Eugh, I know, I've re uploaded this too many times! Sorry about that. Let's just say my internet and I have been having some disagreements. But it should be all cleared up now, so I swear, this is the last time. A few people asked me to continue this but I'm not sure I will, I personally think it works better as a stand alone story, sorry. But I dunno, maybe if enough people think I could add more to it I might try and figure something out.
If anyone reading Iced Shell or Family Lies reads this, I promise I'm working on those stories and will be updating them soon :)
Sawdust filled the air as Gibbs worked away at his latest project down in the basement. It was a boat just like all the others, except it wasn't - after all, Gibbs made every boat unique. It was to fit the one it was named after. The Kelly had been small and delicate but its beauty had outmatched the rest.
Or, it had until Abby had to cut into pieces. Gibbs had done his best not to care. It had been for the right reasons, and the investigation was needed to save Mike Franks' life. But it still hurt to find the remains of his boat later on. Abby had promised to put it back together, and Gibbs didn't doubt her ability to. But he told her not to worry. It just meant he could make another one, a better one, to remember Kelly by.
That wasn't this boat though. He already knew what name he'd be putting on the stern and had the stencil ready, laid out on his work bench. But right now Gibbs' time was devoted to sanding it down, finding the blemishes and softly degrading them. This boat, like the name soon to go on it, was meticulous and feminine, but had strength you couldn't really see from the outside.
Gibbs' mind had finally reached a settled lull, brought on by the familiar feel of the wood under his manual sander, when the silence was jolted by the ring of his phone. It was nights like these he wanted to get out a jar of paint thinner to drop the phone in for disturbing the peace, but he (almost) always fought the urge. Rule Three would always win out over the desire to be left alone.
Pulling out his still ringing phone, holding it at arms length to read the glowing numbers, he absently noted it was one in the morning, and wondered what kind of case he could be getting so late. Perhaps an important security officer with vital information had gone missing, or the body of a high profile commander had been found. He answered the phone with the usual "Yeah, Gibbs," and waited to hear what mess he'd be dragging his team into this time.
"Grab your gear."
Gibbs narrowed his eyes in confusion. "DiNozzo?"
"Heyyy Boss! Sorry but I've always wanted to say that you." There was a laugh at the other end of the line.
Gibbs leaned against the boat and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was too old for this. "You drunk DiNozzo?"
"Hey. Boss." Tony's voice turned serious, though still slurred on the occasional word. "I've told you before. I would never drink on a school night."
Gibbs sighed. "It's not a school night, Tony."
"Oh. Well then, yes."
"What the hell are you doing calling me?" asked Gibbs, torn between frustrated and amused.
There was a hesitant silence at the other end, filled only by Tony's heavy breathing. "Ummm… I kind of need a lift home. I tried walking, but then I forgot which way was east and got all confused…" Tony's voice drifted back to silence.
"And there are no cabs at the bar?"
"Well yeah, but…" Tony paused, finding his words. "For some reason they wouldn't take me. I tried flashing my badge, but apparently I left it at home." There was another short silence, and when Tony spoke again, he suddenly sounded much more sober. "I could really use your help, Boss."
There was a twitch in Gibbs' gut and he wondered if it really was just a ride home that Tony needed. "Alright, where are you?" he asked exasperatedly.
"Ummm… Hang on a sec," there was some shuffling and a thud before Gibbs just managed to make out Tony asking someone passing by what bar it was.
Damn Tony, how drunk are you? Gibbs wondered. Tony always made a point to never drink too much. It was a kind of paranoia with him, one that Gibbs actually admired; you never knew when someone else needed you sober. Gibbs had a feeling Tony had learnt that growing up with his dad, thought the senior field agent had never admitted to it.
"Boss?!" The voice was back and Tony was yelling into the reciever.
"Tony, lower your voice."
"Oh, right. Boss?" The second part came out as a whisper, causing Gibbs to roll his eyes.
"Yeah."
"I'm at McClaren's Pub," his whisper was followed by a snicker. "Can't believe I'm at an Irish bar," he muttered, almost to himself.
Gibbs was relieved to realise he actually knew the place Tony was talking about, so it wouldn't be as difficult to find him. Then again, this was DiNozzo he was talking about. Knowing him he'd probably manage to get kidnapped or stabbed by the time Gibbs got there. "Alright, I'll be right there," he said with a shake of his head.
"Thanks Boss."
"And Tony," Gibbs added as an afterthought.
"Yeaahhhh?"
"You out the front?"
"Unless they have a neon sign out the back."
"Good." Gibbs made sure to speak every word loud and clear. "Stay. Where. You. Are. Got that?"
"Understood sir," said Tony in a bad military impersonation.
Gibbs grabbed his keys and headed for the stairs as he talked. "Repeat it back to me."
"Staying where I are. On it, Boss."
Close enough. "Good. I'll be right there." Gibbs hung up, marching out the front door. You could never be too careful with DiNozzo; kid attracted trouble like a magnet.
As Gibbs drove he couldn't help feel uneasy. The situation felt a bit - well, hinky, and his gut wasn't leaving him alone. Tony didn't get drunk. Usually. There was the occasional sake bombing with the NCIS Japanese counterparts, but that was a very rare occasion. So what called for it this time? Gibbs' guess: nothing good. And there was something else nagging at him. Gibbs had Tony on speed dial, so wasn't his name meant to come up when he was ringing? Some ID thingy McGee had mentioned. His phone didn't seem to recognise the number. Maybe it needed rebooting?
As Gibbs pulled up outside McClaren's Pub, he got at least one question answered. There was Tony, sitting down out the front like he was told, leaning against the wall, and a pay phone hung out of it's socket only a few feet away. That would explain the mystery number, at least.
"Heyyyy!" called Tony through half open eyes, lifting a sluggish arm to point at Gibbs. "There he is! The man of the hour! Give it up for Leroy Jethro Gibbs, folks!" DiNozzo only managed a few half-hearted claps of his own before his hands fell back by his sides. As Gibbs reached him and crouched down to be at eye level, Tony muttered more seriously, "thanks for coming, Boss."
"What happened to your phone DiNozzo?"
"'Sss in my pocket," Tony slurred. "But the numbers were too small." Tony grinned up at his mentor sheepishly, like a kid being caught spray painting the school walls.
"Alright, come on," said Gibbs, reaching an arm under Tony's and wrapping it around his waist to help him up. Tony leaned heavily against Gibbs as he shuffled to his feet, but a sudden hiss of pain caused Gibbs to freeze. "You alright Tony?"
Tony's grin got, if possible, more sheepish. "Ahhh, yeah Boss. Had a slight atler...altler… altercation with a few meat heads. Or is it knuckle heads? Damn, Ziva's been rubbing off on me." Tony shook his head as if the fact saddened him. "But either, way, ah'm good now."
"Uh-huh," said Gibbs disbelievingly. He helped Tony take a few steps up the street so they were under a street light before taking another look at his agent. His amused half-smile turned to an angry grimace as he took in Tony's appearance properly for the first time. A large purpling bruise highlighted his left eye and his split lip was still bleeding slightly. Gibbs glared at the younger man. "Any other bruises I should know about?"
The guilty smile was back, as if Tony thought grinning at his boss would get him out of trouble. Tony often tried that tactic sober. Gibbs had never let on how easily it worked.
"Well I haven't really looked myself, so I don't know if there's an actual bruise or not…" Tony said distractedly. One of his hands were already gingerly holding his side.
"Ok," Gibbs sighed. He slowly lowered Tony back down to the ground to once again lean against the wall, this time in better light, and extracted himself from Tony's side. Turning to face him, Gibbs carefully lifted up Tony's shirt, his eyes narrowing further at what he saw.
A dark and ugly mark lit up the side of Tony's stomach, large enough to spread over his abdomen. It was much more severe bruising then what was on his face, the centre of it almost black.
"Bet you thought I'd been stabbed or something," said Tony, sounding amused.
"What the hell happened DiNozzo?" Gibbs' voice was slightly softer now as he examined his dishevelled and disoriented looking agent. But he could get no answer before they were interrupted by an angry yell.
"Oi! You! I ain't done with you yet!"
Gibbs turned on the balls of his feet to see three guys head straight for them from the entrance of the bar. He stood up to his full height as the lead man continued to yell.
"Was wondering where you scampered off to you little weasel!"
Gibbs stepped sideways so he was completely blocking off Tony from the three angry men, who all seemed to be built like lumberjacks. The guy leading the others stopped right in front of Gibbs, glaring at him with unfocused eyes. "I suggest you get out of the way," he said menacingly, looking down slightly at Gibbs. "You don't need to be involved in this."
Gibbs smirked, unintimidated by the man's height or the heavy stench of drink on his breath. "Oh, I think I do," he said calmly.
One of the men standing behind Lead Meat-Head barked out a harsh laugh. "Guy's got his dad to help him!"
Meat-Head grinned at his lackey's comment. "Move out of the way old man," he hissed. "I won't ask again."
"Well good," said Gibbs, "neither will I. Turn around and leave, now, before I arrest you for assaulting a federal agent."
The hostile man laughed again. "That guy ain't no federal agent! Look at him!" Tony was watching the scene warily but making no move to escape. Gibbs kept his eyes on Meat-Head as he continued to threaten. "Go rolling on home old man. You'll see your boy when we're finished with 'im"
"You make another move on him," said Gibbs in a relaxed voice, "I'll drop you to the ground myself." His voice was quiet and the half-smile was still there, but anyone who knew Jethro would have been running. The danger was written all over his stance, his expression, his tone. But these guys were just too drunk to see it.
"Derek, maybe we should just go," said the man who hadn't spoken yet. Well, at least one of them had a bit of common sense left.
Derek grinned. "No way. If this guy wants to get a taste of the action too, that's fine by me." He brought his large fist back and begun to swing it in an impressive arch right at Gibbs' face, but the marine was quicker. Ducking, Gibbs brought his own fist up and socked Derek right in the jaw, eliciting an impressive 'crack'. Derek cried out in pain and stumbled back as his friends moved in to help. The cockier one came at Gibbs first, roaring drunkenly, but the alcohol hindered his movements and Gibbs was easily able to trip him up, bringing his gun out to rest on the man's sweaty back as he hit the ground in one fluid movement. Derek and his other friend widened their eyes at the sight of the weapon, backing away slowly.
"Tha hell…" muttered Derek.
"Federal agent," said Gibbs, annoyed at having to repeat himself. Using his free hand to point to a still unmoving Tony, he announced, "also a federal agent. You getting the picture yet?"
The man underneath Gibbs squirmed nervously. "I'm sorry man! We didn't know! Let me go alright? I won't hurt your friend!"
"Shut up," was Gibbs' only reply. Looking to Tony, he raised his voice slightly. "DiNozzo!"
"On your six, Boss," muttered Tony tiredly.
"Get in the damn car."
Tony nodded and stumbled to his feet, leaning against the wall as he slowly dragged himself upright. Derek glared at Tony as he slowly staggered away from them all and towards the familiar NCIS car. Gibbs looked from Derek to Tony and back again, making sure that Derek didn't try any sudden moves and that Tony didn't fall over all at once. When finally Tony navigated his way past the door handle and was sliding into the passenger seat, Gibbs retracted the gun from the man's back and stepped away but kept the firearm within sight. He could have arrested them. He could have gotten them jail time, and it would be a damned satisfactory feeling. But right now his priority was getting Tony home and safe. Let the lumberjacks get away to lick their wounds. But if they ever tried anything again…
"You better hope I don't run into you again," growled Gibbs as he walked away. All three men just stood stock still as Gibbs got into the car and started the ignition. Tony rested his head against the glass as Gibbs began to drive away.
"Thanks Boss," he said quietly. Gibbs wasn't even sure he was supposed to have heard him.
"What the hell did you do DiNozzo?"
"I mayyy have made a few… what's the word… unsanitary comments about head lumberjack's mother," admitted Tony, his eyes drooping as he looked out the window. "But he started it."
Gibbs glanced over at his agent, amused. "That so?"
"Well yeah," said Tony, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He insulted my sister."
"You don't have a sister Tony."
DiNozzo sighed. "Yeah, I know."
Gibbs studied Tony quickly before turning back to the empty road. There was something going on with Tony, and he intended to find out what it was while the intoxication was still muddling his brain. Less jokes and deflections for him to hide behind, as he so often did.
They had pulled up and Gibbs was helping Tony through the front door before the younger agent finally realised something. "This isn't my place."
"Nope."
"This is your place."
"Yup."
"What are we doing at your place Gibbs?"
"Well, I live here," said Gibbs, enjoying the confusion on his friend's face. "And there was still a chance of you passing out and getting a concussion or something equally ridiculous if I left you at your place."
"What, don't you trust me?" asked Tony, attempting to sound indignant and coming off sulky.
Gibbs didn't answer, just smiled as he almost carried the nearly-out-cold man into his lounge room. After a few minutes of confusion and disorientation on Tony's part, he was lying on the couch with his face buried in the cushions as he let out a low moan.
"Why does my stomach hurt?" came a muffled query.
"Might have to do with the three lumberjacks you got in a fight with."
"Ha! Lumberjacks! That's what I called 'em."
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I heard you Tony." There was a moment of silence as Gibbs sat down on the coffee table facing Tony, leaning forward intently even though Tony's face was hidden. "What's going on DiNozzo?"
"As far as I can tell I'm lying face first in your old sofa and you have a dust mite problem." Ok, so inebriation didn't completely strip Tony of his diversion.
"Tony."
"You know this reminds me of a movie…"
"DiNozzo."
"I just can't remember which one…"
"Hey! DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled as if it were a normal day in the bullpen.
There was a pause. "Yeah Boss?"
"What the hell's the matter with you?"
"You're going to have be more specific." The voice was getting quieter and more muffled. Tony was tired.
"How about this then. What provoked you to go out and get drunk off your ass then get into a fight with three other guys?"
After a slight hesitation, Tony answered with "my dad rang me today."
If Gibbs didn't know better he would have thought his agent was trying to change the subject again. But he did know better, and he knew what Tony's shaky relationship with Senior could do to him. So he just quietly asked "he have much to say?"
"Just that he's divorcing Stephanie. I missed one again, apparently." Gibbs wiped his face with his hand tiredly. "So he wanted to tell me my birthday present might be a little late while he pays the lawyer."
"It isn't your birthday." It wasn't a question.
"Nope. I think Dad got it mixed up again."
Gibbs noticed how much more serious Tony was sounding now. Despite the influences of alcohol he could still have his head on straight when needed. He sat there, studying the back of the tense young man he considered family. How someone else could take such an amazing son for granted, he would never know.
"So anyways," Tony went on without encouragement. "I resisted pointing out I haven't gotten a present from him in years and asked what Stephanie was like instead." Gibbs stayed silent, knowing Tony would continue to explain at his own pace. "He just said he was busy and that he had to go." There was humourless chuckle from under the cushion. "But he made sure to wish me a happy birthday before he hung up."
Gibbs sighed. He'd never liked DiNozzo Senior. And the more he learnt about the man, the more he just seemed like a jackass. "Get some sleep Tony," he murmured, patting him on the back as he stood up.
"On it Boss," came the tired reply. Gibbs allowed a small smile as he heard soft snoring drift from his senior field agent almost straight away. He studied the body sprawled over his couch and considered how uncomfortable that would be with a hangover in the morning.
The next morning Tony woke with the kind of headache you wanted to skip the pills for and just reach for the gun. He groaned and turned onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow, when he came to a sudden stop - this wasn't his pillow. This wasn't his bed. Tony shot up and regretted the sudden movement immediately. He stumbled out of the bed and ran down the hall to the bathroom, gasping at a mysterious flare of pain from his stomach and realised along the way he actually knew where the bathroom was. He'd been here before.
"What… am I doing at Gibbs' place?" he managed to gasp out before reaching the toilet. He bent over the bowl and retched painfully, the abuse of alcohol the night before escaping in a messy… Well to be honest Tony wasn't sure what to call it. He tried no think about it.
When he was sure nothing else would be coming up Tony flushed and walked on shaky legs to the sink. He splashed water on his face, enjoying the cool refreshment washing over him as if cleaning away whatever had happened the night before. Bringing more water to his face he winced as he touched his eye. Looking into the mirror Tony sucked in a breath of surprise as he saw the bruise. "The hell..?"
Gibbs was in the kitchen brewing coffee when he heard the sounds of Tony being sick upstairs. It was another ten minutes before he finally plodded into sight, looking tired and green.
"You'll be cleaning that up later," announced Gibbs as a way of greeting. He smirked at Tony squinting against the sunlight filtering through the windows and brought down the blinds to bring a small respite to his sore head.
"I went to see if you were in the basement," muttered Tony. "You've got another boat in the works."
"Mhmm."
"Kate would be honored."
Gibbs didn't answer.
"Boss…" murmured Tony uncertainly, keeping his voice low. "What happened?"
Gibbs slid a cup of strong, steaming coffee across the table, which Tony accepted gratefully. He knew Tony would hate to realise he'd become so vulnerable in front of him - it was a hate of DiNozzo's to show weakness in front of anyone, let alone his boss. Gibbs studied Tony for a moment who studied Gibbs in turn, wary of hearing what he'd done last night to end up with mysterious bruises and asleep in Gibbs' spare bed. Finally Gibbs just smirked and took a sip of his own coffee.
"Someone insulted your sister."
Tony looked confused. "I don't have a sister."
"I know."
Couldn't decide if that was a good place to leave it or not... Anyways. Thanks for reading! I have sooo many plotbunnies floating around and I haven't even finished two of the stories I've already started writing! Oh the harship of loving FanFiction ;)
I've created a Twitter account which I'm more addicted to than I would have expected, so please feel free to follow me. As you can guess my username is NerdBurga. I'll be using it to talk about where I'm at with my fanfiction, what I'll be working on next, and why I'm late (as always) on my updates. You might also occasionally get a random comment from me, and feel free to contact me through Twitter (as well as through FF, obviously). Thanks guys! Hope you liked.