Someone Should Say Something
an NCIS story
by tarotgal
"Ah-ahshoo!"
Curious, Tony hung up the phone and looked around for the source of the sneeze. It was a guy, he could tell that much. And it was early yet so there weren't too many people in. In fact, the only other man in the room at the moment seemed to be Gibbs. But that was absurd. Gibbs didn't sneeze. Allergens and germs avoided Gibbs like… well, Tony wasn't fond of plague analogies, but there it was. It was the impossibility of all impossibilities, because: Gibbs. Simply. Did. Not. Sneeze.
"ahHAHShoo!"
If Tony hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it. The bossman's face had completely changed—mouth hanging open and eyes dull, unfocused. He'd pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger, for all the good it had done him. His eyes had closed. His head had bobbed up and down as he breathed heavily. Then he had sneezed, pitching forward in his seat at his desk. Gibbs. *Gibbs* had sneezed!
Before Tony could even fathom the ramifications, Ziva came breezing by, mumbling angrily about beltway rush hour drivers. She sat down at her desk and noticed Tony noticing her. "Morning," she said, still sounding a little annoyed.
That made him grin. There was nothing he liked more than playing with someone already in a bad mood. Usually the result made at least one, if not both, of them laugh. "Good morning," he said, loudly and perkily. "Have fun interviewing the boyfriend?"
Ziva narrowed her eyes at him. "Probably just about as much fun as you had playing phone races."
"Phone tag," Tony corrected. "It's called phone tag. And that wasn't the highlight of my morning, if you must know." Seeing Gibbs sneezing was pretty amazing. Maybe it deserved to be up there in the highlight reel, but that wasn't what he was thinking about just now. "I talked to the owner of the restaurant first thing this morning." A grin spread across his face. "We had a great conversation about his valet service and then he gave me breakfast." He raised both arms into the air in a gesture of triumph.
Ziva looked incredulous. "You ate breakfast at the crime scene?"
Tony shrugged. "I was hungry. And it was free."
She sighed and shook her head. "Sometimes, Tony…" But she didn't finish her sentiment because she was interrupted by the sound of a sneeze.
"ehTttttshoo!"
Ziva looked from Tony to Gibbs and then back to Tony. She looked even more stunned than she had a moment before. "Was that Gibbs?"
Tony nodded.
"He sneezed?"
Tony nodded.
"Is he ill?"
"Gibbs doesn't get ill," Tony said. They were whispering, of course. Even if Gibbs was sneezing, that only meant there was maybe a problem with his nose. His hearing was probably as flawless as ever. Maybe even better to compensate for the loss of one sense.
The elevator dinged and McGee walked in just then. He scanned the room briefly. Then he called out, "I've got some news on the car," he announced, holding up a file folder.
Gibbs rubbed at his nose, sniffed, and looked up. "Yeah, McGee?" His voice was tired, scratchy, gruff. Or, well, noticeably gruffer than normal.
"A 2007 metallic blue Prius with a dented back bumper. But even better than that, someone got a partial plate. I checked it against the list of restaurant patrons and staff, but didn't get a match. I put a BOLO out on it and am running it through the system to find the owner."
"Good work," Gibbs said, nodding. He tilted his head toward Ziva and Tony. "You did better than those two at least."
"Hey!" Tony called out, indignantly. "I found you that lead."
"The one that didn't pan out?" Gibbs asked.
Tony gestured to his phone. "I'll, ah, just get back to these phone calls."
Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, you do that, DiNozzo."
McGee walked over to his desk and put his suit jacket over the back of his chair. He hadn't been settled behind his computer for more than two minutes before Gibbs sneezed again and McGee practically jumped in his seat in surprise at the sound.
"yeh-ahTShoo!"
McGee looked to Tony and Ziva for information, but his other two team members knew as much as he did. Ziva shrugged and looked concerned. Tony whispered, "Probably some trick of his to see if we're paying attention. Because we all know Gibbs doesn't get sick."
"Do you think so?" McGee said, sounding doubtful. "Because I gotta say, he looks like he's sick to me."
Getting up and walking over, Tony leaned against McGee's desk, sort of sitting on the edge. Tony `pshaw'ed and waved off the observation. "What do you know, Probie?" He quickly held up his hand. "Wait, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know the ins and outs of World of Elfcraft."
"Warcraft," McGee corrected. "And I just meant—"
"AhIHshoo!"
They all looked over at Gibbs, who was rubbing his nose. His eyes were closed and it took him some time before he stopped rubbing, opened his eyes, and resumed his work at his desk. Then they all looked at each other, feeling uncomfortable and wondering which one of them would be the one to talk to Gibbs about what was already painfully obvious.
"If he goes, you will be senior investigator," Ziva told Tony. "I think you should be the one to say something."
Tony could just imagine what Gibbs would say to him. And Tony didn't like to think how that would play out. Neither did the back of his head.
Luckily, Abby appeared just then from the stairs. She was excited and out of breath. "Elevator was tied up. Ran the whole way." She spoke fast and made straight for Gibbs. "I couldn't wait to tell you, but you weren't there."
He looked up at her blankly.
"When I get results, you magically appear behind me," she explained. "But my machines began beeping and you didn't turn up. I thought maybe that meant I'd done the tests wrong so I double-checked and when it came out the same way, you still weren't there. So I came to you."
He continued to stare at her. At first, it seemed he was waiting for her to explain. But then Tony noticed the little twitch of his nostrils and his eyebrows. He was fighting a sneeze. And, tough as Gibbs was, he wasn't winning the fight. He turned his head to the side and pinched his nose with his thumb and forefinger. His nose twitched against the touch and he snapped forward. "ahchooo!" He sniffed powerfully several times. Then turned back to Abby, sounding impatient. "What do you have?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do *you* have, Gibbs?"
"Abby! The results?"
"Right…" Her excitement returned almost immediately. "I analyzed the blood spatter pattern and it agrees entirely with the ballistics. Corners are tricky but given the arrangement of the droplets and the trajectory, there's a high probability that the person who fired the gun was less than four feet, eight inches tall."
"Four feet, eight inches," Gibbs repeated, nodding.
"That eliminates a lot of people," Abby said. "Almost everyone on the list you gave me, in fact. Everyone except…"
Tony knew the name Gibbs was about to say. He could have said it along him as he finished her thought. "Michael Nixon." Gibbs nodded. "Good work, Abs."
"Good enough to earn a Caf Pow?"
Gibbs looked guilty for a moment. "I'll have to owe you one."
She pouted. "I'm worried about you."
He stood up, clearing his throat along the way, and patted her shoulder appreciatively and reassuringly. "Don't be." He walked past her and headed to the rest of the team. Tony pretended he hadn't been watching the whole thing. Obviously he'd failed, because Gibbs pointed straight at him. "DiNozzo!"
"Yeah, Boss?" He stood, expecting an order.
Instead, he got a private look from Gibbs he'd never seen before. With a tilt of the head and a "Need to show you something. C'mere a second."He led the way across the room and down the hall, and Tony followed him. When they'd gotten far enough away, Gibbs fell back against a wall and coughed liberally into his fist. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. It took him three deep breaths before he could draw one without a cough after it.
"Boss," Tony said, hesitantly. "You don't sound so good."
Gibbs opened his eyes. "Knew you were quick." He sniffed. "I'm sick, DiNozzo."
Tony gave his head a shake. "But… you don't get sick. Never had a cold. Never had the flu. Never get sick."
"I didn't until today. And then I… oh…" He quickly cupped his hand over his nose and mouth. "Hah-Choo! KShoo!"
"Double gesundheit, Boss."
"Thanks," Gibbs mumbled.
Tony wasn't so sure he should say it… but he felt rather daring, and they were alone. The worst that could happen was a slap to the back of the head and maybe a shout, if Gibbs' voice was even up to shouting still. So he went for it and suggested, "Maybe you should go home."
Gibbs nodded. "That's why you're here. It's your case now. I need you to take lead so I can take a day off ah-and… ahh-Hitshoo!" Gibbs scrubbed his knuckles at his nose.
Tony listened to him sniff a few times. "I'll take over. Just answer one thing for me."
"What?" Gibbs croaked. Without everyone else around, he was sounding worse by the second.
"Did you mean it before? That wasn't just some act? Is this really your first time being sick?"
Looking miserable, Gibbs nodded. "This bug's turned my head into cotton. Remind me not to give any of you a hard time the next time you're sick."
Tony stared, wide-eyed. Gibbs being nice? Nice ahead of time, even? That was unnatural. There was definitely something wrong. "That's it. You've got to be running a fever. You need to go lie down right now."
Gibbs smirked but nodded. "On my way, Boss."
Written as a penalty for missing another weekly hatching. I re-watched three episodes while writing the second half of this fic. You might not be at all surprised that I wrote the very end of this while the episode, Bounce, was playing. LOL
Disclaimer: CBS Show, not mine. Not my world. Not my characters. Just my fun. I don't earn a cent from this.