Title- Broken

One-Shot; Complete

Author- PTBvisiongrrl

Date- 06/05/10

Rating – M

Pairings/Characters- Gibbs/Tony friendship, Tony/Jenny Shepherd, mentions Tony/Jeanne

Spoilers- through Season Five, Internal Affairs

Disclaimers- Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…although Gibbs and Tony can frisk me ANYTIME.

Tony pulled up to the curb, searching to see if there was still a light shining from Gibbs's basement. Everyone on the team knew that Gibbs's door was open whenever there was a need, but Tony wasn't sure if this kind of distress counted as a valid reason to invade Gibbs's personal space. Tony certainly didn't want to wake the man for this conversation. If he wasn't still up—in all likelihood, Tony acknowledged he probably was, as the older man barely slept—Tony would go home, have a few shots, and hopefully fall asleep long enough to come in without a hangover tomorrow.

But the dim glow was clearly visible, even from the distance of his parked sedan. Tony steeled himself before taking the steps two at a time and opening the perennially-unlocked front door. He knew the way by heart, even in the dark, cutting through the kitchen to the basement door. He paused again at the top of the basement stairs, well aware of how foolish it would be to rush in and possibly startle the former Marine. Almost as foolish as sneaking up on Ziva, something Tony has yet to successfully accomplish and which he would never willingly admit was the equivalent to tilting at windmills.

He could tell that Gibbs had heard him enter, but Tony waited for permission to descend, watching Gibbs's almost meditative motions against the wooden boat frame. After a few minutes, looking up at Tony but without stopping his work, Gibbs asked, "You need something, DiNozzo?"

DiNozzo shrugged, his characteristic smirk subdued. "Not sure."

Gibbs considered him for a moment, stopping the smooth, practiced planing motion to search out a guest drinking vessel. Settling on an old glass jar, he dumped its screws and bolts into a quick pile, blowing out the dust and pouring in a few fingers of bourbon. Motioning to the jar, he returned to his woodworking.

Tony made his way down, picking up the jar and taking a burning mouthful as he leaned back against a dusty counter top. It took him a few minutes too long to catch his breath for Gibbs's taste, apparently. "What did you say to her before she left NCIS, Tony?" Gibbs asked as Tony let the silence build.

Should he answer? Isn't this what he had come over here for? But beyond determining Gibbs could probably help him out of his internal mire (or at least commiserate?), Tony had not thought through what he was going to say. Answering Gibbs's question seemed the easiest way to start. "I told her it was all a lie."

"Was it?" Gibbs asked in that quietly insistent tone Tony knew well from interrogations.

"No." Tony searched for words. "But I thought that-"

Gibbs finished for him. "That it would be less cruel? Let her think that you are just an ass, that she meant nothing so that she could move on? Make sure you broke her heart enough that you killed any chance of a happy ending for you, too?"

Tony downed some more of the liquor, savoring the slow deadening of his whirlwind mind. "Yeah, I guess so."

"No easy way out of it, DiNozzo," Gibbs paused in his motions. "For either of you."

Another swallow. "I loved her, boss. I never meant for it to happen—"

"No one usually does," Gibbs stated wryly, "but it still happens."

"She fell in love with someone else, some guy I created to catch her interest." DiNozzo slammed the make-shift mug down onto the counter top. "I fell in love with her, though. Her, Jeanne, not a suspect or witness or La Grenouille's daughter. She asked me-" Tony had trouble getting the words out, feeling guilt at not having told Gibbs when the note had first reached him. "She wrote me a letter, asked me to go to her, to give everything up—"

"And when you said no, she tried to frame you for murder." Gibbs shook his head. "For what its worth, I think you made the right decision, staying put."

"Says the man with three ex-wives." Tony slammed back the rest of the bourbon, leaving the glass jar to begin pacing around the boat frame. "Doesn't feel like the right decision about now."

"That why you smell like the Director's perfume?" Gibbs asked without looking at Tony.

"Boss-" Tony had no idea how to reply, how to soften the possible blow—

Gibbs faced Tony in the silence of the broken sentence, eyebrow quirked. "Truth, Tony. I've got no claim on Jen these days. Not sure I ever really did."

Tony sighed and studied his expensive Italian leather loafers. "Yes," he admitted softly, without any bragging or pride in his tone at having caught such a beautiful and intelligent woman.

"Did it help?" Gibbs asked.

"No," Tony reluctantly admitted.

Gibbs left his tools and boat still and faced DiNozzo. "Why not Ziva?"

Tony's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Crazy ninja chick? On top of breaking Rule #12?" Tony laughed hollowly. "I'd rather be Gibbs-slapped into next week than take my life into my hands getting naked with a trained assassin…"

"Ziva scares the shit out of me, sometimes, too," Gibbs acknowledged. "But she's your partner. You trust her—assassin or not."

Tony shook his head. "Yeah, I do. And that's why not her, Gibbs. Ziva has lasted longer as my partner than any woman in my bed. I won't risk that."

"Good call." Nodding, Gibbs looked a little distant for a minute, visibly pulling himself back into the basement workshop. "Jen is the reason for Rule #12."

Tony raised an eyebrow, and Gibbs chuckled, shaking his head. "I always liked redheads, DiNozzo." Gibbs pulled on his own bourbon, splashing some more in to the jar for Tony, too. "But why the hell the Director? Not like you don't have a little black book an inch thick—"

"Jenny—" Tony audibly sighed. "Not something I plan to repeat, boss. I only fuck up once before I learn."

Gibbs nodded, noting the use of her name and not her title, despite Gibbs's own use. "Why Jen, of all the women in the world?"

"It's her fault," Tony stated, misery evident in tone. "I never would have gotten that close, if the Director hadn't ordered me to."

"She ordered you to sleep with Jeanne?" Gibbs asked, the sudden rise in his interest evident; not that he hasn't been paying attention, but this piece of information was important for many reasons.

"Not directly," Tony wondered himself how much of he and Jeanne had been Jenny Shepherd's prodding and how much had simply been because he wanted to. Jenny had been right in that there were worse assignments than sleeping with a beautiful woman; but was it her comment that had made him decide it was worth the risk, or he himself? To be able to play at love, with no real risk—to indulge that deep-down and well ignored desire to have something more than a hot night or two with someone— "Definitely implied, but not a direct order."

"Knowing about Jen's personal history with La Grenouille change your interpretation there?' Gibbs asked knowingly, arms crossed and near empty mug gripped loosely.

"That's why I went to her tonight." Tony though back over the blurred evening. "I needed to know if I am this miserable to satisfy Jenny Shepherd's desire for revenge, or to catch a bad guy."

"Verdict?" Gibbs asked, knowing pretty much what was going to come out of Tony's mouth.

"Jenny Shephard used me," Tony stated bitterly. "No matter how she wants to phrase it, how she wants to try and comfort me that I took a necessary hit for the team, she and I both know, deep down, that I was a cog in her revenge machine."

Gibbs nodded. "So you decided to use her?"

Tony laughed. "Do you really think I hit on her?"

"Nope," Gibbs shook his head. "But nice to have confirmation you aren't as dumb as you sometimes play, though."

"Life would be so much easier if I was, boss," Tony admitted. "Then it would make sense that I loved a woman I should never have felt anything for. I loved her enough that I can't go back to how I was before her, dammit, no matter that I had no right to. There is no appeal to me in a different girl every night of the week anymore. I know what its like to have-"

"Love," Gibbs finished for him. "And now that you had it, and lost it, you want more. There's a reason I've got three ex-wives, Tony." Tossing him a sanding block, Gibbs motioned to a section of the hull near him.

Tony studied the sanding block for a minute before shrugging off his designer jacket and depositing it on a nearby saw horse, carefully folded. Moving over to the boat, Tony raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought it was the bourbon and the boats."

The head slap didn't surprise Tony. "Chicken and the egg, DiNozzo, chicken and the egg."