Learning to Live Again
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Bellisario and CBS.
A/N: Warning….A small and relatively mild 'pre-sex' scene as well as reference to a male 'affliction'. Just so you know….
Tony smiled one last time - feeling his cheeks ache from the effort - and fumbled uncharacteristically with his car keys as he backed down the path.
"Thanks again, Dianne. I had a lovely evening, sorry about…ah, you know. Not sure how...um…it's never happened…um…I'll call you!" he quickly unlocked the car door and slipped inside, wincing in sympathy for his transmission as he ground the shift into first and pulled sharply away from the curb.
He flicked a quick glance at the rear view mirror and saw her silhouetted against the open doorway, already turning to go back inside as he made his escape.
Well DiNozzo, you've blown it again, he berated with himself as he drove toward his apartment, as though on auto pilot through the quiet streets.
God that was awful, the poor woman must think he's a complete ass.
He'd met Dianne two weeks ago at a crime scene. She'd been jogging through Rock Creek Park and had come across the dog tags and what appeared to be human tissue of a Marine who'd been UA since March.
Of course, he'd spotted her immediately they parked the van, wearing brief jogging shorts that showed her long tanned legs to perfection and a low cut tank top that hugged her generous breasts. She'd pulled her long dark hair back in a ponytail and even from that distance he could see the fine sheen of perspiration that glistened on her skin, her chest still heaving slightly from her morning exercise.
Pulling rank on the Probie, he'd hurried over to take her statement and there'd been an instant and mutual spark of attraction. A week later she'd called him and asked if they could meet for drinks. He'd agreed at the time but had spent the next few days wondering how he could back out of the arrangement. He could easily claim that he had a case and couldn't get any free time; she'd understand, she'd had the pleasure of meeting the Boss.
But he'd decided against making the call to cancel and had instead met her this evening - as planned- at a bar in Alexandria. The evening had started out well enough; she'd arrived earlier than he and was already on her first drink when he slipped into the booth across from her. She'd looked very beautiful in a black cocktail length dress, her dark hair brushed out and shining loosely around her bare shoulders. He'd felt the first faint stirrings in his groin and sat down quickly to hide his discomfort.
The next few hours were like a recurring nightmare; something that in the past eighteen months, he'd lived over and over. No matter how hard he tried, how much he was looking forward to the evening, he just couldn't escape.
She'd asked him about his work, he'd tried to play it down.
Just investigation really, mostly paperwork.
She'd looked unconvinced and asked him if he'd ever fired his weapon.
No, actually. Not for sometime now.
He'd tried valiantly to drag his mind away from his crotch and concentrate instead on her questions.
She asked him how he'd managed to stay single all these years, he'd laughed.
His work was demanding and his Boss a tyrant; he was definitely not marriage material.
The calculating look in her eye as she'd absorbed that reply had him breaking a sweat. He made some jokes and forced his cheeks to accommodate his most dazzling white smile, the one he used when he wanted to distract a woman from thinking straight.
It worked!
She changed tack and they spent the next while discussing college, recent vacations and a show that was playing at her local theatre.
When the pianist in the corner played a popular favourite she'd hinted that she'd love to dance and he rose good-naturedly and offered his arm. They had fit together nicely, her soft breasts pressed gently against the fabric of his shirt as he held her, the top of her head resting under his chin as they swayed to the music.
He had always enjoyed dancing.
Other couples joined them and it became necessary to hold her closer so they could negotiate the tiny dance floor.
The music had a calming effect; he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift along with the melody, lured by the perfumed aroma of her silky hair teasing his senses. His thoughts drifted to another time, another bar, another piano player and another woman…her beautiful smile, the joy, the love that sparkled in her dark eyes and the way she'd felt as he'd held her firmly against his length. How perfectly they'd moved together, in unison with the music, disconnected from the world around them.
Unconsciously he'd pulled Dianne closer and dipped his head low to rest his cheek against hers. He didn't notice when that tune finished and the next began, caught up as he was in his memories.
Eventually the piano player paused for a break and the spell was broken, he shook his head a little as he refocussed on the pretty face just inches from his own and cleared his throat as they made their way back to the booth. Encouraged now, Dianne had slipped along the cushioned seat to sit closer, her thigh brushing his and her hand resting on his arm. He'd laughed self-consciously and felt himself reddening like a teenager.
How they'd moved from the bar to his car, he didn't know but before long he was driving through the night toward her apartment, her hand on his thigh, her long nails playing dangerously close to his agony.
An hour later, Tony swung his car into the space reserved for him in his own apartment's garage and killed the engine. The parking garage was empty, just one light glowing near the stairwell door and throwing long shadows across the cement walls.
He tipped his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes tightly and groaned as he recalled what had transpired earlier.
On reaching Dianne's home, they'd undressed in frenzy, hands grasping, buttons flying and mouths clinging together hungrily as they moved clumsily toward the bedroom. Feeling the edge of the bed against the back of his legs he'd fallen back, taking her with him and rolling quickly to press her into the mattress.
And then…nothing.
No! No! No! Not again!
He'd willed himself to respond, ran his hands over her writhing form with renewed urgency and felt his heart stop the moment she paused in recognition of his plight.
How he'd managed to dress and get out of there so quickly was beyond him, seemed like lately no matter how fast his clothes came off, he could drag them back on faster. He'd stumbled over his explanations, refusing to meet her eyes and see the confusion that he expected to see as he hurried out the door to his car.
He didn't understand it, he'd never had this problem before…just the opposite in fact.
Slipping the cell phone from his pocket he flicked it open and scrolled through the photo albums saved within. He knew he should have erased her images and moved on, stop clinging pathetically to something that could never be. But as easy as it was to delete any trace of her from his phone and his life, it was not so easy to erase her from his memories.
Raising one finger he touched the screen, gently tracing her face as he recalled the feel of her in his arms, how natural it had felt to lie beside her, the slow rise and fall of her chest as he watched her sleep.
It was over, she wasn't coming back. He knew he had to move on and God knows he'd tried. After a few months he'd started dating again, started accepting invitations from friends, looking up old acquaintances, old flames. But somehow, no matter how much he thought he was ready to…well, to 'close the deal', something always held him back.
Hell, he could have died when the Boss figured it out, though thankfully he'd refrained from offering any advice. He could just hear that conversation right now, "if there's anyone who knows what it's like for a relationship to end in a car wreck, Boss, it's you…I mean…you could open your own wrecking yard."
No, that was one conversation that he and Gibbs would not be having.
He'd finally plucked up the courage to go see Ducky, thinking there may be something physically wrong with him. Despite a fierce reputation for being somewhat verbose, the aging medical examiner had poured him a spot of tea and listened patiently as he'd rambled on and on about everything except what was troubling him.
He didn't know how he'd done it, how anyone could have drawn the right conclusion from the stammering nonsense that had poured from his mouth that day but Ducky had. He'd waited and watched and then leaning forward had patted his hand and given his advice.
"Anthony, give it time, my boy, when your heart and mind are ready, your body will follow their lead."
He might have known that Ducky would understand and know exactly what to say. He'd almost died of embarrassment and even now could feel the tips of his ears burning as he recalled that scene in autopsy. But he'd clung to the older man's words and reassurance that this was just a temporary setback and that with time, he'd be 'back in the saddle.'
He'd take the ME's advice, he'd wait until the time was right and stop trying to force the issue.
Climbing out, he locked the car doors and turned toward the elevator. A soft bell chimed as the elevator car arrived and the doors slid open to reveal the lovely brunette who lived on the 6th floor. She smiled invitingly when she saw him, her dark eyes sparkling as she slowly lowered them to linger below his waist. He felt an immediate stirring in his loins and his heart skipped a beat.
He swallowed…Oh God…This learning to live again was killing him.
000-000-000
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.
Thanks especially to Garth Brooks for my shameless
theft of the title and final line.
You gotta love that song….