Work Text:
Each tick of the clock. Each second passing by as Anthony DiNozzo sat slouched in the chair at his desk. The sound echoed in the quiet bullpen, loud in a way only silence could make it. The clock read 12:03 a.m.
“A new day,” Tony thought wearily as he stared, unfocused, at the report glowing back at him from his computer screen. The words blurred together, lines swimming as his eyes struggled to stay open.
They had just finished a big case. One of the long ones. The kind that dragged on for days and left everyone running on bad coffee and worse sleep. Gibbs was upstairs talking to Jenny, probably going over details that could’ve waited until morning. Ziva had left earlier, her jacket slung over her shoulder as she’d offered a quick goodnight.
She was probably sleeping now.
“Lucky Ziva,” he thought, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly.
His head pounded, a dull ache settling behind his eyes. He rubbed his temple absentmindedly, but it did little to help. His eyes felt heavier with every passing moment, lids drooping as his body begged him to give in. The chair creaked softly as he shifted, trying to sit up straighter, trying and failing to look like someone still awake.
The report was almost done. Just a few more sentences. Just a little longer.
-
Upstairs, Gibbs quietly closed the door to the director’s office behind him. The muted click echoed faintly as he glanced down toward the bullpen below. The lights were dimmer now, shadows stretching across desks that sat mostly empty.
His eyes landed on Tony as he started down the stairs.
Tony’s head was resting against his hand, elbow propped on the desk as he faced his computer screen. From a distance, it looked like focus. Like determination.
“Probably working on his report,” Gibbs thought automatically. But then he checked his watch and frowned slightly. He had been talking to Jenny longer than he realized. Longer than Tony usually lasted without complaining.
As he rounded Tony’s desk, the truth became obvious.
Tony wasn’t working on his report.
He was asleep.
His breathing was slow and even, mouth slightly parted as his head dipped forward just a fraction more. Gibbs glanced at the computer screen and saw the report nearly finished, the cursor blinking patiently at the end of the last line.
Gibbs placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, firm but not rough. “Tony?”
Tony jerked awake instantly, nearly knocking his chair back as his eyes flew open. “Oh! Boss,” he blurted out, scrambling to sit upright, hands already moving toward the keyboard as if to prove he’d been working.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow.
“Tony, you’ve done enough work for today,” he said calmly. “Why don’t you go home.”
Tony blinked, still trying to catch up, then glanced at the clock. His shoulders sagged in relief. “Yeah,” he murmured, a tired grin creeping onto his face. “Home sounds… really good right about now.”