Title: Put Your Hand on a hot stove
Rating: T
Warnings: A few swear words, including an 'f' word
Spoilers: 4.03 Singled Out
Author's Notes: Huge thank you to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain and Kate98 for betaing. Written for the 'relativity' challenge at ncis flashfic on Live Journal.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not being paid.
"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity." – Albert Einstein
It was almost worth it. Or at least, that's what he was intently trying to make his team believe.
So, yeah, he'd been held hostage by a man who was so far off with the pixies that he wasn't even in this solar system, and he'd been slashed across the chest – which still hurt like a bitch – but it was all okay now, because the mother of a child who had also been held hostage was falling all over him. She was big busted, blonde, everything that they'd think he'd find perfect. He could already see the disgust in Ziva's eyes as he smiled back at the woman.
Who wasn't over with her daughter, comforting her while she was being checked out by the paramedics.
Instead, she was fawning all over the federal agent who hadn't done anything to end the hostage situation, who had managed to stupidly get himself slashed across the chest, who would much rather that the woman acted like the mother she was meant to be and stayed with her child. What the hell was her eight year old doing wandering around the mall by herself, anyway?
Nothing turned Tony off faster than a mother who didn't give a shit about her child. He'd have thought that his team would have realised by now that he wasn't that shallow, but they hadn't. They expected him to be in to it, so he was. Tony DiNozzo had a reputation to maintain, after all. And, if he wasn't hitting on the woman, then there was something wrong with him, and they couldn't have that. No, there was never anything wrong with Tony. He'd been demoted without so much as a 'thanks for the great job you did after I quit,' his team leader was one sandwich short of a picnic, he'd turned down a move that could have made his career, and his teammates didn't think he was worth anything. He was fanfuckingtastic.
He was hurting, he just wanted the bitch's hand off his, but he smiled and laughed at something she said with an incredibly vapid look on her face. Her daughter called out to her and she finally seemed to realise that there was someone else in the world that was more important than the man whose number she was trying to get. He stalled, and she left without it. He felt relief. It had felt like hours instead of the brief few minutes it had been. He could see the "nice, Tony" in McGee's eyes and the condemnation in Ziva's. Tony DiNozzo didn't date women with kids.
He couldn't see anything in Gibbs' eyes and that scared him. A year ago he'd have seen understanding. Understanding that Tony wasn't quite that shallow, that he was hurting and he wasn't all right.
A year ago, Tony wouldn't have seen it. Oh, it would have been there, but he'd have seen condemnation that he hadn't been quick enough, disgust at Tony's habits, at a man who wasn't living up to his potential. It wasn't until he saw nothing in Gibbs' eyes that he realised how wrong he'd been and how much he missed it.
Gibbs wasn't right and Tony wasn't sure whether he'd ever be again. They all saw it, but nobody would call him on it. Tony just hoped that it didn't mean the difference between life and death for one of the team. He was prepared for it to be him, if need be, but there was no way in hell that he was going to let something happen to one of the others because Gibbs would rather be somewhere and someone else. That was one reason that he couldn't leave. Gibbs was in charge again, but it was still Tony's team and he'd do anything to protect them, even if it was from the man who was meant to be looking out for them. Tony had wanted Gibbs back, but now he wished Gibbs wasn't.
Tony wasn't right, either, but nobody saw.
Tony had finally grown up, but nobody cared.