Author's Note: So I wanted to write an episode tag/missing scene for S11's Crescent City Part 2, but I wasn't quite sure what about. Thought I might do some McNozzo, but I've been feeling a bit discouraged with the whole McNozzo thing. So this happened. Yeah, Tony/Gibbs. Go figure. Nothing much. Just a small moment. I know Tibbs is an old-school ship, and quite frankly I don't even know if people still write these stories set in the more current seasons. I'd be thrilled to know about who still does! Pardon my ignorance. I feel kind of like an interloper in ship-land.

I'd like to dedicate this one to Cackymn, who is quite awesome at the whole Tibbs game. I love reading this pairing, but it's quite intimidating to write! I admire anyone who can do it well.

Category: Drama, missing scene/episode tag, short/ficlet
Rating: FR13/K+
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
WARNING: Possible spoilers for S11's "Crescent City Part 2"

Story is based on a comment Gibbs made in the episode when asked about any current wives. He said, "No, I'm on my own now, Felix. It's better. Better for everybody."

"On His Own (Except Not Really)"

He sent a text message to Tony's personal cell phone, a 410 number that had never been changed. He had to concentrate as he jabbed the letters with an unpracticed finger. He was getting better at it. Slightly.

How is Tim?

Several moments passed, but he knew how attached Tony was to his phone. Soon there was a happy ting in reply.

Call me.

Gibbs glanced up at Bishop who was sitting across from him at their gate, her feet propped up on her duffle bag. They'd missed their original flight but had managed to secure two seats on a non-stop red-eye. Bishop seemed deeply engrossed with her own phone, probably texting an impatient husband. He pushed speed dial number three and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey," Tony answered on the first ring. "When's your flight come in?"

"Not 'til four in the morning."

"Oh, that's harsh. Need a ride from the airport?"

"No. We have a car there."

"Okay."

"How's Tim?" Gibbs asked, impatient.

"He's doing fine. Got clobbered pretty hard, though. He was out of it, spoke nonsense for a couple hours."

"You staying with him?"

"Yeah. I'm sitting on his couch watching bad cable movies."

"He with you now?"

"No, he's in his room, sleeping. He had a killer headache earlier. There was some impressive projectile vomit, but I got the situation under control. Don't worry."

Gibbs sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I feel guilty," Tony admitted. "I could have gone instead of him." He sounded tired.

"You didn't know."

"I know, but I still feel guilty."

"You should get some sleep," Gibbs suggested.

"Can't. Gotta wake him up in a bit. I'm good." There was a yawn. "So... How was parting ways with your old buddy?"

Gibbs shrugged even though he knew Tony wouldn't be able to see him. "No different from any other goodbye. I hadn't seen him in years. Hadn't spoken to him in years. He hasn't changed a bit."

The whole trip down here to New Orleans had been a blast from the past. They'd joked like the old friends they were. He remembered the words he'd traded with Felix. So casual, as if it was a line he'd rehearsed over and over again.

"I'm on my own now, Felix. It's better. Better for everybody."

God, if anybody knew.

Pride would choke on his red beans and rice, for sure.

"Figure it'll be years until we run into each other again," Gibbs went on. "Some friendships are like that."

"That so?" Tony sounded worried. Actually, paranoid would have been a more fitting term.

"Sometimes I think it's better for the past to stay in the past. Some things are damn disappointing. Some people are."

"Really," Tony responded flatly.

"Yeah." Gibbs paused. His brain was only now catching up with Tony's mood. "C'mon, Tony. What's wrong with you? You know I'm not talking about you and me. Christ, how many times do I have to rehash things for you?"

"I'm sorry. I mean, not sorry. I mean, sorry," Tony responded comically. "I seem to have a voodoo-induced migraine. Go 'head and thank Bishop for that."

Gibbs chuckled. He looked up and noticed Ellie's stare. The gate wasn't too crowded yet, which meant that even his quiet voice had carried. Gibbs' was only now realizing his tone. This wasn't his at-work "shut the hell up before I make you shut up, DiNozzo" way of speaking at all. When he caught her eyes, she quickly looked away.

But Tony was already yammering some more in his ear. "I'm just tired, I guess. Or, I don't know, with all of this lying about the truth... and then I think maybe it's not a lie. Maybe we've 'been there, done that.' And you know, I'm always waiting..."

"For what?" Gibbs asked. He had decided to ignore Bishop for now.

"For the other shoe to drop." There it was again. The paranoia. "I've been having terrible luck lately."

"Hey, Tony-"

"I don't know what I'd do."

Gibbs started rubbing his eyes again, strung out and weary. This was what Tony did when he let everything fall away. He was a damn broken, melodramatic mess. Must have been those Italian genes coming through. "Just stop. Relax. Don't be so pathetic."

"You're right."

"You know I am," Gibbs answered, smirking into the phone. "Now go check on Tim. Flight boards in thirty minutes. Ready to get home and de-clog my arteries."

Tony laughed.

"You good now?"

"Yeah," Tony huffed, contrite. "Sorry. I'll go check on the Timster."

"Wait."

"What?"

"Just want you to know..." Gibbs started before he paused.

His words revisited him, yet again. "I'm on my own now. It's better. Better for everybody." Better for redheads, maybe.

Tony's hair was decidedly not red.

He went ahead and said it, "With you around, I've never really been on my own."

There was silence on the line, and then Tony whispered, "I'll be at your place in the morning."

Gibbs smiled. "See ya there, DiNozzo."