Wire-Tap

Tony dropped his stuff at his desk then took the stairs two at a time up to the mezzanine, heading for the director's office. It sucked. This was the first weekend in weeks that the team hadn't been on call or working on an ongoing investigation that sucked down all available time. But, free Saturday or no, when the agency director summoned, he went.

He wasn't sure what possible reason Director Vance could have for calling him in but he arrived at the office door and knocked anyway. He'd find out soon enough. Maybe the man had decided to can him when Gibbs wasn't around to object and when Tony would have plenty of time to clear out his desk with no one watching. Tony wouldn't put it past him.

"Come in."

Tony entered the office soberly, keeping his air dignified. It wasn't a time for high jinks, and Vance didn't appreciate them anyway. The director was standing at the windows, looking out. Tony stopped just inside the door. "You sent for me, Director?"

"Have a seat, Agent DiNozzo," Vance said without turning, and Tony followed the instructions, wondering what the hell was going on. "I understand you received a call from your father recently, asking you to come home for an extended visit."

Tony blinked. He'd gotten the call a week ago, at home, and he hadn't mentioned it to anyone. "Yes, but how –"

"Your father's phones have evidently been tapped by the FBI for some time," Vance said, interrupting him. He turned around. "I am assured that yours are not, but nevertheless, that call was recorded, as was your answer."

Tony shrugged. Vance was scrutinizing him openly, clearly wondering why the news that his father was being investigated by the FBI didn't seem to surprise him. "My relationship with my father has no bearing on my work for this agency," Tony said.

"I'm not so sure about that," Vance replied, and Tony stiffened. What did he mean? "Anthony Leonard DiNozzo, Jr. has no connection to the marines or to the navy. While he does business overseas, none of it falls into the purview of the military in any way." Tony nodded, beginning to think he saw where Vance was going, and not sure he liked it. "Which means two things. One, you could never be accused of a conflict of interests." Vance paused, but Tony didn't respond. The director tilted his head, gazing briefly at Tony with curiosity naked in his expression. "Two, you would never be called upon to investigate your father, thus your knowledge of his business and personal affairs should never come up directly in any case you work, enabling you to avoid being involved in any case that might damage his interests." Again, Vance waited for a response, but Tony just gazed stonily back at him. "It seems to me, Agent DiNozzo, that your relationship with your father could have a great deal to do with your decision to work for this agency rather than any other."

Tony blinked at him, considering his words carefully. "My decision to work for this agency rather than another was driven by one factor only, sir," he said.

"And what is that motive, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Agent Gibbs offered me a job," Tony replied.

Vance nodded slowly, then turned back towards the window. "Before coming to NCIS, you worked for three different police departments, Peoria, Illinois; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; and Baltimore, Maryland."

"Yes sir," Tony said, wondering why Vance was telling him his own work history.

"And your father has no business interests in any of those three cities."

Tony's lips tightened. "He also has no business interests in Phoenix, Arizona or Billings, Montana, but I've never applied to agencies in those cities. I did apply to the NYPD, LAPD and the Chicago Police."

"But you weren't even interviewed by the New York Police."

"I remember," Tony said, controlling the anger that burned deep in his gut. What purpose was served by going through all this? What did Vance want?

"Do you know why that was?" the director asked.

Tony took a deep breath. "Director Vance, is there a point to this trip down memory lane?"

"There is," Vance replied, but he didn't address the obvious corollary to the question. Instead, he pursued his own question indefatigably. "Do you know why you were not interviewed for the New York Police Department?"

Tony let out an irritated sigh. "According to friends in the department, my father put pressure on people in Human Resources to lose my application," he said. "I don't know if it's true, and it doesn't mean anything, anyway. I was a Phys Ed major with almost no experience."

"That's true enough," Vance said. "Nevertheless, one might think that a man involved in criminal enterprises would welcome a son on his local police force."

"One might, if one didn't know my father," Tony said, aware that a strict interpretation of his words might construe that he had just admitted to his father's criminal involvements. "Sir, may I ask why you want to know all of this?"

"What do you mean? Why didn't your father want you working for the police in New York?"

"My father didn't want me working for the police anywhere," Tony replied. "He thinks that working in law enforcement is beneath a DiNozzo. He didn't have any influence in Peoria, and it never occurred to him that I would apply there."

As Vance had spoken to him, he had gradually drawn closer till he was standing directly behind his desk. Now he turned around again and returned to the window. Tony waited impatiently for the other shoe to drop. Director Vance hadn't called him in here to discuss his antecedents, and it didn't feel like a prelude to being let go.

Finally, Vance spoke again, still facing the window. "I have been approached by the FBI to find out if you would be willing to go undercover in your father's organization."

Tony blinked. "Why?" he asked.

"Apparently the FBI has some confidence in your abilities," Vance said, the clear implication being that Vance himself did not. Since Tony had gotten that impression ever since his first meeting the man, this came as no surprise.

"That isn't what I meant," Tony said. "What do they want me to accomplish?"

"Agent Baker was a little vague on operational details," Vance said. "It would require you to be on a detached assignment with the FBI."

Tony shook his head. "No," he said simply.

"I beg your pardon, Agent DiNozzo?" Vance said.

"No, I won't go undercover in my father's organization," Tony said.

Vance sat down and gazed at Tony for a long moment. "You don't seem surprised that your father's being investigated," he said.

Tony shrugged. "Should I be?"

"I think most people would be." Tony took a deep breath and shrugged again. "You're a law enforcement official. If you think it's possible that your father's engaging in illegal activity, isn't it your responsibility to find out and do something about it?"

Tony met his eyes levelly. "So, you think I should go back to New York and convince my father that I've thought better of my life's work, and go to work for him in his business, doing things I have no training for."

"That's what the FBI want you to do." Vance raised his eyebrows. "They seemed to think it wouldn't take much effort to convince you."

"Did they play you the call?" Tony asked, tilting his head.

"I'm not part of the investigation," Vance replied.

"That doesn't answer my question," Tony said, greatly daring.

Vance shrugged. "They offered to. I didn't think it was any of my business."

Tony's lips twitched. "Interesting," he said. "Well, let's just say that I wouldn't be very persuasive as the prodigal son."

"Is that your real reason?"

"It's a real reason," Tony said. "There are more." Vance waited, and Tony glowered at him. "Not liking or trusting my father does not make me more inclined to betray him, especially not to set out to gain his trust and then betray it."

"If you thought your father was responsible for a murder, you –"

"If I thought that, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Tony said. "But I don't. My father may be many things, but he's not a murderer."

Vance considered him for a long moment, then bent to some papers on his desk. "So, I'll tell the FBI that you're not interested."

Tony nodded. "Thanks," he said, not sure what that meant for this meeting. He considered rising, but didn't.

"Please don't mention this conversation to anyone. That will be all."

It was a clear and definite dismissal. Tony rose and went to the door. He glanced back and found the director looking at him thoughtfully, his expression difficult to read. He nodded again and left the room, carefully closing the door behind him, glad to be out of the stifling environment the director's office had come to exude.

Vance was his third director. First there had been Morrow, very hands off, very distant. If Morrow had called him in for a meeting like that one, he would have called Gibbs in, too, and Tony wouldn't have had to refuse. Gibbs would have done it for him. Then Jenny. Tony's lips twisted in reaction to that thought. She had taken such a flattering interest in his abilities and his career after Gibbs had gone. It had taken him until well after Gibbs got back to recognize that he was just a suitably subordinate Gibbs substitute. If Jenny had called that meeting . . . after Jeanne, Jenny wouldn't even have tried. He was pretty sure of that. Tony scooped up his gear and headed towards the elevator.

Now there was Vance, who doted on McGee and thought Tony was of no use whatsoever. He had some use for Gibbs, but he clearly didn't recognize real quality when he saw it unless it fell into very rigid patterns. McGee had the right qualifications, Tony and Gibbs didn't. Ziva didn't either, but she was politically useful which made up for that lack.

They hadn't had Jen two years before Tony had begun to wish wholeheartedly for Morrow to come back, and Vance was even worse.

He stood against the back wall of the elevator and contemplated the expression that had been on Vance's face when he left the room. He'd never seen it before, and it was unsettling to be uncertain what the man was thinking. Abruptly, it came to him suddenly what it had been. Respect. Grudging and unwilling, but nevertheless respect.

Tony straightened his shoulders and left the building, ready to resume his interrupted weekend with a lightened heart.

His cell phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the ID. NCIS. Blinking, he opened the phone. "DiNozzo."

"Two seamen are dead in MacArthur Park," Casey from dispatch said. Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Casey spoke first, short-circuiting his question. "And your team is the only one not already on a case."

The elevator doors opened and Tony hit the button for the squad room again. He got the particulars of the case from Casey, hung up and called Gibbs. No rest for the wicked, he thought with a wry little grin.

Author's Note: I don't often write short pieces, and I have a sneaking suspicion that this one is not destined to remain short. Nevertheless, it is reasonably complete and leaves no obvious dangling ends, so I thought I'd post it. If I ever do write more, I'll simply change its status back to In-Progress and begin posting.