This messes with canon timeline – among other things!
"Morning, Gibbs."
"Chief," said Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, looking up from his desk in the squad room at NCIS.
"It's time," sighed Anthony DiNozzo Sr.
"So you say," said Gibbs neutrally as he took a sip of his coffee.
Special Agent Tim McGee, who was watching his Boss, suddenly wondered if drinking coffee actually gave Gibbs an excuse not to speak; that it gave him a breathing space and that was why he was lost without a cup at hand. Well, that and the whole caffeine addiction thing, of course.
"I don't want to do it," said Senior with another sigh and a mournful look, "But we have to be practical."
"Sure," came another Gibbs' non-committal answer.
"The adverts have been out for two months. My attorney says that the court will probably reckon that's long enough."
"Huh."
"Gibbs …"
"Not sure why you're telling me all this," interrupted Gibbs. "It's your idea. It's what you want to do."
"Gibbs," said Senior pleadingly, "I don't want to do it, I don't want to have to do it."
"Then don't," said Gibbs simply.
"I … we … have to face the facts … Junior's not coming back."
"He didn't like being called Junior," chipped in Tim.
"What?" asked Senior.
"Tony, he didn't like being called Junior. He tried to tell you."
"I think I know my son better than you, Tim."
"You think?" said Gibbs.
"He's my son, of course I know him better."
"Seem to remember we had this conversation before," said Gibbs reflectively. "The first time you showed up here … turned out you didn't even know your son had had the plague."
"I remember, Gibbs," said Senior stiffly, "I know I wasn't always the best of fathers, but we'd been working on that. You know that."
"I guess," said Gibbs reluctantly.
"Tony's only been gone two years," said Tim.
"Nearer three," said Senior.
"Still, it usually takes longer than that to have someone declared dead," said Tim.
"There are ways around that," said Senior. "The Court will take into account that Jun-Tony was a federal agent, living a dangerous life. That it's more than likely that he was killed by a criminal."
"He was on vacation," protested Tim, "Skiing with his frat brothers in Montana."
"Tim," said Senior kindly, "You know better than that, you guys … you public servants … are never completely off duty or safe."
"Court's going to want to see some evidence that it is likely that Tony was killed," said Gibbs. "We didn't find anything. And we looked. Hard."
It was Tim's time to sigh as he remembered the trauma when Tony had failed to return from his skiing trip. At first, Gibbs had been irritated, then angry at his apparent tardiness but the hours had stretched to days and then weeks. Tony's frat brothers had confirmed that he had been in good form during their week together and that he had set off, as planned, to drive to Billings to take a plane to DC while they remained for an extra couple of days.
Snow had been forecast but it seemed that Tony had decided the risk of being stranded was less dangerous than the wrath of Gibbs if he was late back. Tony had never arrived to take his booked flight and there was no record of him having been in a crash. His credit cards had not been used and nobody admitted to having seen him.
When it had become clear that Tony was missing, Gibbs had scooped up his team and travelled to a snowbound Montana. As far as they could, they checked the routes Tony might have taken but this was made more difficult because there had been a crash on the most likely road meaning that he had probably taken a diversion along one of the minor roads. Montana was experiencing one of its worst winters for years and not even Gibbs' glare and ferocity had melted the snow to enable easier access.
The Montana Highway Patrol had been sympathetic, but it was not the first time a driver had disappeared during a white out: they had done what they could, but the inference was clear, the Spring thaw would probably reveal what had happened to Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.
The MCRT had eventually to admit defeat, trying to take comfort from the fact that Tony wasn't in any of the State hospitals (or their morgues) and that his rental hadn't been found. Less comforting, by the time they left for DC, was that if Tony was stranded somewhere out in the snow, he must be dead by now.
"Hey," said Senior as he registered Tim's sigh, "I know you miss him, Tim. I do too, he's my son! But I figured you'd be glad to get things sorted out."
"Excuse me?" said Tim.
"Well, you're living in his apartment … but perhaps you don't want to be sorted out … this way you can carry on living there."
"Mr DiNozzo," said Tim stiffly, "You know that I've been paying rent into Tony's bank account. It means that his mortgage is covered. It was the best thing to do, it meant that the Bank wasn't going to have to foreclose and they were happy with it."
"Tim," said Gibbs, raising his hand in a pacifying gesture, "Calm down, we know you haven't done anything wrong." He looked at Senior, "Why the hurry, Chief?"
"Well, NCIS don't seem to want to do anything about it," said Senior, "So it's up to me as Jun – I mean, Tony's nearest relative."
"Doesn't explain the rush," said Gibbs.
"It's been nearly three years, I wouldn't call that a rush."
"Two years and seven months," said Tim quietly.
"It's time. And I'm not getting any younger … if we don't get Junior's affairs in order before I die, well, things will be complicated for someone else to work out." Senior's voice quavered as he hunched slightly to give the impression of frailty.
"Huh. Not sure what there is to get in order," said Gibbs, "Like McGee said, his apartment is secure. He hasn't got any dependants …" he looked sternly at Senior to make sure he knew that Gibbs didn't consider he was dependent on Tony.
"That's because you don't understand finance," said Senior loftily, "There's no point in having Jun-Tony's money lying around doing nothing."
"Ah," said Gibbs as he suspected they'd come to the real reason that Senior wanted to have his son declared dead. "Got a deal that needs funding?"
"I resent your implication," said Senior hotly. Gibbs shrugged. "I loved my son and it's devastating that I've lost him …" Gibbs' eyes softened slightly, he had to acknowledge that Senior had given every indication of being distraught when Tony disappeared. "But," continued Senior, "He'd want me to be practical … and move on … like you all have."
Gibbs glanced around the squad room and wondered if Senior was right. Had they moved on? Tim had taken over, eventually, as Senior Field Agent. Ziva had returned to Israel: Gibbs still wasn't sure why she'd gone but somehow thought that Tony's disappearance had been a factor. Abby still had a Tony memorial wall in place and had her computers on alert for any sightings.
Ducky, on the surface, was the same affable and genial man as ever but Gibbs sensed that Tony's loss had somehow aged him and that his well of internal sorrow had been topped up almost to overflowing. Jimmy Palmer had finally graduated from Medical School and was working his way towards qualifying as an ME: he was the only one who, after a period of mourning, had seemed to be least changed although he and Breena had named their first child Victoria Antonia.
And Gibbs? Had he moved on? If Ducky had a well of sadness, then Gibbs had a well of guilt and Tony's disappearance had added to it as he worried that whatever had happened to Tony had been caused by a reluctance to incur Gibbs' anger by returning late from vacation. Gibbs sometimes felt that stoicism was his defining feature: somewhere along the line, he had lost the capacity for joy.
Gibbs' glance around the squad room revealed that it was not only him who lacked joy but the whole team. They hadn't realised it at the time, but it was Tony who brought zest and liveliness to the team: they might not have always appreciated it – and Gibbs almost smiled at the memories of how much it had not been appreciated at times – but they had needed it. Agent Ellie Bishop was new to the team, but she was naturally serious and didn't lift the spirits of her co-workers. The latest new Probie was still too scared to do anything as foolhardy as make a trick or pull a prank.
Gibbs didn't sigh but he breathed a deep breath as he thought that perhaps they had moved on, but not in a direction they wanted.
"Do what you want," he told Senior, "Just leave us out of it."
"I would have thought you'd want to do this," said Senior, reluctant to give up on getting NCIS involved, "I mean, we'll be able to have a memorial service … remember him properly."
Suddenly, Gibbs was on his feet, "We remember him every day!" he hissed in fury, "We've never forgotten him. We don't need a Memorial service to honour him!"
McGee stood as well, ready to intervene in a way he couldn't quite imagine: his hand-to-hand skills had improved immeasurably but he doubted he'd ever be able to take Gibbs down, especially a riled-up Gibbs.
"What's going on here?" came another voice as Director Leon Vance walked down the stairs.
"Er, Mr DiNozzo was telling us about his plans to have … Tony … Agent DiNozzo declared dead," said Tim realising that Gibbs was using his energy to hold on to his temper rather than replying to the Director.
"Special Agent DiNozzo hasn't been missing for seven years," said Vance coolly, "It seems a little premature."
"I don't believe it's too early," said Senior, "And despite what your agents think, Director Vance, I do have some rights and insight into this."
"I'm sure. Nevertheless, as I'm sure Agent Gibbs has made clear, this is not a matter that NCIS will get involved with. I'm sorry." The Director turned away.
"You know," said Senior, "Your agency's reluctance to have my son declared dead makes me wonder if you know something about his disappearance."
"Excuse me?" said Vance, turning back, suddenly conscious that McGee and Gibbs were watching him closely.
"I wonder if Junior has been sent on some undercover mission," said Senior, "Or perhaps you know he's been killed but you don't want the circumstances to come out. I gather you're quite the politician, Director Vance: always trying to protect the image of NCIS."
"You're right," said Vance, "I do want to protect the image of this Agency but not at any cost. I can assure you that I am not aware of Agent DiNozzo's whereabouts or the circumstances surrounding his disappearance. Good morning," and this time he went.
"You believe that, Gibbs?" asked Senior.
Gibbs hesitated for a moment or two. For some time, he had clung to the hope that Tony had indeed gone on some secret mission and had badgered Vance, the Secretary of the Navy and Fornell for information for months. Finally, in the face of flat, and apparently sincere, denials he had decided that was another hope he had to let go of.
"Yes," he answered Senior. He watched as Vance walked stiffly up the stairs, "Yes, I do."
"Then you must believe that Tony is dead."
But Gibbs wasn't ready to admit that yet and he took refuge once more in his coffee mug. At that moment, his desk phone rang,
"Gibbs … what? OK. Yes." He put the phone down, "Going for coffee," he announced.
McGee estimated that Gibbs' mug must still be more than half full and decided that the coffee addiction had another function: it gave him an excuse to leave situations he was uncomfortable with.
"Boss?" he asked.
"I'll be back," said Gibbs. McGee wasn't sure if that was a promise or a threat.
Gibbs brushed past Senior as he strode to the elevator.
"Well, I guess that's my cue to leave," said Senior, reaching for humour.
"I guess," said the normally polite McGee who was still smarting at the insinuation that he was profiting from Tony's absence.
A few minutes later, Gibbs marched into his favoured coffee shop, and stopped short as he saw who was waiting there for him.
"Gibbs … Boss?" said Tony with a polite but hesitant smile.
Gibbs wasn't sure whether to go for a hug or a head slap.