A/N: Thanks to Bunny for the beta!
It had all seemed like a big laugh to Tony's team to witness the car of his dreams, his car, disintegrate into a million pieces in front of their eyes—on national television, no less. He had tried all day long to track it down, with absolutely no help, or even sympathy, from his teammates and especially his boss.
Throughout Tony's life, because of his name and his upbringing, pretty much everyone assumed he'd been given access to anything he could need or want, without having to lift a finger. People assumed that all he needed to do was go ask dear old dad for whatever crossed his mind, and his wish would be granted.
"Sure, Junior, here's fifty grand, and while you're out, why don't you grab yourself an airline ticket to Panama City to round out your weekend?"
As if!
Because whatever Tony wanted after he got ungratefully and unceremoniously shipped off to military school had to be gotten by his own blood, sweat, and tears, and sometimes, wheeling and dealing and old fashioned horse-trading. He was good at that, could sweet-talk just about anybody out of anything if he wanted it badly enough. Except he wasn't allowed to have much in his dorm at the academy, so more often than not, he planned in his head the things he would have for himself when he got out of that god-forsaken place and could do what he wanted to do, have what he wanted to have. And at the top of the list was a Corvette.
With graduation behind him, Tony chose a college—against his father's wishes of course—and set out on a life that presented a whole new world for him…frat houses, drinking parties, and wild, wild women. Only, Tony was a still a little shy around the women, and he really couldn't handle his liquor, even though he made valiant attempts to party like an animal. Which was just as well, because Tony needed to have that Corvette, and the only way he would have it would be to get a job along with his college studies. That didn't leave much time for crazy weekends with his frat buddies.
By the time he was a junior, he'd finally saved enough for a down-payment and talked a bank loan officer into financing the rest for him. He drove out of the showroom with that car of his dreams and heart full of pride knowing that he had truly worked for and deserved that car, in spite of everyone's doubt and derision.
Even his frat buddies and college friends who had sweet cars of their own were jealous of him, partly because they knew the odds he had beaten to save for it and keep up his studies and his team responsibilities.
It was the first thing in his life that he had that he could truly call his own, with hisname on the title, and that car meant the world to him. A lot more than just a chick magnet or an extension of his manhood, as Kate and her ilk would allude to.
To have some low-life steal it, and then have to watch it being demolished was beyond bad. But the fact that his team mates had been teasing him, laughing at him as if he somehow had deserved it...even Gibbs had smiled smugly, lecturing him about driving a car made of fiberglass, which made Tony want to go vomit his lunch in the men's room and stay there until he could retire. Gibbs of all people should have understood...Tony knew the man quietly admired classic roadsters and hotrod sports cars.
He was quiet the rest of the day as the team wrapped up the case and its paperwork, and Kate belatedly tried to offer her regrets for his loss by running out to his favorite bakery and bringing him back sticky buns and coffee. He smiled lamely at her, not even able to fake his trademark grin. And she knew then that she had tread heavily where his feelings were concerned, that what seemed fitting and humorous at the time had actually been hurtful and unkind. She just never thought of him as letting anything go too deeply, everything was just a joke to him anyways. But his Corvette...the one thing he talked about that he adored more than his movies...smashed to smithereens.
They packed up and closed the bullpen down at around 1700, all going home for a few days off rotation, and a disturbingly quiet DiNozzo rode down with them to the parking garage.
"C'mon, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered quietly, herding his SFA towards his own car. He knew the younger man had only just fully realized the totality of his totaled car. He was car-less for who knew how long…however long it took for the local LEOs and insurance adjusters and who the hell knew who else to decide who was at fault and who was going to fork over the money for Tony to buy another car. A car he didn't want. He wanted his 'vette. The one for which he'd worked early mornings and late nights and any hour he wasn't studying or involved with his sports. The one he had so proudly driven away from that classic car showroom, so overwhelmed with what he had accomplished that he was nearly in tears.
Tony really was in a bit of a shocked daze and Gibbs had to steer him towards the passenger side of the car, wondering if he needed to open the door for him, too. This was so not good. Gibbs eyed his second wearily. What the hell was he going to do for him? He couldn't piece together a car that was literally in splinters all over the interstate. Once Gibbs had really thought about what had happened to Tony's car and how the loss of it might actually affect him, he'd felt bad about not taking the incident more seriously. Now he had a situation on his hands that he was unable to fix.
He pulled out of the parking garage at a more reasonable pace than usual, his mind half on trying to figure out how to help his best agent, and half on wondering why the loss of the 'vette was so mind-bending to his usually undaunted friend.
"You not have any insurance on the 'vette, DiNozzo?"
"What, Boss? Oh, uh, yeah, sure, top dollar, paid in full."
"Then what's the problem, there's lots of classic 'vettes out there, just take the insurance money and buy another one!"
"Yeah," Tony answered flatly, staring out the window now. "Sure."
Gibbs had had enough, and yanked the car off to the side of the road, earning him a blaring horn from the car behind them.
"Then what the hell is the problem, DiNozzo? You don't think you can stand to carpool to work with me till you get another car?"
"I think that everyone just assumes that that car was some graduation or Christmas or birthday present from my old man, so what the hell is the big deal with me being so possessed with it, like it's the only car in the world?"
"So? What about it?" Gibbs barked impatiently. "What's the big deal with it?"
"The 'big deal' with it, is that it wasn't a gift, not from my old man or anyone else. I worked all through college to save enough to pay for that car. It was the only thing I had to call my own except the clothes on my back. I left Rhode Island Military Academy with nothing, nothing, Boss. Dumped my uniform, my medals, my boots, any damned thing associated with that place, in the nearest dumpster the day I left that place. Went straight to work at a golf course, mowing greens, trimming hedges. I started college that fall, worked in the campus bookstore, mowed lawns, anything I could get in between classes and sports. Junior year, I had enough for a good down payment, sweet-talked the bank into giving me a-"
"I got it, Tony," Gibbs sighed with annoyance. Tony could hear it, and immediately apologized.
"Sorry, Boss," he mumbled quietly. "You asked me and -"
"Not mad atcha, DiNozzo. Mad at myself and everyone else for assuming yer Dad or rich Aunt bought it for you as a graduation gift."
"Didn't get any graduation gifts, Boss," Tony added, barely audible this time. "Not for the academy or for college. Wasn't …I wasn't on my family's radar anymore by then."
Gibbs wanted to ask the young man if he'd ever been on his family's radar, but bit his tongue. That sure wasn't a can of worms either one of them needed to open, not without a bunch of liquor under their belts. Instead, he sighed again and looked out the window. Really, what did you say to that to a person you'd inadvertently and surreptitiously come to care for like your own kid?
Tony heard him loud and clear.
"Can we just …get going and take me home. I gotta make some phone calls yet."
"Got an errand I gotta run first, it won't take long. Then I'll take ya home."
"Yeah. Sure," Tony answered. As if he had any choice in the matter. He went back to scenery-gazing as Gibbs tore off at his usual unnerving speed this time.
They had driven long enough now that Tony was starting to get antsy, wondering where the hell this 'won't take too long' errand was. But he certainly didn't feel as if he had any place complaining about the ride unless he didn't mind being shoved out the passenger door with a size 12 boot print on his butt. And he just wasn't in the mood for that tonight.
Tony looked up from nervously rubbing his hands to see a car lot, filled with classic beauties in all makes, models, and years. His stomach jolted a bit, thinking of being able to look but not touch any of them, as he had absolutely no idea when or if he'd get full value of his 'vette back in insurance money.
"Boss, I - I'm not ready for this, I - I don't have-"
"Git outta the car, Tony. Didn't drive all this way to have you sit there and pout."
Pout? Was he actually pouting? And even if he was, didn't he have a license to do it?
"Getting out of the car, Boss," he grumbled, and stopped himself just in time from slamming the door in a tantrum.
"Not sure if there's any 'vettes here like yours. Ya ever think of any other ones ya like besides 'vettes? An old Challenger maybe, or T-Bird?"
"Yeah, I like T-Birds. Camaros, too. Also pretty fond of Mustangs."
"Mmm, yeah, a 'stang, he's got some of them."
"Who's he, Boss?"
"Buddy of mine from the Corps, took his mustering out pay and bought into this classic car dealership when he retired. Lets me come here and try them out, we go for a burger and shoot the shit, he writes it off. Go on, go wander around, I'll go see who's here tonight."
"But Boss, I can't buy anything, I'll be wasting their time!"
"You see this place crawlin' with customers, DiNozzo? Go browse, don't worry about it."
Tony huffed, but did as he was told, and soon found himself up to his eyeballs in the sweet wheels, wondering, if he could choose one, which one would he take home?
Then his eyes lit on a Ford at the end of the lot. A 1966 green Mustang. He could almost - almost -forget his sorrow over losing his Corvette as he ogled the beauty. He walked round and round it, stared into the windows, marveling at the mint condition of the interior, and imagining himself driving it.
A strange voice came from behind him and startled him out of his reverie.
"She's a beauty, isn't she? Had only one owner. Kept a record book of everything he had done to it. Passed it on to his daughter, who wanted a VW Beetle, and traded it in. Guy's probably still spinnin' in his grave from it. I'll go getcha the keys, letcha take Leroy for a burger at the charbroil down the road. Make him pay, I heard ya had a rough day."
Tony grinned in spite of himself. He liked this guy. Called his boss 'Leroy'. Told him to make 'Leroy' pay for his dinner. Was letting him drive this dreamboat car to go get a burger and fries. Life was good, if only for an hour or two. The man was back with the key in less than five minutes, with Gibbs in tow, who, it so happened, was checking the cash in his wallet on the way. Tony took the key, unlocked the doors, and waited for his boss to get in and his new friend to slap the dealer plate on the Ford, and put the car through its paces on the open and nearly deserted road.
"Good choice, DiNozzo. He'll give you a good deal on anything on his lot, and then take care of ya for as long as you have one of his cars. Got a triple-A rating from the Better Business Bureau. Bunch of dealership awards. Likes to know his babies are in good hands when he parts with them, not just a money-making thing for him."
"Did you tell 'im I have no idea when or how much I'm getting anything for the 'vette settlement? I mean, they're probably still cleaning the thing off the pavement as we speak."
"He knows. Told him all the grisly details. He'll let ya try it out for a while before ya buy it, so long as you sign some insurance papers beforehand."
"I - I got a little saved up, but - not enough for a down-payment, I don't think, not on this, anyways."
"Well, kid, you wheeled and dealed your way to your 'vette -"
"And worked my ass off for -"
"And worked your ass off. I'm thinkin' you can come up with some sort of agreement with Ken. He appreciates a guy that appreciates his stock. Like I say, it's not all about the money with him. He likes seeing his cars being driven, not sitting on the lot rusting. Tell 'im what you've got to work with. I explained the situation with your 'vette, think I even saw a few tears in his eyes when I was done, but it might've been allergies. Charbroil's comin' up on your right up here, slow down a little or you'll miss it."
Tony shifted down, enjoying the thrum of the transmission as it geared down smoothly and quietly. The car ran like a thoroughbred.
He slid into the parking lot, and Gibbs couldn't help but smile at the look of pure joy on the younger man's face. What had seemed like an insurmountable problem a couple of hours ago was fast turning into a happy solution.
He had learned something important and surprising about his SFA, and also a lesson about breaking one of his own rules and assuming what the masses did: that Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. was a spoiled and privileged kid who didn't know the meaning of having to earn anything, and that everything had been handed to him for the asking. How wrong he had been on that count.
He couldn't help but wonder what else the younger man could surprise him with, but suspected it would be awhile before he learned anything new about Tony's unhappy and obviously misunderstood past. He could wait, though. His SFA's admittance to not getting any graduation presents from either academy or college didn't sit well with him, and he could only imagine the dysfunction and acrimony that would have been happening within the DiNozzo family to cause that sort of neglect. Again, something better digested with shots of bourbon rather than burgers and root beer.
Tony remained sitting in the car even after he shut it off, and Gibbs looked over at him in puzzlement.
"Thought you'd be starving, DiNozzo. And I'm paying, so I figured you'd be even hungrier from that."
"I…I wanted to thank you for…you know, taking the time to bring me to Ken's and helping me out with my problem. You didn't have to; it's not work-related."
"No, it's not, as I had to remind you so many times over the course of the day. But it was something I could help fix once I put my mind to it, and now I know why the 'vette meant so much to you. Had to try to do something."
"So ya think this is the one, Boss? Cause I think I could really get attached to this baby, and really, the down payment would be money I saved from work, so it's sort déjà vu all over again, isn't it?"
"Yup, it is. C'mon, let's go get some chow, then we'll go see what kind of deal you can rope Ken into. And you don't need to tell Kate or McGee I helped ya on this, it's none of their business."
"Nope, yer right, Boss, it isn't. Especially since they thought it was a bit of a joke seein' my baby turned into a pile of crap in front of my very eyes."
"Yup. I didn't exactly discourage 'em, either, so part of that's my fault. Ya gotta admit, it was pretty spectacular footage, and the idiot walked away from it. Better him than you, Tony. Come on, they got an Angus burger that'll make ya forget all about it for awhile. Then we'll go get ya your new one. Just try not to let anything spectacular happen to this one."
"Oh, don't worry, Boss, those things are solid, you know that. It'd take a bomb to demolish one of them! And I'm not planning on letting one of them anywhere near my baby!"