What They Didn't Know
As he stepped out of the elevator, prepared to face whatever his teammates had to throw at him, Anthony DiNozzo slid one hand into his pocket. It was meant to look cocky: the handsome, brazen Italian Agent striding in, completely relaxed as though his heart wasn't just as broken as the car that lay in ashes or the burnt corpse inside it, the corpse that should have been him... They didn't know. They didn't understand. It should have been him. Instead a poor faceless bastard was lying on Ducky's table. And Tony was jealous. He hated the rancid feeling that rose like bile in his throat. If it had been him, like it should have been, Jeanne would still... He swallowed hard, his mouth still more dry than his eyes. He blinked hard, the slick tears even harder to hold back as his fingers brushed something in his pocket. The feel of the soft velvet covered box made him catch his breath. It was meant to be perfect. He had been willing to give up everything for her, just to wake up with her in his arms, to spend his life with the woman he loved. The woman he would have died for. The woman he had lived for. Swiping one hand across his eyes, Tony pulled his hand from his pocket as though it were burned. Squaring his shoulders, he plastered on a grin.
"Hey my car blew up this morning. Did you do that?" As if his car was the only important thing he had lost...