<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">The arrival of hurricane Abby at least pulled Gibbs's eyes away from the OR door.  He accepted her hug automatically, but her straightforward question about Kate's survival drew him up short.  Of course Kate would make it.  The alternative did not bear thinking about.<br/>
<br/>
He bore her fussing over his wound as patiently as he could, relieved when her attention shifted to DiNozzo and McGee.  It didn't register in his mind that he hadn't said a word to her -- his attention was once more locked on the OR.<br/>
<br/>
Tony blinked at Abby -- and her sudden desire to chant a single word in a loop.  It didn't register immediately that she was saying 'Change' because he had his cell phone to one ear on hold and Gibbs's cell phone on the other ear, talking to dispatch.  But the look on her face... that did sink in.  He looked down at his shirt, only now comprehending how much blood was on it.  On him.  Kate's blood.  Oh God.  <br/>
<br/>
Tim rose from the floor -- it was the best place to sit and work on the laptops on the coffee table -- and headed for the pile of bags where they'd dumped their gear and started digging for clean shirts when he heard Abby's chant, and had just retrieved two clean NCIS t-shirts when he heard an unfamiliar voice.<br/>
<br/>
Gibbs turned to the newcomer.  "Anything you got to say to me, you can say in front of my team," he growled.  "And I'm not going anywhere."  His eyes returned to the OR door.  "DiNozzo, change your shirt before Abby hyperventilates."<br/>
<br/>
"On it, boss."  Tony took the clean t-shirt Tim handed him, and without regard for their location stripped out of what he was wearing, using it to scrub at the dried blood on his skin.<br/>
<br/>
Tim crossed the room and handed Gibbs the second shirt.  "You too, boss," he said, and didn't flinch at the glare.  "You're covered in blood too," Tim added quietly.  <br/>
<br/>
Just as Tony had, Gibbs pulled his shirt off where he stood, swapping it for the clean one.  He didn't care how it looked -- didn't care if the nosy intruder thought they were both out of their minds.  Maybe he was, a little -- because he couldn't look away from the damned door.</span></span>