Title: Made To Be Broken
Pairing: Tony/McGee, past/future Gibbs/Vance
Rating: T
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Romance
Cat: Slash
Spoilers: References scenes in Judgment Day, Enemies Domestic and Shabbat Shalom/Shiva. Takes place in the current season.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Tony and McGee would never dare to break one of Gibbs' rules, especially rule 12. But what will they do when they find out how that rule came about?
Author's Note: Written for colorguard28 for the 2014 NFA White Elephant Exchange using her second prompt: "Rule 12: Gibbs must have had his reasons for making the rule. Now that two team members want to break it, how does their situation compare with his original reasons?" I'm twisting canon quite a bit in here, and Delilah doesn't exist for the purposes of this fic. As I've already done I don't even know how many times, I'd like to thank her again for allowing me the freedom to write basically what I wanted with this prompt without any real restrictions. The story came to me immediately after I got the prompt set, so it was truly meant to be. ;)

He observed them, day after day, watching as their relationship grew and changed, morphed into something beyond co-workers, to friends, to something akin to brothers, but in time he saw the true nature of their partnership. It was subtle enough that mere acquaintances wouldn't catch on, but anyone who knew them, spent as much time with them as he did, would be able to see. They loved each other, in the way that lovers do, but he knew something was holding them back from being together – and that something was him.

Today found the two of them working together at McGee's desk under the guise of tracking a suspect's last known whereabouts. Gibbs knew it was just a way for them to be closer, and saw right through McGee's supposed annoyance at Tony invading his space. If he was truly annoyed, he wouldn't be smirking ever so slightly when Tony tousled his hair or called him one of his childish but affectionate nicknames, and he doubted they'd remain sitting so close their shoulders touched.

He heard them mumbling to each other, oblivious to him or even Ellie (who also seemed lost in her own world, that permanent look of naïve confusion etched on her face as she sat cross-legged on the floor behind her desk, eating M&Ms one by one as she did research on her laptop).

"DiNozzo," Gibbs spoke, causing the senior agent to jump away from his Probie and focus on the boss. Gibbs scribbled something on a piece of scrap paper and held it up. "Got an address. Take Bishop."

Tony's shoulders deflated at bit when he realized he wasn't going with McGee, but he recovered quickly. He was, after all, a professional. Even if he didn't always show it.

He stood up a bit reluctantly, casually glancing at McGee before he walked away. "You sure you can handle that search by yourself, McGoogle?"

McGee didn't look up as he rolled his eyes. "Now that I'll have some peace and quiet, yes." He looked up with a smug smile, and at his desk, Gibbs pretended not to see the almost imperceptible wink Tony directed at McGee.

"DiNozzo. . ." Gibbs warned, and Tony finally walked away, calling out for Mini Probie as he passed Ellie's desk, and the newest member of the team popped into a standing position, setting her laptop on her desk and scrambling for a couple of candy bars before hurrying after Tony as he stood by the elevator.

Gibbs waited until he heard the doors close after them before he spoke. "Tim," he said, his voice quiet.

McGee looked up with wide eyes. "Something. . ."

"My basement," he interrupted. "Tonight." McGee's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he opened his mouth, but Gibbs repeated, "Tonight."

McGee just nodded and turned back to his work, and just before Gibbs did the same, he felt someone's eyes on him and looked up at the balcony by the director's office and MTAC. He met Vance's eyes and they held each other's gaze for a moment, then Gibbs looked away.

It was time he explained the origins of rule 12 to one of his agents who most needed it.

McGee showed up at Gibbs' house around 8 PM. Gibbs hadn't told him a time, just tonight, and he hoped he wasn't too early, or too late, but he knew that Gibbs probably didn't care either way, as long as he showed up.

The trip down to the basement felt ominous, and McGee swore every step creaked extra loud as he descended into the lower level of Gibbs' house. Halfway down the stairs, he caught sight of Gibbs hunched over his workbench, concentrating on whatever he was working on.

"Boss?" McGee spoke, on the off chance that Gibbs hadn't heard him, which he knew was unlikely, as loud as the stairs had been, but he still felt the need to announce his presence.

Gibbs sat up straighter, setting down his chisel before turning to face McGee, who now stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs. He almost laughed at how nervous he looked, but figured that wouldn't help matters any. "You can sit down," he said instead, and had to hide another laugh at the expression on McGee's face.

McGee glanced around the basement, his brow furrowed, and finally muttered, "Where?"

Gibbs stood and pulled an extra sawhorse out and slid it a few feet away from him, motioning to it. McGee nodded and took a seat, shifting uncomfortably.

Gibbs watched him squirm for a few seconds, then said, "You got ants in your pants, McGee?"

McGee immediately stilled. "Just trying to get comfortable," he said, then folded his hands on his lap. "Uh, so what did you want to talk to me about?"

"DiNozzo."

Gibbs watched as McGee's cheeks paled, and he stammered, "Wh-what's going on? Is there something wrong with him? He's not leaving, is he?"

Gibbs shook his head the whole time he spoke, then said, "No, no, it's nothing like that. Tony's fine." He paused, then made sure he met and held McGee's gaze before continuing. "It's about the two of you."

The color returned to McGee's cheeks, and then some, as he flushed. He suddenly felt as if the smell of sawdust was suffocating him, and had to swallow hard before he could speak. "We. . . we haven't, uh," he cleared his throat, "we know your rules, Boss."

"I know," Gibbs said, and the tone of his voice relaxed McGee, and he just waited for Gibbs to elaborate, because he sensed the older man wasn't done. "My rules . . . have reasons behind them. I didn't just make them up without personal experience. Rule 12 is one of the ones I struggled with the most."

McGee just nodded. He remembered when Director Shepard started at NCIS, the sexual tension between her and Gibbs. It had been obvious they had a history.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're right, but . . . she wasn't the reason for the rule." Gibbs' attention had drifted elsewhere while he spoke, but he didn't need to look at McGee to see the confusion and curiosity on his face. "Before I was even partnered with her, there was someone else, at NCIS. It was a mistake, at least at the time. There was no excuse for it. There was just . . . something from the moment we met."

McGee nodded. He got it. He'd felt like that about Tony. He hadn't really entertained the idea of being with another man until he'd met Tony, and that had seemed unlikely at first, knowing Tony's skirt-chasing ways, but then he really got to know him and he realized it was very possible that Tony felt the same way about him. In any case, Tony sure liked touching him a lot.

He thought a bit more about Gibbs' words, his brain hovering over one part – at least at the time. Did that mean he'd rekindled something with this person, was it someone still at NCIS? He tried to think of who Gibbs could have known before he met Director Shepard, and who he was still close enough to where even the possibility of a romance was logical, but the pool of people was small, and he could only think of a couple who fit the bill.

He made a face as he looked back up to Gibbs. "It wasn't Ducky, was it?" he asked, not really sure if he wanted an answer to that or not.

That seemed to lighten the mood, though, as Gibbs grinned and laughed, shaking his head. "No, not Ducky. We're not that close."

McGee let out a sigh of relief. He was glad he could erase that mental image from his mind. But that still begged the question of who it was. It very well could be someone he didn't know (Gibbs knew a lot more people at NCIS than he did), but something told him that wasn't the case. He knew there had to be more of a reason behind Gibbs explaining his rule than just to say why he either approved or disapproved of him and Tony starting a relationship.

"I'm telling you this because I think you should know, Tim," Gibbs said, like he'd been reading McGee's mind. McGee met his eyes before he continued. "Shortly before I was partnered with Director Shepard, I met the man who succeeded her. Leon Vance." He smiled, getting lost in the memory. "You know how we met?" It was a rhetorical question, but McGee shook his head anyway. "He was arguing with McCallister and slammed his hand on my Danish." One of McGee's eyebrows lifted, but he remained silent. "I was kinda pissed. That was my breakfast! But he paid me back. Not until 5 years ago, but he paid me back."

Gibbs could tell McGee was wondering what any of this story had to do with anything, so he quickly made the connection clear. "McCallister introduced us – me this former Marine, Vance this guy straight out of college – and I just knew he was different. You know how it goes – we meet a lot of people in our line of work, but I had a feeling I wouldn't forget him. I hadn't realized yet at that time just how important he was going to be."

He fell silent then, letting McGee process his words, and finally McGee said, "So you and Director Vance."

Gibbs nodded, focusing on the small jar he used for a glass, which he'd picked up in the process of telling his story. "Yeah. Like I said, it was a mistake at the time. He was with Jackie and I knew. . . We both knew it was a bad idea, but try telling that to your heart." He rubbed a hand over his face, for the first time since he'd started speaking looking uncomfortable, but McGee wasn't sure if it was because he was telling this to a member of his team or because he was being honest about his feelings, something he knew wasn't always easy for his boss. Maybe it was both (most likely it was both), but he was glad he was hearing it, and while it would affect how he saw both Gibbs and Vance, he felt a ping of hope in his chest, knowing that at the very least, Gibbs understood his situation with Tony in a way he hadn't previously thought he would.

"Can I ask what happened?" McGee asked after another moment, then clarified, "I mean, why things, uh, ended."

Gibbs shrugged. "Timing. I was sent to France, so it was as good a time as any to end it. And we both forgot about it, or tried to, and moved on, but now. . ." He shook his head, and McGee raised his eyebrows again.

"You gonna break your own rule, Boss?" he asked, careful with his tone.

"Told you I always had trouble with that one, McGee." He took a drink, then put the jar down on his workbench.

"I'm guessing there was more to telling me that story than to let me know you and Vance have a history," McGee said.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He took a deep breath. "I'm not one for big speeches, you know that." McGee didn't say anything, but gave him a look that agreed. "I don't want you two making the same mistakes I did. What happened back then . . . shouldn't have happened. It wasn't the right time. I still don't know if it is, but. . ." He got a look on his face like he had to make the most difficult decision of his life, then whispered, "Fuck."

McGee was momentarily surprised at the vulgar language, but more surprised at the intensity of Gibbs' emotions about the situation. He hadn't realized the depth of Gibbs' relationship with Vance, though he supposed he should have seen it coming in retrospect. They were fiercely protective of each other, just as Gibbs was of all of them, and the level of trust they had in each other was astounding, considering the amount of sheer politics and bureaucracy involved in Vance's job especially.

But he knew what he felt, and he knew that even if Tony couldn't admit it out loud quite yet, he felt the same way. And it was that assurance in their feelings that gave him the confidence to hold his head up straight and tell that to Gibbs. "This isn't a mistake," he said. "I know it's not, and Tony knows it's not. We can be professionals. It's not the same situation, Boss. I think you know that."

Gibbs remained silent, not even nodding or shaking his head, though finally he held up a hand, shaking a finger at McGee. "That's what I wanted."

McGee looked confused. "What. . ."

"I wanted you to have the balls to tell me what Tony means to you, to stand up to me, to that rule. I knew you wouldn't break one of my rules without a good reason, you specifically, Tim. That rule is there so you think long and hard about what you're willing to risk. I wasn't always that smart, you know. I could have ruined my future at NCIS, could have ruined my relationship with Vance." McGee just stared at him, not really sure where he was going with this. "Lucky for me, Leon's a forgiving guy, and he was happy with Jackie. We put it behind us, moved on with our lives. . ." Gibbs met McGee's eyes again, and he could see he had McGee's full attention now. "That changed when he moved back to Washington."

"He reassigned us," McGee said, feeling the need to remind Gibbs of one of Vance's first acts as director.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, he did. He had a good reason for it, but I was just as pissed as you were . . . until he let me in on what was going on. And he let you all come back."

"Like you would have settled for anything else," McGee said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Gibbs snorted softly. "True." His expression turned troubled. "He almost died. And then Jackie. . ."

McGee shifted again, suddenly back to feeling awkward. But then he realized that, maybe without him even knowing it, Gibbs was looking for advice. This was a difficult situation, for so many reasons, some of them McGee could never possibly understand, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Gibbs was the perfect person to be there for the director.

"Boss?" McGee said, and Gibbs looked up, waiting for him to continue. McGee cleared his throat. "Maybe I'm overstepping here, but I don't think Director Vance trusts a lot of people. He seems to trust you, though. And, uh, you've been where he is right now. I can't pretend to know what it's like, but maybe what you need to do is just be there for him. If something happens, then it happens." He shrugged, not really knowing what else to say.

Gibbs stared at him for a bit, making McGee feel like he indeed had overstepped his boundaries by offering his opinion, but then he nodded and pushed himself to his feet. "That's good advice, Tim." McGee visibly relaxed and Gibbs nodded toward the stairs. "Now get out of here. It's still early, and I'm pretty sure I saw someone pouting when he left work today."

McGee blinked a few times, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Gibbs was essentially giving him permission to go over to Tony's place and . . . well, who knows what would happen once he got there. But then he thought about the expression Tony would have on his face and broke out in a grin himself, looking up at Gibbs before standing. "Thanks, Boss," he said, and Gibbs just nodded again. He took the cue and headed for the stairs, leaving in a much more jubilant mood than he'd arrived.

Gibbs waited until he heard the front door close behind McGee before turning back to his workbench. The jar he'd been drinking from sat there, only a few drops of liquid remaining in the bottom, and he picked it up, then lifted the cloth from what he'd been working on when McGee arrived.

It wouldn't take much longer to finish the plaque, and while he was sure Vance didn't need the reminder, he hoped it would serve as a bridge, a way for him to show his concern, that he was thinking of him, without erasing what his wife meant to him. He would never forget Shannon; he wouldn't ever expect Leon to forget Jackie.

He ran his fingers over the raised flowers, ones he remembered seeing at the funeral, ones Leon had mentioned being her favorites. It was a small gesture, and he wasn't sure how Leon would take it – he hoped enough time had passed where he wasn't angry anymore, where he would accept the hand he was offering – but the only thing he could do now was try.

He tossed the cloth back on the plaque and headed for the stairs himself, his thoughts turning to his agents, how happy they would be tomorrow when they came in, and that alone was enough to make him smile. Their relationship sure as hell wouldn't be perfect, but he knew they had the ability to make each other happy and that was all that mattered.

McGee wasn't the type to speed, but he had a hard time keeping his foot from pressing down too hard on the gas pedal as he drove to Tony's apartment. He'd had to take a few deep breaths once he'd reached his car, because his hands were shaking so much. So many years of waiting, nearly giving in, and now he was finally free to do all the things he'd dreamed of doing – well, as long as they were okay with Tony, that was.

Soon enough, he found himself turning onto Tony's street, the familiar apartment building a welcome sight and also one to bring the feeling of nervous excitement back full force. What was he going to do?

"Screw it," he muttered to himself as he turned off the car, pulling the keys from the ignition and pocketing them. He quickly got out and pressed the button on his keychain that would lock the doors, the lights flashing at him to let him know he'd been successful, then jogged to the building and headed straight for the stairs, needing the distraction of climbing to keep him from chickening out and just driving back his own apartment.

He reached Tony's floor out of breath and slowed down as he walked to his partner's apartment, holding a hand to his side. He took a couple of deep breaths to get his breathing back into a normal rhythm, knowing Tony would just tease him if he answered the door to him basically panting, making some comment about him being all hot and bothered. And while that may very well be true in this case, he wasn't about to let Tony have the satisfaction of being right.

Once he was sure he was breathing at a normal rate again, he finished the walk to Tony's door, not even hesitating before knocking. He fidgeted a bit as he waited for Tony to answer, anything to keep himself from turning and running, but it didn't take long before the door opened and he saw Tony's smirking face.

"Hey, Probie. Missed me that much, huh?" he said, and McGee just stared at him, thinking about Gibbs' words, Rule 12, how Tony's shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a tuft of chest hair, how he smelled like a combination of Old Spice and soap. . . "McGee? You okay?"

McGee blinked and, without even realizing what he was doing, lunged forward, grabbing Tony's face in his hands and kissing him. Tony seemed surprised at first, but then returned the kiss, resting a palm on McGee's cheek while he used his other hand to drag McGee into the apartment and then push the door shut behind them.

The noise of the door closing shook McGee back into reality and he suddenly pulled away, meeting Tony's wide eyes. "What was that about?" Tony asked. "Not that I mind, but. . ."

"I just came from Gibbs' house," McGee said, and Tony frowned.

"What's going on?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

McGee hesitated, then asked, "Do you know the reasons behind Rule 12?"

"Never date a co-worker?" Tony confirmed, and McGee nodded. Now it was Tony's turn to hesitate, before nodding. "Yeah. Gibbs told me a year or two ago, when Ziva. . ." He trailed off, not needing to remind McGee of their former co-worker. "That's not important. She's not here, but you are." He raised his eyebrows before continuing. "He tell you about it?"

McGee nodded. "Yeah. Kinda weird, but I guess it makes sense."

"So that's why you showed up here wanting to make out?" Tony asked, his smirk returning.

McGee shrugged. "I didn't know what I was going to do when I got here. All I knew was that . . . Gibbs gave us his blessing." He waited for Tony's reaction, finding himself holding his breath.

Tony once again looked surprised. "He . . . what? I swear you just said Gibbs gave us his blessing."

McGee nodded and licked his lips, his mouth feeling dry. "I didn't. . ." He cleared his throat. "It's not like I asked permission or anything. He just. . ." His words disappeared as Tony stepped closer to him and reached out, beginning to unbutton his shirt. He watched as the buttons slipped out of the holes and tried to continue speaking. "So, you know, if that's something. . ."

"Tim."

"Yeah?"

"Does it look like you really need to be asking me that question?"

McGee remained silent, then said, "Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"Wanna make out?"

Tony definitely wasn't pouting anymore.

A few nights later, Gibbs sat in his basement, working on the plaque, when he suddenly paused, setting down his chisel and sitting up straight. He waited a few seconds before turning and facing the person standing at the top of the basement stairs.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Vance said, descending the stairs without waiting for an answer.

"Nah," Gibbs responded, moving just slightly as Vance joined him at his workbench, gazing down at the plaque, which he intentionally hadn't covered up. "It's not finished yet, but it's getting close."

Vance continued to stare down at it, then reached out and ran his fingertips across the top, where Jackie's name had been etched. He kept his eyes on it for a few more moments, then looked up at Gibbs. "Thank you."

Gibbs held his eyes. "I wanted to give you something as beautiful as she was," he said, and he watched the expression in Vance's eyes change, grief and awe and appreciation, and he knew what was going to happen next.

Vance engulfed Gibbs in a hug, the kind where emotions take over and there's no pretense of keeping it manly or trying to hide everything you're feeling, and Gibbs returned it, closing his eyes as he held this man who'd come to mean so much to him.

They remained silent, saying everything they needed to through their embrace, until Vance pulled away. He put a bit of distance between himself and Gibbs, then spoke, his voice quiet. "I don't think I'm ready yet, Gibbs."

Gibbs stared at him, then nodded. Vance didn't need to specify what he meant; Gibbs knew it was both a confession and an invitation for the future, one Gibbs would respect until that day came.

"That's okay," Gibbs said after a moment. "I'll be here."

Vance smiled and reached up, placing his hand on Gibbs' cheek as they shared a meaningful look. They both realized the relationship they had, how unique and special and important it was. It wasn't something that came naturally to them and they would have to work harder than ever to keep it from overwhelming them, but it was an effort they were both willing to make, for themselves and each other.

They couldn't do it alone, so they would do it together.

THE END