Hello once again. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review 'Baltimore' and here is the requested sequel about Tony's early days at NCIS while he earns his 'Special Agent' status. Tony will come across several of Gibbs' rules in this story and it will hopefully see the two eventually working as the team that we see on NCIS.
To any new readers, it isn't necessary to read 'Baltimore' first although there will be the odd reference to people and circumstances brought up in that story.
A thunderstorm managed to fry my internet router, (it literally made a crackling sound) so I was without access until BT sent out not only an engineer to tell me that the box was completely useless, but for them to send out a new hub, too. After all that, I can't remember if I've replied to everyone who took the time to message/review, so if you have duplicates, feel free to ignore it and if you haven't got a reply at all, I'm very sorry!
Ok, first chapter is an introduction to both Tony's and Gibbs' circumstances following the move to NCIS; Tony goes to FLETC and Gibbs tries to figure out his latest Agent.
Tony looked up at the entrance to the building with a certain degree of trepidation. FLETC was alive with activity; people seemed to be coming and going from every direction with speed and purpose.
He caught snippets of conversations that did nothing to allay his fears; there seemed to be so much talk of procedure and technological requirements. There was talk of tests and reading and assignments; it sounded far too much like school for his liking.
Tony was no idiot, but he had never much enjoyed academia.
Contrary to popular belief, he did read but he hated dissecting books to look for hidden meanings; he just wanted to enjoy a good story, not look for all the Gothic and Romantic connotations. Cinema usually managed to bypass all those pointless debates and just got on with telling a good story with the help of actors and CGI and surround sound.
His Phys. Ed. degree had focused primarily on human anatomy, diet and the like; great for knowing about the physical stresses of certain exercises and the benefits of one food type over another.
However, it seemed as though everyone he had met so far had more academic degrees in areas such as chemical engineering or information technology. There were some who had more practical and applicable degrees, such as criminal law or criminal psychology.
He knew that he was a good cop; it was one of the few things that he held no real doubts over. However, all the requirements, all the demands of the job at NCIS were making him doubt whether he had the academic requirements and the capability to see Gibbs' offer through to the end.
Tony had never been ashamed of his Phys. Ed. Major until he had started the transition from Homicide Detective to NCIS Special Agent.
It no longer felt like it was enough.
His first two days in DC had consisted mainly of filling in various bits of paperwork and dealing with more bureaucratic crap than he was used to; he had spent so much time in the Human Resources Department that he had hardly seen anyone, even Gibbs.
He had been dismayed to learn that not only was he expected to go to courses at FLETC, but that he also had to undergo a psychological review; he knew that it made logical sense for NCIS to perform such a task on their field agents, but Tony had a strong dislike for anyone trying to poke around in his head.
He had long since created a front to place between him and the rest of the world and he preferred it that way.
He had a couple of days until that particular pleasure but he was expected to start his courses before that; Gibbs had signed him up at the earliest possibility. Tony supposed that he should be grateful for the faith that the speed suggested Gibbs had in him, although he was finding that everything was moving just a little quicker than he might have liked.
Tony was used to the more sedate speed that most Police Departments seemed to run at; paperwork trickled in from every direction, with the Brass being just as behind on the bureaucracy that ran their lives as the men and women who worked patrol.
He was used to waiting a couple of weeks before he had a working forensic report on his desk; he had heard Gibbs demand one from Abby within hours of delivering the evidence to her laboratory.
He felt as though his life in DC was speeding past him in a hazy blur and he'd only been there two days.
"Coming or going?" asked an amused voice from behind him.
Tony turned to see a pretty woman of similar age eyeing the future agent with interest.
"Not sure," Tony grinned a little sheepishly.
"My first day, I ended up in the wrong class on the wrong side of the facility; walked into a self-defence class by mistake and I ended up being roped into it and being used as the practise dummy," she let out a small laugh. "Once you've been here a couple of days you'll find your way around easily enough."
"Good to know," Tony nodded. "Don't suppose you know the way to room WB 214, do you? I wouldn't want to be used as a human punch-bag on my first day," he offered with a wry grin.
"No, they learn to fight pretty dirty in those classes," she agreed sagely. "WB means the Wright Building, it's the one by the small coffee booth over there," he pointed to Tony's right. "And 214 is the 14th room on the 2nd floor; up the main staircase and turn left."
"That's great, thanks," Tony offered his hand and a mega-watt grin. "I'm Tony," he greeted the woman.
"Paula Cassidy," she shook his hand with a smile. "Who are you here with?"
"All by myself," Tony pulled his best kicked puppy expression, earning himself an eye-roll.
"Which agency?" Paula asked dryly with an amused quirk of her eyebrow.
"Oh," Tony had to stop the 'BPD' that almost sprang forth and think and remember that he now had to give a different answer. "Erm…NCIS, DC headquarters," he finally managed.
"You had to think about that," Paula pointed out with amusement.
"It's kind of a recent transition," Tony spoke up, his tone only slightly defensive.
"I'm with NCIS too; maybe I'll see you back in DC," she offered. "Whose team are you on?"
"Agent Gibbs," Tony replied, taking note of the way the woman had to fight to keep her eyebrows from disappearing into her hair.
So this was the guy Gibbs had brought in from Baltimore, Paula thought to herself with surprise. She had expected someone…well…someone not like the man in front of her; someone more severe and imposing, someone who looked as though they had seen more than a few years of service, someone that looked every bit as good as she would have expected given that Gibbs had reportedly fought for the man's transfer.
Tony looked too well-polished and too friendly and open to survive for very long serving on Agent Gibbs' team; maybe he would surprise them all.
"Well…good luck with that, Tony," she smiled before heading past him, stopping short of the doorway. "You know, the last Agent he had, Nixon, he was fresh out of FLETC and transferred TAD to Gibbs' team from another one; he didn't last too long."
"Thanks for the reassurance," Tony smiled thinly, not entirely sure if Cassidy was insulting him or Gibbs. "But I'm not Nixon."
"No," Paula agreed, giving him an appreciative once over. "No, you're definitely not. Maybe I'll see you around, Tony."
Tony certainly hoped so; he'd always liked women with a bit of fire in them. He wasn't sure what to make of her comment about Gibbs' team, though; everyone at NCIS already seemed to have formed an opinion on him based entirely on the fact that he was a former Baltimore cop and that Gibbs had been the one who had pushed for the transfer.
Clearly Gibbs had his own reputation within NCIS that was a rather contentious one.
He took a deep breath and headed into the Wright Building, taking the stairs up to the second floor, pausing momentarily outside of the room. Procedure, that's always a barrel of laughs, he thought wryly to himself.
Gibbs could not help but continually glance at the empty desks that surrounded him. Nixon was thankfully gone for good and Blackadder was on temporary loan to the FBI to work an old counter-terrorism case of hers that had cropped up.
That left just Gibbs and DiNozzo.
Morrow had allowed Gibbs two weeks off main rotation within the MCRT to help get the younger man through the basics at FLETC and to familiarise the younger man with NCIS protocol and the ever-flowing paperwork demands.
It was a long, slow and incredibly boring process that Gibbs had been through more times than he would have liked.
Now DiNozzo was at FLETC attending his first class and Gibbs was more than bored with looking through cold cases; only his unfailing loyalty to the Marine Corps kept him from wishing for a case that would involve a freshly murdered sailor or at the very least, one in trouble.
He was sure that, courses aside, DiNozzo would not need anywhere near the full two weeks to assimilate himself into the Major Crimes Unit at NCIS; the younger man already had six years of law enforcement under his belt and all the experience that went along with that time.
Using all the channels available to him, both official and otherwise, he had done more digging into DiNozzo's background and his personnel files.
The younger man had started off as any other cop; walking a beat. It seemed as though his time in Peoria had been without any major incidents and his Captain was full of praise for the man's keen eye and consistent dedication to the job. During his time there, DiNozzo interacted with a couple of different departments, primarily Traffic and Vice.
He'd also done his fair share of leg work; the usual hazing that seemed to exist within every branch of law enforcement ensured that he went dumpster-diving after potential evidence, carried out door-to-door enquiries and wasted hours leafing through mounds of paper-trails searching for possible leads.
DiNozzo had already stressed the point that he did not sign on with Gibbs to be treated like some rookie; he was finished with the hazing and felt that he had more than proved himself capable.
Gibbs agreed and knew that he risked losing DiNozzo if he tried to treat him like the rest of the probies that had passed through his care. That didn't mean that he was going to allow the younger man to get away without doing some of the dirtier work; after all, Gibbs himself had done more than enough dumpster-diving to last a lifetime and, thankfully, he had seniority.
The information he got from DiNozzo's files during his time in Philadelphia was a little more vague; thankfully, both Tony and Fornell had helped to bridge some of those gaps. However, he knew that he still did not have all of the information he wanted.
DiNozzo's personnel files from Peoria read like they were describing their golden boy; in Philadelphia the tone changed quite drastically.
There were plenty of commendations, not least the one that raised his status to that of a Detective, but there were numerous reprimands and several complaints. Only one of those complaints came from a civilian; Gibbs had actually laughed out loud when he discovered the man's profession: lawyer. It looked as though Tony would have no problem sticking to Rule Thirteen.
The rest of the complaints had been in-house and that worried Gibbs slightly.
He'd worked alongside the man without too many problems and, above all, they'd closed the case; Gibbs also knew how highly esteemed DiNozzo was by his former partner, the respectable Sam Jacobs.
However, even in the short time that Gibbs had spent at Baltimore's 22nd Precinct, he had picked up on more than a little hostility aimed at DiNozzo. Abby had initially been confused at how much respect and affection the lab rats held for the man, but that had clearly not been the case with the rest of the personnel in the Precinct.
There was a formal reprimand in DiNozzo's file about violence against another cop; the kid didn't seem the type to lose his temper in such a violent fashion but apparently the possibility existed. Given the lack of a suspension, clearly even the Brass thought that DiNozzo had a good reason for his outburst; but still, NCIS was unlikely to be as understanding should a similar incident occur.
Gibbs couldn't help but wonder what must have happened to ruffle DiNozzo's feathers and produce a violent outburst from the normally relaxed and affable young man.
The other reprimands from his time in Philadelphia seemed to refer to deviations from the SOP; clearly these deviations hadn't been so complete as to risk throwing a case, but enough to irritate the Brass.
That DiNozzo was not one to blindly follow the rulebook indicated that he would probably find a good home on Gibbs' team, but the Senior Agent was a little unsure as to whether or not he and DiNozzo would go to the same lengths to ensure a guilty man saw the inside of a jail cell.
DiNozzo was damn good at his job and it was obvious that he was prepared to bend the rulebook slightly to get the job done, but Gibbs was also convinced that the younger man would always try to solve his cases from within the law and act only as a cop, never as judge, jury and executioner.
He wondered if DiNozzo would stick around NCIS if he knew the truth about his new Boss and Pedro Hernandez all those years ago in Mexico, or if the kid would be the one to read him his Miranda Rights.
Gibbs wasn't prepared to put money on it just yet.
Jacobs had been a good partner for the kid during a rough time in his life and DiNozzo had repaid that loyalty and then some; so much so, in fact, that before the shooting DiNozzo had considered both Jacobs and Baltimore's Homicide Department to be permanent fixtures in his life, despite all the obstacles he faced by staying in a relatively hostile work environment.
If Gibbs could earn the sort of loyalty that he had seen exist between DiNozzo and Jacobs then he would be a happy man. Not since his days in the Corps had he felt that sort of brotherhood, that complete and unquestionable faith in the man at your back.
Franks had done a lot for Gibbs and, despite the man's many imperfections, the Senior Agent wouldn't hesitate to help Mike out in any way he could, no questions asked. Even though Gibbs had always been lumbered with someone to work with, he sometimes felt as though he had been working solo ever since Franks retired.
In Baltimore, alongside DiNozzo and Jacobs, Gibbs had felt the familiar feelings of brotherhood and camaraderie and trust stirring within. He knew that he and DiNozzo would make a good team, but Gibbs was sure that both men would get more out of the working relationship than a high case-closure rate.
If he could keep the idiot alive long enough!
DiNozzo's personnel records from Baltimore were generally of a more positive trend, except Gibbs saw clear evidence of the younger man's reckless streak. Sam Jacobs had warned Gibbs that he would need to keep a careful eye on the young man and try to stop him from diving head first into the closest spot of trouble he could find; judging by the medical notations in DiNozzo's file, it was clear that Jacobs hadn't been exaggerating.
Gibbs didn't really know what he could do to curtail that particular trait; head-slaps and a set of rules could only take you so far. He knew, however, that it he wanted the younger man to stick around for more than two years then he was going to have to do his best; he was sure that DiNozzo would be worth the extra effort.
"Here you are, Jethro," Ducky interrupted his musings as he placed a file on the Senior Agent's desk. "I've reviewed the autopsy notes and I'm afraid I could find nothing to suggest that I may have missed something the first time around."
Gibbs knew he was lucky with Ducky's attitude; many M.E.'s would have taken exception at the implication that they had missed an initial but vital piece of information pertaining to a closed case. Ducky had simply agreed to dig out his old notes and see if he had missed anything; he suffered no hit to his ego or any doubts over his abilities
"Thanks, Duck, it was worth a shot," Gibbs sighed as he placed Ducky's file on top of all the other ones he had reviewed so far, unsuccessful in his attempts to find a possible lead.
"Ah, I see you have once again decided to examine young Anthony's personnel file; what is it you are looking for, Jethro, if I may be so bold?" Ducky asked with a slight frown as he noticed just how creased the corners of the file had become due, no doubt, to Gibbs leafing through it so often in such a short amount of time.
As the newcomer had spent so much time trawling through paperwork in the HR Department, Ducky had not had a great deal of time to talk to Mr. DiNozzo, but having met the man in Baltimore the M.E. was inclined to believe that Jethro's continual examination of the young man's file would do nothing to appease Anthony's obvious insecurities.
"I don't know, Duck," Gibbs shook his head, and he really didn't; he had read the files before offering DiNozzo a job and had done so many times since. He knew all the information in them and had digested them and analysed them and he had come no closer to figuring out what it was he was searching for, exactly.
What he did know was that he felt DiNozzo's personnel files were wholly inadequate in explaining the man; if people came with instruction manuals, Gibbs was pretty sure that DiNozzo's would be one of the few he would actually take the time to read through. The man had only been in DC for a couple of days and already he had shown a multitude of faces.
On paper, DiNozzo appeared pretty straightforward; he was an only child from a wealthy New York family and he went to one of the East Coast's best boarding schools. He was an intelligent and athletic young boy with a natural charm and charisma that would have taken him into any school clique in which he wanted to belong.
From that, you would expect a happy childhood with no real issues.
But…
Gibbs knew more than that because he had asked Abby to dig into the younger man's life and she had done so with far more fervour that any Police Department could ever hope to achieve.
After the death of his mother, Tony's life seemed to take a pretty drastic change; Rhode Island Military Academy was normally a last resort for wealthy parents unable or unwilling to control their wayward children.
Gibbs knew that DiNozzo had a mischievous streak but he could not imagine him as a young child doing anything worthy of being sent away to Military Academy; DiNozzo's innuendos and pranks were not malicious in nature and he had already displayed good control over his temper, no matter who riled him up.
So the younger man's childhood was not as happy as one might have expected it to be, but that still left a lot of unanswered questions about the man's seemingly limitless personalities.
Questions that remained largely unanswered even after sifting through his life at Ohio State and after the Police Academy.
The personnel files from Tony's time on the Force were illuminating in all sorts of ways, but Gibbs felt that there was always something just beyond his grasp; trying to come up with an answer that was even remotely satisfying was like trying to grab a hold of smoke.
"Jethro, for as long as I have known you, you have made continuous references to trusting your gut; perhaps it would be wise to do the same in this instance," Ducky suggested, his tone only mildly disapproving.
Gibbs looked up at his old friend and caught the pointed look towards DiNozzo's now slightly ragged personnel files. He knew what Ducky was hinting at, as he too had considered DiNozzo's reaction if he ever found out just how many times his new Boss had poured over those scraps of paper looking for some indefinable thing.
"Maybe you're right," Gibbs sighed heavily as he closed the file; he would undoubtedly have to try and resist opening it again simply for the sake of it, but he knew all the information it contained and he wondered just how much time he would spend trying to figure DiNozzo out, how long it would take him to come to a satisfactory conclusion.
"He is an intriguing young man," Ducky mentioned as a concession, the stress on 'intriguing' could have been taken to mean something either positive or negative. "I believe, however, that he will make a fine addition to your team, Jethro."
Of course, Ducky was not going to mention his reasoning for that belief; he didn't think Gibbs would appreciate hearing it.
From the first time that Ducky had observed the two working alongside each other in Baltimore, he had noticed the effect it had on his old friend. Jethro was reticent by nature whereas Anthony seemed to be far more gregarious; the younger man might be discreet about his genuine emotions but he was quick to try and produce a response from everyone he came across, and that response could come in any form so long as there was a reaction.
Whereas Jethro would glare and frown and remain silent in his approach, Tony appeared to be someone who would charge onwards at full speed, ready to disarm with a smile and destabilise someone with a flawless dual act of idiocy and intelligence.
There were several Yin and Yang components to the ways in which they operated, and that sort of balance was something that Gibbs had been without for far too long, and something that his old friend desperately needed.
It was interesting to see the way the two men, so very different and yet so very similar, played off each other; their clashing personalities complimented each other in the field and provided plenty of amusement for those listening in. Gibbs' growling at Nixon had been full of animosity and contained promises of actual grievous bodily harm in the near future, whereas when they were directed at DiNozzo the tone was more like that of a long-suffering friend or a teacher at his wits end with an unruly child.
That DiNozzo could get the irascible Senior Agent to crack a smile meant more to the M.E. than he could put into words.
However, it was the similarities that made Ducky secretly smile; there was the way they both guarded their emotions, because no matter how different the methods may be the intent was still perfectly clear. They were both stubborn beyond belief and Ducky was shocked to hear Jethro talk of young Anthony's reckless streak with such venom and not realise the hypocrisy of such a speech coming from him of all people.
"I should get going," Gibbs said as he stood up, stuffing DiNozzo's file into one of his drawers. "Need to pick DiNozzo up from the training centre."
"Ah yes," Ducky nodded as he realised the time. "Young Anthony is still not prepared to risk his beloved car, I take it?"
"Something like that," Gibbs snorted. DiNozzo had initially asked Gibbs to come and pick him up from Baltimore rather than drive down himself because the kid had not yet fully recovered from his injuries; driving and carrying around all of his earthly belongings was not going to do him any good, no matter how few things he actually seemed to own.
Jacobs had warned Gibbs that dealing with a sick or injured DiNozzo carried with it a whole host of problems; apparently the younger man did not understand the idea of resting.
It seemed as though it was going to be through DiNozzo's car that Gibbs would have the best shot at getting the man to behave when circumstances required it; the damn kid could be bleeding out all over the floor and he would probably say he was fine, so long as the blood wasn't staining the interior of his precious car, of course!
DiNozzo was likely to want to go back to Baltimore soon and retrieve his cherished car, but until that time Gibbs didn't actually mind acting as chauffeur, even with DiNozzo fidgeting and fiddling with the radio dials. It gave the two men a chance to talk, and for the first time in a long time Gibbs had found someone he didn't mind talking to about the little things in life: football and cars and stories about past cases.
"See you later, Duck," Gibbs nodded to his old friend as he headed towards the elevator.
"Good night, Jethro," Ducky replied, trying to recall the last time Gibbs had worked a nine-to-five day.
If nothing else, DiNozzo's probationary period at NCIS was certainly going to be interesting. Of course, Ducky hoped that the young man's stay would extend beyond the trial period; he had added his own money to the betting pool the office had running and he hoped that in ten years, he would see the two men still working together.
Tony already had Gibbs' respect and he had no doubt that trust and loyalty would follow; after that, all that remained was for DiNozzo to realise he had a home in DC.
"Everything go ok?" Gibbs asked, noting the way his newest addition to the team sagged into the passenger seat with more than a little relief.
"It felt a little bit too much like school," Tony answered carefully, feeling almost as though he were actually an errant child being asked about his first day of school by an anxious parent.
Gibbs nodded his agreement; he remembered when he had started his first course at FLETC and had thought exactly the same thing. It had been frustrating for the former Gunnery Sergeant to waste time on a gun range being told how to shoot and maintain a weapon and the more procedural based classes had included many a long and arduous slog through the basics of criminal law and civil rights.
Gibbs passed the whole lot with flying colours, as he had no doubt DiNozzo would do, but he had not enjoyed much of his time at FLETC. He liked going out into the field and questioning people and walking around the crime scene simply because it felt like he was doing something; the constant activity kept him sane while the long, sedentary afternoons hunched over file-laden desks had numbed his soul past the point of boredom many a time over.
Every now and again, Morrow would insist that Gibbs take another course; sometimes they could be attended at NCIS and sometimes he had to journey out to FLETC in Virginia. He had never enjoyed any of the enforced classes and he thought that the sexual harassment seminars in particular were beyond a joke.
"Yeah," Gibbs agreed out loud with a sigh of his own. "The days can feel pretty long," he said as he supressed the wince that he could feel pulling at him beneath the surface of his stoic façade as he remembered that he was due for another seminar soon.
Tony was exhausted; his day at FLETC had been his first real full day of activity since the shooting and his body did not appreciate suddenly being asked to do something; he was thankful that he had stopped taking the painkillers otherwise he would certainly have fallen asleep in one of his classes.
Having to go over things that he had already studied at the Police Academy was more than frustrating, it was downright annoying. He couldn't just quietly nod off at the back of the classroom in case he missed one of the subtle nuances that differed federal law from state; at the same time, those differences were so rarely relevant for his profession.
The rest of the ride passed by silently and, thanks to Gibbs driving, quickly; even so, Tony struggled to keep his eyes open during the rest of the journey.
"Tony," Gibbs asked softly, his voice unable to mask his concern, making the younger man convinced that Gibbs had called his name more than once. He rubbed at his eyes and tried his hardest to focus on the Senior Agent.
"Yep, I'm back," Tony smiled, waving off the concern. He knew that he hadn't fallen asleep but he had been lost in his thoughts, once again questioning his ability to see Gibbs' job offer though to the end.
"Come on, there are a couple of steaks and some beers inside with our names on them," Gibbs gestured towards his home. He didn't even need to see the exhaustion in his eyes to know that DiNozzo needed them, and after a full day of cold cases, Gibbs was more than ready to tuck into a steak dinner.
As Gibbs set about the kitchen preparing dinner, Tony wandered towards the bathroom for a quick, refreshing shower; he thought that face-planting into his steak was not the way to impress his new boss.
Living with Gibbs until he found a flat had initially been a little awkward, but nowhere near as awkward as he might have imagined it would be; the man seemed to be doing what he could to make sure that Tony didn't overtax himself and had taken the time to find him a local physiotherapist with the help of Doctor Mallard. Tony hadn't even been allowed to cook him a meal or wash the dishes by way of recompense; in fact, any time words of thanks came forth Gibbs swiftly changed the subject.
Once he knew the man a little better, maybe then he'd be able to repay his kindness with something he would actually like; despite his gregarious nature he could do understated very well.
He left his shower feeling a little more alert and ready to face any inquiries into his long and arduous day. He scooped up a cold beer from the fridge and went into the living room where Gibbs was sipping on his own beer and looking at Tony's targets from his course at the range.
"A smiley face…really?" Gibbs asked with a hint of incredulity, although his blue eyes glistened with amusement.
He had found Tony's shooting target rolled up by his bag in the living room and couldn't help but take a look; there were only four targets and two of them contained a neat centre-mass grouping in both the heart and the head that spoke of fine accuracy and control. The other target had shots well-aimed at the limbs that spoke of an intent to wound, not kill; whereas the final target showed that Tony had been just as bored by his lesson on the range as Gibbs had been all those years ago.
"I was bored," Tony shrugged, completely unrepentant for the clichéd groupings in his shooting target, complete with two eyes, a nose and a smiley face.
He had never had a problem with shooting; right from his first time on a gun range, he had been praised for both his speed and accuracy. He generally shot what he was aiming at and he usually managed to hit where he had intended; a kill shot, to him, was just as easy as a wounding shot. Sam had helped work on Tony's natural skill and helped to mould him into an even more efficient shot.
"I don't need to be taught how to shoot; if after six years on the Force I still can't shoot, then frankly I shouldn't be allowed a gun. Mind you, some of the people there should never be allowed to holster a side-arm, in this life or the next!" Tony emphasised with a wince as he thought of some of the idiotic things some of the first timers had done at the range.
"That bad?" Gibbs asked, already aware of the answer. He had felt the same about Nixon; unfortunately he had only discovered Nixon's sub-standard shooting abilities when they were both in the field and Gibbs had been in just as much danger of catching a bullet from his own Agent as he had been from the trained Marine shooting at them.
It was a mistake the Gibbs knew he would never make again; he would never let an Agent under his command go into the field without his own version of training first, no matter who had initially taught them.
"One of them got a bullet stuck in the barrel, and instead of trying to clear it out sensibly, he thought he'd try and move it with another bullet; he's damn lucky the thing didn't blow up in his face. And there was one negligent discharge incident too many as far as my heart rate was concerned," Tony subconsciously rubbed a hand over his heart as he remembered the feel of adrenaline thumping through his veins as a bullet ricocheted unnervingly close by.
"And you thought you'd show them how it was done?" Gibbs asked as he waved Tony's smiling target.
"I just wanted to make sure that I've recovered full mobility and dexterity in my upper body; I have," Tony shrugged with his trademark mega-watt grin. "And it's been a while since I've been allowed to have a little fun on the gun range."
"Do you go a lot?" Gibbs inquired curiously. Judging from the targets, DiNozzo had fine enough control with his sidearm and he had seen the man shoot to know that live targets didn't faze him, but other than that Gibbs knew very little about the man's shooting style.
"Sam used to take me to the Precinct's gun range after a bad case, work out some of those issues," Tony offered with a wry, self-deprecating grin as he thought about how his partner used to insist on guns and paper targets rather than fists and a brick wall.
"Of course, him being an ex-Ranger and everything, my Academy training wasn't deemed good enough; he got me to shoot left-handed, and he would make me do it standing up, sitting down, kneeling, and even lying down. One time, he even covered one eye so that my depth perception and everything was completely messed up.
"It was just messing around, really," Tony's smile held a nostalgic edge to it as he recalled all the things his former partner used to do to help him out after a bad day. "When it came down to it he trusted me to watch his six, but I think he just liked teaching me that stuff. Am I going to have to learn to shoot like a Marine, now?" Tony asked teasingly, erasing his previous melancholy so quickly and completely that Gibbs had to ask himself whether or not it had ever really been there.
"We'll get down to the range soon enough; I've got a few teaching methods of my own," Gibbs' smile was anything but nice.
Ok, so the first chapter is out of the way; let me know what you think.
And for those of you who need it…
FLETC – It is the Federal Law Enforcement Training Centre.
Rule Thirteen – Never, ever involve lawyers.
SOP – Standard Operating Procedure.
Miranda Rights – it is what you will hear police say as they arrest someone: 'you have the right to remain silent…etc.'
Negligent Discharge – when someone fires off a shot without meaning to; in the military it can be a disciplinary offence, as it is assumed that a soldier is always in control of his/her weapon.
I will not be writing a romance fic between Tony and Paula Cassidy, but we all know that something happened between them, and this chapter is simply hinting that it happened after he joined NCIS but before the series started.
Next up - Tony works his first cold case with Gibbs and gets a little too emotionally invested; Gibbs does what he can to reel the younger man back in and teach him yet another of his rules.