Emma Ingham rubbed her aching back as she headed out the door of the ICU. It had been a long shift, and her day wasn't over yet. Tonight was the annual Bethesda Christmas Eve carols festival, and as she did every year, she planned to be there to enjoy it. Even if she was alone this year – maybe especially since she was alone this year.
But first she needed coffee. Strong, black and sweet, and preferably laced with brandy. Not that the hospital cafeteria ran to brandy, and she certainly didn't have her own. But the day had been a hard one: Angie, the little girl she'd been specialling in the ICU, hadn't made it. Emma was used to death in her job, but losing a child always hit her hard.
She pushed the thought of Angie to the back of her mind and tried to focus on the evening ahead.
First, though, that coffee, and maybe something to go with it. She had an hour or so before the carols started, long enough to go out and eat, but the thought of facing the icy roads defeated her in her present mood. The hospital cafeteria wasn't much, but it was warm and close at hand. She headed in through the swinging doors.
Picking up a tray, she made her purchases, then looked around for somewhere to sit. The cafeteria was almost empty, its tinsel and baubles and tinny Christmas Muzak somehow underlining the lack of chatter.
Apart from herself there was only a family of four sitting near the door, picking at their food in silence with worry written plain on their faces, and a man sitting with his back to her, staring into a cup of coffee. Something about him seemed familiar, but she couldn't see his face.
Only the hospital could keep them here on Christmas Eve, she thought, only their loved ones upstairs.She wouldn't be there herself if it weren't for the carols festival. David, who'd been there with her for the past two years, had left for Iraq a month ago. She glanced at the diamond on her left hand, wondering what he was doing now.
Emma sat down at a table near the window and took her makeshift meal off her tray. Outside, the snow glinted in the streetlights and the headlights of passing cars.
"Nurse Emma". A man's voice, quiet, somehow familiar. She looked up. The man who'd been sitting alone had risen to leave and was now approaching her table. He smiled at her tentatively and suddenly she knew who he was.
Nurse Emma. You look pretty without that mask, by the way.
"Special Agent DiNozzo!" She smiled back up at him. "Tony! What brings you here on Christmas Eve?"
His smile grew more confident at her response. "Oh, just dropping by".
Someone upstairs, she thought, someone hurt."Nothing serious, I hope?" she asked, instantly serious herself.
"No", he waved his hand, "not at all. Could I … would you mind if I sat with you for a bit? Not if you're on your break, of course, and you want some peace and quiet".
"Please", she gestured him to a chair. "I'm done for the day. I'm a bit disappointed, though, I thought you always used Italian in your chat up routines".
His face clouded momentarily, then the easy smile returned. "Yeah, well, you don't want to believe everything you hear. And this isn't a chat up routine, I'm sorry if you thought I was hitting on you. Not that I wouldn't like to, of course", he added hastily, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it.
"So what are you doing here? No further trouble, I hope?" she asked, to break the momentary silence. She hadn't seen him since his discharge from Bethesda after his bout with Y-Pestis some months earlier. He'd been back to the hospital since then, of course, for his follow-up checks with Dr Pitt, but Emma hadn't been involved.
"No, nothing like that, I'm fine", he smiled. He thought for a moment before he said, "I don't really know why I'm here, I just somehow wanted to come back here tonight. Crazy, I suppose, I usually try to stay away from hospitals". He seemed strangely hesitant, not at all the confident man she remembered.
Emma thought about it for a moment, crumbling her muffin with her fingers as she did. Then she said, "You'll probably laugh at this, but I think I understand. Christmas, it's all about new life, isn't it. Kind of like what happened to you here. You should have died, but you didn't, you got a second chance when nobody expected it. Kate thought for sure … how IS Kate, by the way?" She took a sip of her coffee and made a face.
She and Kate had had a bit of a chat the night the plague hit Tony. Emma had liked the other woman and had always meant to make a coffee date with her some time, but hadn't got around to it.
Silence. Then, "You're right, Emma, I didn't die. She did". The look on his face made her catch her breath. "A few weeks after we were both in here that night".
"Oh, God, no!" Emma set her coffee cup down with a jar. "What happened?"
"Sniper". She could see he didn't want to talk about it. "On a case we were working".
Instinctively she reached out and took his hand. He let her hold it for a moment, then took it back and clasped it with his other one on the tabletop, his eyes fixed on the salt shaker.
Emma swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry, Tony, I really am. I saw the two of you fight a lot that first day, but she cared about you, I know she did. She stayed there for you when she didn't have to, she put herself in danger. Then when she thought you were dying …" Her voice trailed off.
Tony said nothing, just nodded. He seemed too down to respond.
"And she was your partner …" Emma said, "That's got to be hard. It's been a bad year for you then". She leaned across the table towards him, but he didn't respond. He didn't have to, she saw it written on his face: it's been a frigging awful year.
"How did your boss – Agent …Gibbs, was it - take it?"
That got a response. "About like you'd think. He went after the bastard hammer and tongs. Got him in the end, but it wasn't pretty".
"From what I saw of him, I wouldn't want to be on his bad side".
"Oh, believe me", Tony said with total sincerity, "you have no idea". At last he smiled at her.
She smiled back. Then she said softly, "That's why you're here, isn't it? It brings her memory closer".
He started to protest, then shrugged and said, ""It's just … like you said, she stayed with me here, you know? That night". He spilled some sugar on the table and drew circles in it with his finger. "She had big plans for Christmas, the whole shebang. Last Christmas, she ..."A smile played around the corners of his mouth. "She was such a good Catholic girl. I used to tease her about it, she'd get mad".
"You loved her, didn't you", Emma said softly.
"Not in the way you mean. More like a sister. But yeah, I guess … you could say I loved her". He seemed almost surprised by what he'd said.
It was true, she thought, she'd seen it in their banter. Underneath the sniping, the irritation, she'd sensed a strong bond of affection, unacknowledged by either, in words at least.
Tony was speaking again. "I thought … I don't know what I thought, but … something just drew me here tonight. And now I'll be on my way and stop wasting your time with this babble". He started to rise.
She put out her hand to stop him. "Don't go, Tony. It's Christmas Eve. Why don't you stay and go to the carols here with me?"
He looked at the ring on her finger. "Where's he, then?"
"Iraq. For a month now".
Tony nodded. "Lonely, huh? At Christmas".
"Yes", Emma said. "but that's no reason we both should be tonight. About those carols?"
"I don't know", Tony said. "I'm not that big on Christmas".
"Right", Emma said wryly, "that's not why you're here tonight, of course". They both rose, and she took his arm. "Come on, it'll do you good. Can't hurt, anyway".
He didn't protest and she steered him down the walkway to the brightly decorated foyer where choir members were already taking their places next to the big Christmas tree. The seats were filling fast, but they found places near the back.
And just in time. After a few welcoming words from the MC, the opening bars of "Silent Night" filled the air.
She felt the man beside her tense. "God, I hate …"
"What?" she whispered.
"Nothing, I just … I hate this carol, is all".
He hated Silent Night? Then she understood. "It was her favourite, wasn't it".
He nodded. "It's just that it's always a silent night for Kate now".
"Honour her memory, Tony. Sing it for her now".
Emma began to sing. At first haltingly, then strongly, Tony followed her example, his light tenor rising beside her in the gentle cadences. She thought she could see the lines of his face begin to relax a little.
And as their voices joined in the words of the beautiful old carol, she found herself praying that for the first time in many months, like the snow drifting down outside, peace would settle like a mantle on his soul.