartbeat, "and you're going to be transferred to Bethesda, as soon as transportation can be arranged."

"Well, shit..."

Gibbs eyed his agent and saw the forlorn look. "They're familiar with you there and, if I recall correctly, you're familar with several of them." He saw the green eyes roll in exasperation and bit back a smile. Oh,yeah...DiNozzo was *very* familiar with several of the staff. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Like an ass," DiNozzo quipped but instantly sobered, knowing the importance of answering honestly at this point in the game. "A little fuzzy around the edges, maybe a little achy, too, but lots better than I was earlier. Oh, yeah...no pain in the chest, no shortness of breath, and no coughing up blood. All in all, I'd say I'm doing just swell."

Gibbs nodded, catching the reference to his bout with the plague and could only hope they weren't about to face anything like that again. Never again.

"McGee and Ziva are tracking down Fornell right now...the FBI ended up with all the evidence."

"Of course," DiNozzo mumbled distractedly, hand pulling from Gibbs' grip and reaching to toy absently with the disposable gown the older man was wearing. "I, eh...I'm sorry, Boss."

"This wasn't your fault," he wanted to snap at the younger man but the words, somehow, came out more sedately than intended, the need to assure his agent, his new, younger lover, that things would be all right for them, no matter what. Realistically, he couldn't. No one, except Doctor Emilio Martinez, knew what had been contained in that damned syringe and that bastard would probably hold out for some kind of sweet deal with the American government before giving up any of his secrets. Gibbs grabbed the hand fiddling nervously with the protective gown and squeezed hard. "You listen to me, DiNozzo, you're going to cooperate with the doctors, here and at Bethesda, and do everything they tell you to do. We'll get to Martinez, we'll find out what he injected you with, and we'll get the antidote or cure or whatever you need to beat this thing. I just need for you to hang in there, have a little faith, and don't give up. Just...just don't give up!"

DiNozzo's expression slowly changed from quiet shock to growing surprise and, finally, to soft happiness. The shy smile erupting on his face made him appear years younger than his actual age.

"You really want me to stick around, don't you?" He asked almost bashfully.

Gibbs pushed a gloved hand over the young man's head, wishing he could feel the texture of the soft strands between his fingers. "Let's just say, I'm planning..."

The remainder of Gibbs' thought was silenced with the arrival of two like-garbed nurses, both moving toward the bed, effectively bringing the private conversation to an end. Gibbs watched one approach with a bag of some clear fluid and saw her reach to hook it to the nearby IV stand.

"Well, crap," DiNozzo griped, knowing he was now going to be, pretty much, tied to the equipment. The oxygen monitor and the blood pressure cuff could both be easily removed but an IV...well...DiNozzo squirmed uncomfortably at the thought.

"Party's over, sweetheart," one of the nurses spoke kindly, her eyes filled with understanding as she reached for one of the patient's hands. "Time to get some broad-spectrum antibiotics into you to see if we can keep that temperature from rising any higher."

"Antibiotics, huh?" DiNozzo grinned and cast a sweet look her way, catching her eyes and obviously trying to see how far his charm would take him with this woman. He lowered his voice seductively. "Don't suppose I could finagle a nice, warm sponge bath afterwards, could I?"

"Oh, honey," the woman's amused eyes crinkled above the mask as the other nurse snickered where she worked, checking readings and recording information, "you'd better be careful what you ask for around here."

"Yeah?" DiNozzo watched avidly as she competently inserted the needle into the port, still aware of Gibbs standing somewhere near the foot of the bed. He let his eyes travel from the back on his hand and rise to meet the frosty, blue gaze, offering a smile and a wink but continuing his converstaion with the woman. He kind of liked the idea of Gibbs being a bit jealous. "So, you going to do the honors?"

The nurse finished her task, checked the drip line, and looked pointedly at the young man, shaking her head with regret. "Not today, honey, but I *am* going to have to insert a catheter."

DiNozzo's right hand jerked to cup the blanket-covered area over his crotch in mock-protection, all humor and playfulness instantly fleeing at the announcement. "Why? I'm ambulatory...there's no reason why I can't get up to use the..."

"You see a restroom anywhere in here, darling?" The nurse cut off the young agent's thought and patted his arm in a gesture meant to soothe. Turning, she gathered the items necessary to do the deed and caught Gibbs' grim look. "Besides, you're no longer allowed to get out of bed."

"But..." DiNozzo was actually scanning the room to see if he was being told the truth about the absence of any facilities, his expression morphing swiftly into open anxiety. He didn't see the look exchanged between the nurse and his boss. "But...I can use a bedpan or a hand-held urinal or..."

"Agent DiNozzo, the doctors want to be prepared in case your body...well, in case there are complications," she explained as calmly as she could. She saw the two men exchange significant glances and knew they had experience with situations like this. At the younger man's crestfallen look, she sighed and patted him again, giving the shoulder a gentle squeeze as well. "If it's any consolation, I'm very good at doing the procedure and can promise I'll make you as comfortable as possible."

DiNozzo's bleak expression would have been laughable, if the situation hadn't been so serious. Gibbs stepped close again, itching to put his own hand back on the agent.

"I guess I'll just step out and let you have a little privacy..."

"What for? It's not like you haven't seen everything I've got already," DiNozzo pouted before he could think what the declaration would sound like to the two strangers in the room and almost missed the slight hesitation in their assigned tasks. Almost. The green eyes rose in silent apology but Gibbs kept his usual stoic expression firmly in place.

"Actually," the kind nurse was speaking again, ignoring the discomfort, "it would probably be best if you did leave, sir. The doctors indicated the CDC wants us to run some preliminary tests before Agent DiNozzo leaves for Bethesda."

"The CDC not coming here?" This was news to Gibbs.

"No, sir. They'll be waiting in Maryland. Doctor Phillips can fill you in with all the specifics, I believe. The orders came in a short while ago, just before we got the orders for the antibiodics and the catheter. I think there was a representative from your office speaking with her...a Doctor Mallard...so he should be able to answer all your questions."

Gibbs nodded and stepped back to speak to his agent again before departing. He could clearly read the apprehension in the miserable expression and knew it wasn't the time or the place to remind DiNozzo how his flirting ways always seemed to backfire and get him into a bigger mess.

"I'll see you again after I've had the chance to speak to Ducky and after these...nice people," he couldn't contain the small grin from escaping, "finish their tasks."

"Ha, ha...very funny," DiNozzo whispered and laid his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes in resignation. "It's not *your* dick that's going to be impaled."

Gibbs felt a twinge of sympathy, even though he knew the procedure wasn't anything as dramatic as the young man was making it out to be, and returned his hand to the strong wrist. "Remember what I said to you, DiNozzo. You do everything you're told to do. Understand?"

The green eyes reopened and his acceptance of the situation could be seen clearly. "Got it, Boss."

The quiet affirmation did nothing to settle the growing dread within Gibbs' belly but he nodded once more and turned away, never looking back or hesitating, and kept walking until he'd vacated the isolation area, angrily stripping off the protective gear and dumping it in the appropriate bin, taking only a moment to calm himself...now that he was alone. He worked to put on his game face, to get his mind-set focused, and ruthlessly pushed all thoughts of his personal feelings to one corner. He had a job to do and, as always, the job came first.

Almost ninety minutes later, while being loaded onto the Naval helicopter awaiting to take him to Bethesda, DiNozzo suddenly had a seizure, the unexpectedness and severity of the fit taking eveyone by surprise. The flight doctor and attending nurse hustled with the hospital staff on the landing pad, trying to keep the patient from harming himself and dosing him quickly with an anti-convulsant, waiting patiently and monitoring until he finally calmed.

Stepping back and turning to where Jethro Gibbs and Donald Mallard stood helplessly to one side, Doctor Phillips shook her head and sighed. She folded her arms, almost hugging herself, the gravity of her expression not lost on either of them.

"We need that syringe, Agent Gibbs," she stressed again. "If Agent DiNozzo is going to survive this, we need to have that syringe."

The copter's engine ignited and it's main propeller started to slowly rotate, the revolutions coming quicker and faster with each passing moment. The two men watched as DiNozzo's still form was loaded and secured into the containment berth, the displaced air from the rotor pushing against their bodies and whipping their jackets into a frenzy. At a signal from the pilot, they moved carefully toward the still-open hatchway and stopped to peer inside, both sets of blue eyes falling to rest on the young man inside.

Ducky's hand was suddenly on Gibbs' arm, grip tight and unforgiving. "Come as soon as you can."

"Not without that syringe," Gibbs' gaze never left DiNozzo's still face, now covered with an oxygen mask and almost as pale as the blanket on his body. "Not until I find that damned syringe."

Ducky nodded and released his hold, reaching for the handhold and pulling up into the body of the helicopter, strapping himself in securely. When he met Gibbs' eyes again, he expression was as grim as the NCIS agent had ever seen.

"Don't take too long, Jethro," Ducky warned before the doors closed. "Whatever you do, don't take too long."

And, as the speed of the main rotor built, Gibbs stepped back into the relative safety against a far wall with Doctor Phillips and waited until the helicopter finally rose and moved out into the night sky, taking away his agent, his friend, and his heart.