Work Text:
This ficlet is not connected to any season of NCIS, but the future, when Gibbs really is retired and Tony has his own team...
slash, Gibbs/DiNozzo, domestic mush
so your probie shot you in the foot
"Tony!" Gibbs yelled, walking through the house. He didn't bother looking into the study and he stalked past the living room without sparing the couch a glance, already knowing where he would find his lover. He slowed down when he came to the door that led from the kitchen to the garage. He slid out of his slippers and opened the door. Muffled snores met his ears, making him roll his eyes.
Careful not to make too much noise on the concrete floor, he stepped around the unfinished '65 Mustang and crouched down when he found the spot where Tony's legs were sticking out from under the chassis. Kneeling, he pulled on the rolling board and wheeled his lover out from under the car. Tony's arm was pulled along, the button of his sleeve scraping along the concrete noisily. Tony's eyes blinked open when Gibbs patted his leg.
"Were you going to sleep here?"
"Ahm... no. I didn't... huh?" Tony mumbled, not quite awake.
"Get your ass into bed."
"But I'm comfy here."
Gibbs sighed. "No, you're not. You're not even comfortable on sheets with less than 600 thread count."
"This is different. This is my car."
"This is 'under' your car," Gibbs emphasized and pulled on Tony's arms. "Get up."
Tony mumbled something and hesitated.
"Let me rephrase," Gibbs threatened. "You either get up and into bed, or I'll handcuff you to it tomorrow and there will be no playing with the car at all."
"What a threat," Tony replied, sarcasm heavy on his tongue.
"It is, because I'll be working tomorrow. You're supposed to be on bedrest."
"But this is just like bedrest. I'm just lying here!" Tony protested, but made to get up.
"Need a crutch?" Gibbs asked, a smirk on his lips.
"No! And don't... ah," Tony hissed when he touched the foot down. "Yes, please."
Gibbs offered his shoulder and Tony threw his arm around it.
"I told Fornell about it," Gibbs said then, still smiling.
"You didn't," Tony replied, and narrowed his eyes, looking into his lover's. "You ass. The truth?"
"Yes," Gibbs replied and helped Tony hop up the steps into the kitchen. He slid back into his slippers and half carried his lover back to the bedroom. "He wanted to know why I was suddenly at your desk, doing agently things. By tomorrow, the whole FBI will know."
"That's unfair. Just because that's never happened to you... that's no reason to make fun of me."
"McGee says hi, by the way. He hopes you're getting lots of fluids and is strongly encouraging you to take as long as you need."
"Fluids?"
Gibbs nodded. "He knows that hopping to the bathroom every thirty minutes to piss will make you hurt like hell. And he says you deserve it."
"I did nothing to deserve this," Tony denied.
"The director says you yell at Pattison a lot."
Tony gasped. "Because he deserves it!"
"And Abby thinks Pattison's subconscious wanted to shoot you, that's why it happened."
"The probie shot me on purpose?" Tony narrowed his eyes. "If he did, he's dead."
"I already talked to him," Gibbs said, grinning. "He didn't shoot your foot on purpose. If he had, he would have told me."
"Did he piss his pants?"
"Almost," Gibbs calmed his lover down and helped him the last few feet to the bed. "Now lie down, put your foot up and sleep. You're staying here tomorrow. Ducky said you shouldn't be walking around on it yet."
"Admit it, you just want to enjoy some time back at the office." Tony hummed. "I could go back on desk duty. It's not unheard of team leaders to sta-"
"Shut up," Gibbs interrupted him. "You stay here. I take over your team. It'll be a great learning experience for Pattison."
Tony's eyes glinted in the darkness. "He'll be happy to have me back after a week?"
"Oooh, yes," Gibbs confirmed. "He'll call and ask for you."
"You'd bet on that?"
"No need," Gibbs denied. "Abby has the pool. I bet he'll last five days."
"Five days?" Tony asked. "Is that with slapping or without?"
He winced when Gibbs slapped the back of his head. "Smartass. McGee gives him two, by the way."
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