Plenty to be Thankful For

Spoilers for Frame Up

Walking into his apartment for the first time in over a day and a half, Tony stopped to take a breath, his senses unconsciously recording the smell and feel of his home. Reaching behind his body, he flicked the deadbolt on his door. The snick of the lock sliding into place made him flinch as his mind replayed the sound of the holding cell bars sliding closed.

Self-disgust rose momentarily as he grumbled. "Reality check – you aren't there anymore, DiNozzo."

He moved forward, performing his home-from-work tasks by rote. Keys and cell phone were dropped carelessly onto the hall table; shoes toed off to haphazardly lie next to a table leg. Walking behind his sofa, he shrugged out of the suit jacket he'd worn for too long and watched it fall over the tall back cushions. Adrenaline oozing out, he sagged a bit against the furniture, knowing its sturdy frame would support his weight. He hadn't had that feeling in several days and his joints and muscles were unbelievably tense from a strain he hadn't acknowledged. He let his head drop to his chest and concentrated on breathing slowly. His body leaned heavier into the solid frame as he felt his spine seemingly uncurl one vertebra at a time, shoulders lowering and uncurling as the tightness in those muscles eased minutely. Shaking himself back to awareness as he realized his vision had grayed to a single point on his carpet; Tony steadied himself by grasping the back of the sofa until he felt with it enough to continue to his destination.

Taking a few deep breaths at first, Tony then moved down the hall, fingers absently working over the buttons of his dress shirt. He shook his head in surprise as he realized he'd managed to completely undo them. Sighing deeply yet again, he let the shirt fall to the floor just outside the door to his bathroom. Padding thru the doorway, he hit the light switch on the wall, flooding the room with too bright light. Squinting, his fingers scrabbled to find the dimmer knob he'd installed shortly after moving in to the unit.

Light adjusted more to his preference, Tony walked over to the bathtub, sliding the curtain across the curved the rod to enclose the area and moving the levers, starting the stream of water from the showerhead. He turned towards the large mirror over the sink, critically eyeing the body in the reflection staring back at him.

He snorted quietly. 'Isn't a mark or even a scratch visible, yet this time I feel almost as bad as when I had the plague.'

Turning away from a view he no longer wished to see, he efficiently removed his pants, underwear and socks, nudging them towards the waiting hamper with a toe. He'd deal with them later, when bending down to pick them up didn't invoke a groan. Tony stepped past the curtain and into the tub, jerking a bit as the heavy stream of hot water struck his chilled skin. Slowly he inched further into the stream as his skin grew accustomed to the temperature. After standing near motionless for several minutes, Tony reached up towards the shower head and flipped a dial to change the setting. The already strong water stream began to pulse and he turned his back to it, stepping further into the force of the water.

Tony remained in the shower, just standing under the spray until the temperature began to cool. Reluctantly he turned and turned the levers, ending the flow. He pulled the back the curtain and reached to grab a towel from the nearby shelf that was mounted on his wall. A high pressure, large shower head and thick towels had been the luxury purchases he'd made for this room. There were other things he'd thought about buying such as a heated towel rack but figured none of them were really necessities so he could put them off a while longer and concentrate on other things.

He took a minute to dry off in the tub before knotting the towel around his waist and stepping out. The mirror was still steamed over but Tony didn't care. He really wasn't as much of an appearance hog as many thought he was. Turning and walking out of the room, he crossed the small hallway into the master bedroom.

The room held another feature that had helped convince Tony to sign a lease when he saw the unit. Newly-remodeled when he'd toured it, the room was large with a block of three windows on one wall and a walk-in closet that, once he'd installed the organizer system, gave him a place for his clothes as well as extra storage. He entered the closet and soon emerged wearing an old pair of sweats and t-shirt. He'd leaned in to grab a pair of socks before shutting the door and sat in the nearby recliner to put them on. Tonight was all about physical comfort and he was grateful to have had nothing planned prior to their latest case.

He walked back into the main living area and flipped the switch on the gas fireplace. Moving into the kitchen, he opened the fridge. He wasn't really hungry but knew he needed to eat. Pulling out a pizza box that had been delivered two nights prior, he tossed a couple of slices on a plate and heated them in the microwave. Reaching into the fridge again, he groped around until he pulled out a bottle of beer, twisting off the cap and taking a drink as the microwave beeped at him. He collected the plate and took both plate and bottle into the living room.

Tony placed his dinner on the nearby coffee table and contemplated popping a movie into his DVD player but decided that he preferred the silence to excess noise. He'd just picked up the pizza and was ready to take a bite of the gooey meal when the smell of it assaulted his senses. His mind flashed back to the last time the scent of his favorite toppings had filled his nostrils – just the other evening when Gibbs had come down to Fornell's holding cell, bringing him dinner and then being forced to listen to Tony nearly lose it as he babbled, revealing more than the other man needed to know about his insecurities and fears. He dropped the pizza back on its plate and glared at the beer bottle almost willing it to disappear before collapsing back against the sofa.

Tony closed his eyes, bringing his palms up to press against the sockets as if warding off a headache that hadn't developed yet. His hunger had vanished although it hadn't really been there to begin with. He'd been planning on eating because he knew that Ducky would eventually lecture him for the downward spiral in his eating habits. Finally having gotten control of the turbulence inside, he rose and carried the plate and bottle back to the kitchen, depositing them on the counter to deal with later. Tony ignored the fact that he wasn't even remotely tired and flicked off the light switch and then the fireplace as he walked towards his bedroom. He glanced at his watch, smiling slightly as he realized that his nanny used to put him to bed this early when he'd been bad. He shed his shirt and socks before sliding in between his sheets, figuring that he had to have a lot of sleep to catch up on.

Meanwhile in a different house in a more family oriented neighborhood, Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat amidst his hand tools and partially completed boat in his basement. A mason jar partly filled with bourbon dangled from his fingertips nearly forgotten as he stared almost unseeing at the boat. He'd come down to the basement after changing out of his office clothes hoping to find the refuge that he normally found. But instead, in the quiet and alone with his thoughts, he found his mind constantly replaying the monologue he'd heard when he'd gong to take DiNozzo the pizza.

For a man who acted like his life was an open book to be read by everyone, Tony, in fact, had as many secrets as Gibbs did. Why he found that surprising he wasn't sure. But Gibbs knew he'd been surprised and disturbed by all Tony had revealed about his past. Gibbs was also quite angry with himself for not anticipating the reaction to being locked in the FBI holding cell while the rest of the team figured out who had set him up. Despite his carefully cultivated, brainless image, DiNozzo was anything but and having to sit on the sidelines when the outcome of the case would have a personal effect on his life had pushed his senior field agent past the brink of tolerance. He'd unloaded more on Gibbs than he ever did during their time alone together.

And that thought fueled more irritation inside him. On a night when each man should have needed the other, both Gibbs and Tony had agreed to stick to their normal pattern and spend the evening in their own homes. Now, sitting alone in the chilly, quiet basement, Gibbs wondered how Tony was doing. He'd acted normally after he'd returned to the Navy yard; had even been right behind Gibbs as the puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place and the team raced downstairs to Abby. But Gibbs had known what the cost of the whole escapade would be for Tony. He'd wanted to suggest that they forego their routine and spend the remainder of the evening together.

But Tony had been ready to leave before Gibbs was done with all of the paperwork. Having been the suspect in the case, there had been no report or other paperwork for DiNozzo to complete so he'd been charged with seeing to Abby while the others processed Chip and completed paperwork. DiNozzo had been gone by the time Gibbs had time to return to the lab and Abby was much calmer as she walked around talking to her machines as if they were her children. She'd given him a hug, her non-verbal way of thanking him for making sure Tony was free and keeping her safe. He'd been about to ask where DiNozzo was when Abby had said that she'd already sent him off on his way because he'd looked exhausted to her and that he'd smiled and asked her to tell Gibbs that he'd see him the next day as planned.

Gibbs smiled as he thought about Abby's excitement over knowing that her two favorite guys had plans for the holiday. He'd tried to convince her that it wasn't a big deal but she'd hear nothing of it. Fortunately she'd also realized that she needed to get home to the cranberry recipe she'd promised to make for her own dinner so their conversation hadn't moved to the endless amount of questions he knew she'd been dying to pepper him with.

He'd been so tempted to detour to Tony's place on his way home and had tightened his grasp of the steering wheel to avoid turning in that direction and continuing to his own neighborhood. He'd done his normal routine once he'd reached his home but was still unsettled and restless. He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to work on his boat so had opted for bourbon instead. Resolutely pushing all thought from his mind, Gibbs downed his drink and poured another one. He'd see Tony tomorrow and prove to himself that he was ok and had no new scars, psychologically or emotionally, from the frame up.