Sixes
By Simply Shelby
"DiNozzo?" Jenny Shepard's voice echoed through the entryway to Gibbs's house surprised.
"Director," the young agent greeted, charmingly, looking up from a stack of papers, a beer, and a slice of pizza.
She shrugged off her coat and Tony stood to help her, but she gestured that it was hardly necessary; she was an independent woman, the Director of a Federal Agency.
He remained seated, but responded with a look that said, as if reminding her, that there was an ever-growing hint of a gentleman beneath his playboy exterior.
"What are you doing?" she asked, simply to break the silent communication.
He smiled wryly and held up some papers. "Bills."
Her eyebrows rose. "Gibbs' bills?"
Tony stopped smiling and nodded. "Yeah." There was a faint blush staining his cheeks. "Utilities, you know, heat and lights… I vacuumed, too. I tried to keep everything the way—"
"Tony," Jenny used his first name in an attempt to reassure him. "That's nice of you, Tony. But…" she hesitated, "How long are you going to keep paying them?"
"As long as I need to. I can afford it, trust me." Glancing up, he caught her look of doubt as plain as day on her features. "He'll be back, Director." His voice was confident, heartening.
Jenny wasn't so sure. "How do you know?"
Tony rubbed the back of his neck, in what Jenny was sure was a nervous habit. "He never said goodbye." From those words, Jenny caught a glimpse of the lonely, young man Gibbs was so fond of playing father to.
She sighed loudly and took the stool beside her young agent. "Maybe you're right." The Director knew Jethro Gibbs better than that, but she desperately wanted to believe the young agent.
"I am." He signed off on another bill and put it in the filed pile. Here she glanced a bit of the confident man who was doing everything in his power to keep his team together after a devastating loss. Something so tricky, she doesn't think she could do what he's doing. "There's pizza in the fridge and the bourbon's downstairs."
She smiled when she realised he never offered her the beer sitting on the counter. Perhaps Tony was better at reading people than she thought. She was half-heartedly tempted to ask for the beer, just to see the look on the kid's face; however, she'd never really liked the taste. "Thank you."
He simply shrugged. "Sure, Director."
For some reason, the title didn't fit in this situation. "Call me Jenny, Tony," she offered.
"Jenny?" he questioned dubiously.
"Yeah." Her voice was soft, trailing. "Jethro likes to call me Jen." Tony was silent and Jenny wondered if she was making some horrible mistake here. "It was the only name I told him not to call me when we first met. At first, it was so infuriating, but after—" she caught herself, "Well, I got used to it," she finished lamely.
Tony wisely didn't comment, still sifting through bills.
She was angry and she wanted him to know, wanted someone to know. "I was his partner for years, in every sense of the word, and he didn't even hint at having a wife and a little girl."
"I remember," Tony swallowed and hesitated before plowing onward, "I remember when my mother died… I don't think my father's even whispered her name once since then. Some people… it's easier to forget."
"But, he hasn't forgotten. In fact, he just relived it all." Tentatively, she reached for a slice of pizza, only to find it was barely warm. "I couldn't do anything. Neither could he. That's why he left."
"He'll be back," Tony reiterated, putting her slice of pizza on a paper towel and sliding it into the microwave. "He'll come back and everything… everything will be okay."
She couldn't lie to him anymore. She couldn't lie to herself anymore. "He's not coming back, Tony. I know Jethro. He's not coming back." She shook her head and froze as the microwave beeped.
Tony jumped up at the sound and placed the greasy, now unappetising, piece of pizza in front of her. "Don't give up on him just yet, Director. I'm only team leader TAD. File him for sick leave." Tony shrugged as she pushed her pizza back towards him. "If he's not back by then, then file him for retirement."
It wasn't as much an order as it was a plea. And his use of her formal title unbalanced her enough to get her to say, "Okay."
"Good night, Director." His head went back down to the bills.
She stood and slipped her coat back on. "Good night, Agent DiNozzo." As she slipped out the front door, she turned the lock until it clicked.
Tony was watching Gibbs's six, not to mention everyone else's. Jethro would kill her if she didn't watch Tony's.