"So," said Gibbs, "my Dad told me not to come home until I'd been to apologise to all the neighbours who'd had their flowerbeds dug up by Chesty. Took me from sunrise to sundown and that dog trailed along with me looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Then I spent all my spare evenings and weekends for the next month doing yard work for them all. Jeez, the trouble that mutt got me into. Still, he always had my six. Never on my own while Chesty was around."

Gibbs sighed and shifted, trying to get more comfortable and trying again, unsuccessfully, to see through the blindfold tied tightly over his eyes. He listened intently and thought he could still hear the slightly rapid breathing of a companion. Gibbs hoped it was DiNozzo who was locked in the room with him but worried that Tony had not spoken since Gibbs had woken up an hour or so ago. Their capture had been violent and he had seen DiNozzo going down fighting.

Gibbs tugged again at the handcuffs which held his hands behind his back but they did not yield and he could get no purchase on the short chain which linked the handcuffs to something sturdy on the wall. His legs were beginning to ache from being stretched out in front of him and tied to something else which made it impossible for him to lean forward and rub the blindfold against his knees to move it. He had tried to rub the material against his shoulder to dislodge it but that hadn't worked either and he had to continue sitting in the dark. He was unused to being so helpless and being unable to see added to the feeling of vulnerability.

"Never did quite work out what sort of dog Chesty was," continued Gibbs into the darkness. He felt it was the only way he could have Tony's six – if it was Tony's breathing he could hear. Somehow, he thought, that it would give Tony some comfort to hear his Boss's voice; with a flash of grim humour, Gibbs hoped that Tony wouldn't take advantage of learning Gibbs' childhood secrets but, at the moment, it was a price worth paying. Besides, he would probably be able to squash any DiNozzo gossiping easily enough. Taking a moment to worry that Tony was unconscious and unable to hear his rambling, Gibbs cleared his throat and began again,

"Yeah, Chesty was an odd mixture. Dad thought he had a bit of Setter in him. That would explain why he was so stubborn, once he got an idea in his head it was a lost cause. Mr Brabham thought he had Retriever with a dash of Dalmatian. Did I mention he had these odd colour spots? Made him look as if he was wearing some sort of camouflage. I thought he had German Shepherd in him, and maybe some Bloodhound: he could sniff things out from miles away. Had a real thing for Dad's chicken dinners, used to lie in front of the oven when a bird was in it and wouldn't move away. Dad used to swear at him but he wouldn't shift for anything. One day, Dad forgot he was there; took the chicken out of the oven and tripped over old Chest. Bird went crashing to the floor but Chesty didn't grab it. No, he just looked at it as if he couldn't believe his eyes, or his luck! Dad picked it up real quick and Chesty went and licked the floor clean."

Gibbs sighed as he ground to a halt once more, "Wish you'd say something, DiNozzo," he said, "this is kinda hard for a functional mute like me. All this yabba yabba is more your style. Hope you're not sulking there. I guess you were right that we should have waited for backup but McGee will find us, you'll see."

Gibbs wasn't sure if their captors were listening so didn't want to talk about the tracking devices Abby had put in their watches. He tried again to rub his head against his shoulder but the blindfold refused to budge.

Tony was trussed up much as Gibbs was but the difference was that he was gagged rather than blindfolded so he could see that they were in some sort of cellar which had a lot of sturdy pipework which their captors had used inventively to immobilise them. Tony had regained consciousness as the thugs were tying them up.

Flashback

"Hey," Tony said, "I'm not really into bondage, you know. I appreciate you going to all this trouble but if you've been talking to Loretta, don't believe what she said. Those fuzzy handcuffs were her idea, not mine!" He tried a winning smile but wasn't too disappointed when it didn't soften the abductors.

"You talk too much," said Thug 1, as he stretched Tony's legs out so he could tie them to a lump of metalwork.

"And this one sees too much," his companion said, as he manoeuvred the unconscious Gibbs into position.

"Hah!" said Thug 1, "that gives me an idea. Bit of poetic justice!" And he reached into his pocket and brought out two pieces of sturdy material and used one to gag Tony and the other to blindfold Gibbs. "That should make things interesting for you," he said as he slapped Tony jovially on the face.

Tony had struggled against his bonds but the captors had been thorough and professional and he made no headway. He had been relieved when Gibbs had woken up but the horror of their situation had been brought home to him when he realised that Gibbs had no idea what was going on and that Tony had no way to communicate with him. He wondered what Gibbs would do and was taken by surprise when, after Gibbs had realised Tony wasn't going to talk to him, he began to chatter. Tony tried to think of other words to describe Gibbs' talking but was forced to admit that, unlikely as it seemed, Gibbs was chattering. Tony wondered if the words 'Gibbs' and 'chatter' had ever been used in the same sentence and what odds he would have got on such a phenomenon occurring. It was kind of soothing, he thought, listening to the Boss and he allowed himself to be distracted and let his breathing even out.

Gibbs seemed to think it was time to offer his companion some reassurance and to risk their captors being close by, "Tim will be expecting us to get in touch," he said, "he knew we were coming to the docks so he'll know to be homing in on this area," he lowered his voice, "those chip thingies in the watches will lead them here," he raised his voice again, "did I tell you why the dog was called Chesty? Lewis Burwell Puller, nicknamed "Chesty", one of the most famous US Marines ever. Five Navy Crosses and the Distinguished Service Cross. Dad wasn't too keen on me naming my dog after a Marine but I was mad keen on being a Marine even then. Boy needs a dog, specially growing up somewhere like Stillwater. Him and me would go off all day, into the woods – when I wasn't doing yard work for the neighbours after one of his mad days!"

Gibbs sighed and tried to shift to a more comfortable position. "Didn't have many friends back then," he continued reminiscently, "got on better with Chesty than most of the boys back home. I was on the baseball team though. I was a pretty good pitcher and I could run between those bases faster than most. Preferred pitching, more tactical, I liked playing those mind games!" He barked a laugh, "bet that doesn't surprise you, eh?"

Tony found himself nodding and smiling behind his gag. Yes, he really could imagine a dour faced young Gibbs glaring down at his competitors. He wasn't surprised, either, to learn that Gibbs had been fast on his feet; he had shown spectacular turns of speed on many NCIS chases. The brief lifting of Tony's spirits ended as he caught sight once more of the two broken watches lying on the ground between him and Gibbs.

Flashback

"That's real cute," said Thug 2 as he searched Tony and Gibbs, "look, they got matching watches!"

"Hmmm," said Thug 1, "they don't look as if they share the same taste in anything," and he looked at Gibbs' utilitarian clothes and haircut and Tony's rather more upmarket attire and expensive hairstyle.

"What can I say?" said Tony, "we like to bond over some things. Don't tell anyone, but Gibbs and I are going to launch our own range. We're going to call it 'JetTon Accessories for the Discerning Law Enforcement Officer'. Oh, don't you like the name? Well, we're still at the early stages, open to ideas. What do you suggest?"

"That you shut up," said Thug 2 rather predictably.

"I think we'd better test out the durability of your new product range," said Thug 1 nastily and he dropped the watches to the ground and stepped on them, "Oops, I think you need to find a new supplier. These aren't much 'cop' are they?" and he laughed at his own joke.

Tony continued to wriggle and shift around in the hope of dislodging something and getting free. He had almost given up hope when he felt something move a little and realised that he could raise his legs a bit. He tried to think how he could make use of this tiny piece of freedom.

"First hunting trip," said Gibbs, "that went well. Not. Dad told me not to go at night but I didn't listen. Took Chesty and my new rifle, decided I was going to bring something home for the pot. Don't ask me what I thought I was going to shoot when I couldn't see anything! Anyway, we got … well, not lost. Just in a place I didn't recognise. If it had been a couple years later Chesty would have known the way home but I'd just got him, he didn't know the smells around Stillwater."

Gibbs realised that somehow, sitting in the dark, made it easier for him to talk about his emotions and that he was remembering things long hidden. He swallowed, and continued, "Dad found me, though. Dad always found me. Those days, Dad knew me better than I knew myself. Guess that's a special thing for a boy to have. And he'd taught me, 'if you get lost, Leroy, find something to bang on and keep up a rhythm. Someone'll hear you and come'. So I did, and it was him who came. Didn't stop him giving me a telling off though. I remember …"

Gibbs stopped talking as he thought of something, "DiNozzo. Can you move enough to bang something? Knock if you can. Pity you never learned Morse code," said Gibbs, "would have made this easier."

Tony couldn't move much but he still thought he probably froze at Gibbs' comment. He wondered what to do.

Flashback

Thug 1 and Thug 2 looked down at Gibbs and Tony with some satisfaction at their handiwork. Gibbs was out cold and trussed up securely with the blindfold over his eyes. Tony was similarly immobilised, his eyes were glaring furiously at the kidnappers as, now unable to speak, he was communicating his anger and disgust at the situation.

"Why don't we just shoot them?" asked Thug 2, "we could use their own guns if you want some more of that poetic justice of yours."

"Hmmm, we could do that," said Thug 1 meditatively as he stroked the barrel of Gibbs' gun against his thigh, "but I've got something else in mind. Much more fun. And I hate waste. I'll be right back."

Thug 1 had come back all too soon and brought back with him one of the objects which had brought him to the attention of NCIS – a bomb.

"Two and a half hours, I think," he said, "that'll be a nice length of time for this one to watch his life ticking away." He set the timer for 150 minutes and placed the device well out of Tony's reach but within sight. "It's not a very big bomb," said Thug 1 apologetically, "but it should blow you both to smithereens. Such an expressive word, 'smithereens'. It's one of my favourites. Along with 'traumatic amputation', 'explosion,' 'fire' … well, you get the idea. I almost wish I could be here to see it but my diary is so full I just can't spare the time. Bye!"

Tony had been impressed by McGee's knowledge of Morse code and, unbeknown to the rest of the team, had learned it. He was saving the knowledge to surprise them one day and now, hearing Gibbs' grouse that he didn't know Morse code, he thought the moment had come. Tony lifted his leg in readiness to beat the first dash and then stopped. What was the point of letting Gibbs know that a bomb was going to blow them to 'smithereens' in about an hour's time? Tony knew that there was no way they could extricate themselves and that the tracking devices were broken so McGee wasn't on his way.

Tony lowered his leg quietly. Better to let Gibbs sit there in ignorance while Tony watched the minutes tick away. He sighed.

Gibbs listened hard in the hope of hearing Tony knock but no sound reached him. He thought, however, that he heard a sigh and his heart lurched at the thought of his agent being in despair so he decided to continue with his childhood reminiscences. He hadn't heard any sighs while he had been talking before so thought that perhaps the stories had comforted Tony in some way.

"Did I tell you that I used to have a gerbil? Before Chesty arrived. Aunt Lyddie visited from California and bought it for me. I called it Jeremiah … seemed a manly sort of name until it turned out Jeremiah was a she. Jackson thought that was the funniest thing in years and insisted on renaming it Jessie. Kids in school thought it was great that I had a pet called Jessie, but she was cute. Got me my first girlfriend too – Tammy Sharp. She had a male gerbil called Clay and she thought Jessie and Clay should get together." Gibbs chuckled to himself. "Pets sure are educational but her Mom wasn't too impressed when she found what we were doing in their hayloft."

Gibbs coughed as his throat dried up. How, he wondered, did Ducky and Tony manage to talk so much? He thought he was beginning to understand, however, the benefits of thinking aloud; he was remembering things that had been locked away for years and he realised how blessed his childhood had been in many ways. If it wasn't for the awkwardness of the situation, and caffeine deprivation, he could actually feel quite relaxed.

While Gibbs was experiencing a sense of peace and tranquillity, Tony was transfixed watching the numbers on the timer counting down. He mused on the oddity of how time went at different paces: how, when with a beautiful woman it raced but dragged when he plucked up courage to give blood. It seemed unfair that although he wasn't with a beautiful woman now time still seemed to be accelerating. With ten minutes left to go, and Gibbs in the middle of a new story about sneaking Jackson's coffee and spitting it out in disgust, Tony decided he had to communicate with Gibbs before they were 'smithereened'.

"So, Jackson said it served me right. And I swore I'd never drink … What the hell?" Gibbs broke off as he heard Tony tapping away.

"B-O-S-S, wanted to let you know how much you mean to me", he deciphered. "Hey, Tony, we're not dying here. And since when did you learn Morse code?"

Tony tried to concentrate on the tapping.

"N-O-T the time, Boss, I want to thank you for teaching me the job." spelt out Gibbs, "DiNozzo, that's good to know but we've just got to hold on. Tim and Abby'll find us."

Tony resumed the code.

"G-I-B-B-S there's a,"

Gibbs was decoding this when the door to their prison crashed open and McGee ran in with Dorneget behind him. They made sure the room was clear and then looked at the captives. McGee saw blood on Gibbs' head,

"Boss, you're injured. Dorney, go get Ducky!"

Dorneget ran out of the room in search of medical help and McGee knelt beside Gibbs and took the blindfold off,

"Good to see you, Boss. Couldn't track your watches. Something must have gone wrong with them. Oops," he said, as he noticed the remains of the watches on the floor, "Abby'll be mad about that. Luckily Abby was monitoring where you were so she knew roughly where you were when they went off line. We did some tracing …"

"McGee," interrupted Gibbs, "listen, DiNozzo's trying to say something."

Tony twitched in frustration as he tried to tap out another message,

"T-A-K-E this off, there's a …" Tim and Gibbs said together and then Gibbs realised there was a quicker way to work out what Tony wanted to say to them.

"Take the gag off," he ordered.

Tony wondered for a moment if Tim would obey or if he would prefer to keep the Senior Field Agent mute for a while longer. He was wrong, however, and Tim quickly took the gag off. Tony gasped and found his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to speak.

"Spit it out, DiNozzo," said Gibbs.

As Tony struggled to get the words out he jerked his head in the direction of the bomb on a shelf on the wall. Tim and Gibbs followed his gaze as Tony finally managed to speak,

"Bomb! Minute to go!"

Tim looked at Tony and Gibbs and realised he would need bolt cutters to get them free and that there was no time.

"Leave!" ordered Gibbs, "Go on, get out, Tim!"

For answer, McGee took the bomb off the shelf and ran out shouting, "Bomb! Get out of the way!" Tony and Gibbs heard Dorneget squawk in surprise and then a few seconds later, a loud bang followed by a huge splash as Tim threw the device into the water.

Gibbs looked across at Tony's drawn and pale face and realised the strain he had been under for hours as he looked death in the face. He nodded in acknowledgement of what he had gone through and of the burden of keeping the situation to himself.

Tony seemed to have got his voice back, "So, Boss, Jessie the gerbil. And you hated coffee?" He grinned obnoxiously and Gibbs groaned.

AN: I think I may have read a similar scenario of two people being held, one gagged and the other blindfolded but I think I've created my own take on the situation. Obviously I don't own the characters and have returned them to their owners in working order … Tony's voice is definitely working again, probably to Gibbs' despair!