Author's Note: This story was written for Penumbria_fics as part of the NCIS Ficathon for June 2015. Her specific prompt was - Tony was in a relationship with Chris Pacci but they were not out. His actions with Voss/Reed were overcompensation to hide his grief. Explore how he reacts to Kate's taunts about tonguing a guy, does he think she is homophobic, does he lose his temper and come out, does he talk to anyone about what he has been going through?
Lovers and Friends
Tony DiNozzo emerged from the stairwell in his apartment building and slowly made his way along the hallway to his front door. He felt weary to his very core and just putting one foot in front of the other was taking all of his remaining energy. He'd tried to use the elevator, (after all, that's what any sane person would do after working to solve their latest case for too many hours with too little sleep - right?), but as soon as the doors had opened down in the lobby he'd known he couldn't step inside: images of death, of a body covered in blood with its stomach ripped open and intestines snaking all over the floor had crowded into his mind and the memory of an overwhelmingly cloying smell had meant he'd baulked at the idea of being trapped in the enclosed space. He'd known it was his brain playing tricks on him, he really did, yet it had felt real enough to cause his stomach to rebel and had set his feet heading for the stairs.
By the time Tony reached his apartment all he wanted to do was kick off his shoes, flop onto the bed and lose himself in blissful oblivion. Unfortunately, his body had other ideas and the simple task of putting his key into the lock was proving impossible as his hand-eye coordination failed him. He let out an angry growl and banged his head forcefully against the door in frustration.
"Hey there Tony, we haven't seen you in a while," a quiet voice behind him said. "Are you alright son?"
Tony took a shuddering breath and pasted on the best attempt at a smile he could muster before turning around to face his concerned neighbour.
"Oh hi Mr Bledsoe, sorry I bothered you," Tony apologised. "I've been staying with a friend, but sometimes you really just wanna sleep in your own bed, you know?" He gave a tired sigh and his shoulders slumped as he realised he simply didn't have the energy to keep up the pretence. "Had a bad few days at the office and now I can't even get my door open," he admitted.
"Is the lock busted? Do you want me to call the building supervisor?"
"No, that's okay. I think I might need to get my eyes checked," Tony replied with a tired shrug. "Can't seem to focus to get the damned key in the lock."
"Here, let me try," Mr Bledsoe offered as he stepped closer to the door. Tony was usually such an upbeat young man and yet now he looked like a stiff wind would blow him over and, as he nodded his head in thanks and held out the key, his hand was shaking from the effort.
Jeb Bledsoe had been a Metro cop back in the day and he could recognise the kind of burnout Tony was experiencing. Having said that, he also knew enough not to draw attention to it. He slid the key into the lock with ease and pushed the door open before saying, "There ya go, Tony. Get some sleep. I'm sure you'll feel much better in the morning. Pearl and I are right next door if you need anything, you know that."
Tony dragged a genuine smile from somewhere and nodded his head again. "Thanks Mr Bledsoe. I just need a little downtime and I'll be fine."
"I don't doubt it kid," Jeb assured him as he handed back the key and made sure the door was closed and secure before he turned to leave.
Once in his apartment the idea of going to bed alone suddenly lost its appeal and, on impulse, Tony made a detour to the kitchen to grab his bottle of McCallan 18 and a glass before he headed back into the living area. He practically threw himself into his recliner and poured a generous measure of scotch. The temptation to chug it straight back and keep on drinking until he fell into an alcohol induced stupor was very appealing but he'd been there and done that and the memories he was trying to blot out would still be there in the morning. Instead, he took a sip and let the smooth amber liquid slide down his throat and warm his stomach as he tried to focus on happier times.
Tony had met Chris Pacci on his first day at NCIS and had liked him immediately. The older agent had been TAD on Gibbs' team following Stan Burley's transfer to become an agent afloat and his easygoing attitude and dry sense of humour had helped diffuse any number of disputes that arose due to Gibbs' uncompromising approach to law enforcement. He'd also offered Tony invaluable help in getting to grips with the new rules and regulations he'd had to learn to pass classes at FLETC, when Gibbs seemed to prefer the leave 'em to sink or swim approach.
On the day he'd returned to his old team, Chris had presented Tony with a gift wrapped box of Tums and wished him luck, although they had continued their friendship both in and out of the office. There'd been practical jokes and drinks after work, then softball games and pick-up basketball down at the Y on the weekends. After that had come movie nights and hanging out whenever their schedules coincided and over time, they'd become more than friends, although they'd both agreed to keep it casual and keep it to themselves.
Things had always been easy with Chris and after the whole fiasco with his ex-fiancée, Wendy, had left him hurting and leery of commitment, that's just what Tony had needed at the time. Then, just when Tony had begun to entertain the idea that they might be ready to get more serious and come out at work, Gibbs had walked into the squad room with a grim expression on his face and had dropped his bombshell that Chris had been murdered.
Such a sudden and violent death had affected everyone at NCIS, even those who hadn't known him very well. Gibbs had worked with Chris the longest and he'd reacted the way he always did when someone he cared about was hurt – he'd switched into uber-Gibbs mode and had become even more demanding and focussed than usual. As the newest member of the team, Kate had simply known Chris as the guy who sat behind her in the squad room and although she'd been as shocked and appalled as anyone else, it hadn't really touched her on a personal level.
Tony on the other hand had been totally blind-sided by the news and had been left floundering as to how to deal with the situation and how to act around the others. He'd had no-one to confide in and in hindsight, it might have been easier if their relationship had been common knowledge: but then again, the only thing that had kept him halfway sane had been working to find Chris' killer and that wouldn't have been allowed if anyone had known about their involvement.
The stakeout of Amanda Reed's apartment had also been both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it had given him the perfect excuse not to attend Chris' funeral without questions being asked; on the other, it had left him in a confining situation where there'd been very little to distract him from his own thoughts - and that had been torture. Even losing concentration for a split second had allowed random images from the crime scene to pop into his mind and they'd threatened to shatter his fragile facade of normality.
In the end, the inactivity had been his worst enemy and he'd been left with an almost manic need to get out of the rented apartment to find a distraction and Amanda Reed's sudden appearance on the front doorstep of her building had been too good an opportunity to miss. Tony had jumped at the chance to see if he could finesse some information out of her and had been across the road before he'd thought his actions through. Ultimately, that decision had led him to the bar where he'd received Gibbs' call revealing Amanda Reed's true identity and he'd had to face the appalling truth that he'd been making out with his lover's killer. Tony had felt his actions had been a betrayal of the man he'd cared so much about and to make matters worse, Voss/Reed had seemed more concerned with choosing new paint for the front door and trim than suffering any ill-effects from taking the life of a good man.
Still, it wasn't until later when they'd got back to NCIS that Kate's goading comment about tonguing a guy had had him rushing from the room before he broke down in front of all of them. If she'd known the real reason for his distress, he knew she would have been mortified and would have rushed to comfort him, even though he'd always preferred to slink away and lick his wounds in private – just like tonight.
It had barely been a year since Chris had died and things had changed for Tony in a way he never could have predicted and yet, once again, his happiness had been blighted by murder. Ari Haswari had returned to Washington DC to continue his twisted game with Gibbs and now Kate was dead, all because she shared a name with a stupid sniper rifle for crissakes! Tony had been right there next to her and there hadn't been a thing he could've done about it. One minute they'd been smiling and joking and the next, Kate had been gone and the sight and the smell of her blood and brain matter splashing across his face had conjured up such strong memories of Chris' death that it had set him off on this trip back in time.
Tony sighed and settled back into his recliner. He would spend tonight alone with his memories and lick his wounds and he knew Gibbs would respect that, but come tomorrow he also knew the man would be there bright and early to collect his lover of six months and they would start to pack his things for a permanent move to a house he already considered home.
The End
