Title: Misunderstanding
Summary: Will a malicious prank and a misunderstanding tear Team Gibbs apart?
Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.
Spoilers: 9.02 Restless, plus minor references to several other episodes I'm too lazy to list.
A/N: Thanks to ncismom for the beta! Remaining mistakes are mine.
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Last night had gone better than he thought it would. His confession to Tim as to who the real victim of the 'flagpole incident' (as he chose to think of it) was taken with a surprising amount of understanding and sympathy. There were none of his semi-nasty barbs and the Probie seemed supportive of his lapse in memory and of him.
And in return, McGee confessed that he'd been a victim of teasing and bullying a few times during high school. Tony walked out of the conference room with a sense that he and Tim had a better understanding of each other, that their friendship had deepened in a way. And he felt better overall now that he knew he had not actually been so uncool as to pull the malicious prank Stinky John had successfully pulled on him.
He grimaced a little with the sudden remembrance of the pain and humiliation that being run up that flagpole had caused him at the time. That incident had prompted him to get into sports in an attempt to not be made fun of and he'd discovered it was something he was actually good at – very good, depending on the sport in question. And over time, his abilities in football and basketball had overshadowed and erased the embarrassment of that day.
Tony left a little early that evening and was looking forward to starting off the weekend with the mud wrestling tickets Ziva and Tim had given him. He knew his mood had been off lately and was looking forward to the night out with the three frat buddies who were more than willing to come along and enjoy the sights. At least there was one area of his life he was certain about.
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He arrived early Monday morning. Well, not early enough to beat Gibbs, but definitely early enough to have beat McGee and Ziva to the office. Reaching his desk, he noticed a large brown envelope had been left for him.
Curious, he lifts the envelope up off his desk to examine it. Right away he noticed several things: no postage, no return address, the envelope is addressed specifically to him along with the Yard's address, and whatever is inside is soft and pliable. Mindful of his exposure to the plague seven years ago, he decides to go ahead and open the package knowing that mail in federal agencies is now aggressively monitored for bio-hazardous threats and explosives. But still paranoid, he keeps the envelope at arms' length, holds his breath and carefully lifts the barely glued down flap.
When nothing happens, he cautiously looks inside at the contents, but still doesn't dare to breathe. Catching a glimpse of the package within's label, his stomach drops down into his feet and he expels the breath he'd been holding. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath hoping what's inside is not what he'd thought he'd seen. Taking another peek to confirm the envelope's contents, his shoulders sag and disappointment washes over him.
McGee. It had to be him; can't be anyone else. The only other people that know about this are Stinky John (who had apologized to him) and Gibbs. And Gibbs would never, ever betray him like that. A flip remark to put him in his place or a head slap to get him to focus, but never would Gibbs do anything like … this.
But McGee. Tony thinks McGee is definitely capable of being cruel like this if past verbal barbs are anything to go by. Ziva would also lose no sleep in doing something like this. But, if she did this, then that would mean that McGee had to have told her about their private conversation.
Of course, the information may not have been given over entirely voluntarily, he thinks as his mind flashed back to that alley where Ziva had tricked him into spilling the beans about that sperm bank. But until he saw evidence otherwise, the culprit had to be McGee.
How could…? Why would Tim do something so…so…cruel? he thinks to himself. I thought we'd come to a better understanding of each other during our talk.
Without realizing, his legs give and he's sitting in his chair still staring into the package. Why would McGee twist the knife in his back about one of his worst childhood experiences?
Granted, the 'flagpole incident' barely made the Top 25 of worst childhood experiences overall – his mother's death and the subsequent major changes to his life taking up a good portion of that list. But since he'd been forced to remember the truth, the incident definitely did make it to the list of Top 10 worst school-related experiences. Perhaps even the Top 5, depending on if he included college incidences or not.
If college incidences were included, then the top spot on his worst school-related experiences would absolutely and positively go to the game in which Dr. Brad Pitt broke his leg – the game which ended his dreams of being a professional football player. At the time, he'd been so devastated and lost, cast adrift from what he thought the path of his life would take. But he'd stumbled, almost literally, upon police work and eventually NCIS. He'd thought he'd found his calling here, a place where he belonged, but right this moment he wasn't so sure.
A package of child-sized 'tighty whities'? What was McGee playing at?
He knows he can't leave the evidence of this 'joke' lying around – not with a nosy Ziva around. Realizing there's no good place to get rid of the package, he decides to deposit the hated envelope and its contents in his car's trunk. He'd burn the evidence of the ill-conceived prank later.
Grabbing his keys and putting the envelope under his arm, he starts to walk determinedly to the stairs leading to the parking garage.
"Where do you think you're going, DiNozzo?"
Still walking, he throws back over his shoulder, "Left my phone in my car, Boss."
He knows without a doubt Gibbs saw the envelope, but he doesn't care. He just wants the damned package out of sight and hopefully out of mind for the day – knowing the 'out of mind' part was going to be the more difficult to accomplish.
Tony manages to avoid McGee and Ziva in the parking garage – a minor miracle as far as he's concerned. As he's riding back up to his floor, he's decides to not let McGee (and Ziva?) have the satisfaction of seeing that the prank had bothered him.
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Stepping out of the elevator, he has his phone in hand, making like he's checking for any messages that he may have missed. He knows he's not fooling Gibbs – he never has and probably never will – but he knows it'll fool his teammates if Boss mentioned where he'd gone.
By the time he gets back to his desk, there was a dead body – the file coming at him with barely a warning. There was no time for the usual morning banter because of the new case and Tony was glad something had come up. He was definitely was not glad someone had died, but he was happy for the distraction from that envelope and McGee's 'funny' joke.
On the ride to the scene of the crime, he wondered if anything he'd ever said in jest or any of his pranks had been cruel in nature or had exploited something said in confidence. He couldn't think of anything, but given how he'd flip-flopped the 'flagpole incident' and his recent concussion and amnesia – could he really be sure of his memory anymore? What other truths was he hiding from himself?
They spent the day working the case, and neither McGee nor Ziva made any remarks related to Stinky John or the flagpole. Tony decided to not do or say anything about the envelope he found as a 'present' on his desk this morning. McGee had chosen not to rub it in any further or mention the envelope at all. Maybe he just wanted to get a bit of revenge for all the times he'd had his fingers glued to the keyboard.
Fine. He could take it like a man. Some retribution was to be expected. He just wished McGee hadn't decided to use a moment during which he'd thought they'd bonded as canon-fodder.
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The next morning, he'd arrived after Ziva and before McGee. When his desk comes in to sight, he can immediately see that a brown envelope lying atop it. His eyes flicker towards Ziva wondering if she'd been her sometimes nosy self and looked inside the envelope or not.
"Good morning, Ziva," he says as cheerfully as possible while stowing his gear and sitting down.
"Morning, Tony," Ziva distractedly replies without looking up from her computer monitor.
The reaction is a little suspicious for Ziva – usually she's in his face about something right about now. But, he realized, the irregular behavior could be explained away if she was simply concentrating on writing yet another email to her friend in South America or to CI-Ray.
Turning his attention back to the envelope, he noticed that on the outside it looked exactly like the one from yesterday. But, it's obvious there's something different inside given how flat it is today as compared to the previous morning. He starts to lift the flap to look inside, but decides not to for two reasons. One: He really does not want to let whatever is inside affect his working relationship (and friendship?) any more than it's been effected. And two: Given the relatively benign prank 'gift' of yesterday, the contents are either just as benign or more vicious in nature – or both.
He was in no mood for Ziva to catch a whiff of what was currently causing his darkening mood. That is if she didn't already know the envelope's contents. He mentally shakes his head at that thought. There's no proof yet that she's teamed up with McGee in the execution of these pranks.
Besides McGee, the only person who knows the truth is Gibbs, and while his mentor might take the opportunity to get a dig in…
It has to be McGee, but why?
Again, he mentally shakes his head. No use in rehashing any of that right now.
Hoping he didn't give anything away when he opened the envelope only part-way, he carefully arranges the expression on his face to one of his usual happy-go-lucky ones. He slips the envelope under his arm as he rises from his chair and starts walking towards the elevator.
Once he's passed the bullpen, he calls back to Ziva, "Going for coffee. Back in ten."
With any luck, it wouldn't take him longer than ten minutes to put the offending object in his trunk (away from nosy people with grabby hands) and get a coffee.
It actually takes him nine minutes, which is apparently two minutes too long as McGee has arrived and Gibbs has returned from wherever it is he goes in the morning after he arrives at the office. Gibbs asks for a sitrep on their case and he gets a head slap for not having anything new, while McGee and Ziva apparently had, in the short time he was gone, at least gathered more on a possible motive even though it results in no new leads by the end of the morning.
He knows he's distracted by what's going on between him and McGee. Knows he shouldn't let it distract him because he does deserve some of what Tim is dishing out. But, he can't help it. Can't help feeling let down by McGee's betrayal of the real story behind Stinky John, something that he'd shared in confidence.
They'd been working together for more than seven years now. You'd think McGee with his McMIT brain would know by now that Tony only meant to keep his Probie on his toes, that everything he'd done had been meant to be funny, a joke, but never meant to drive a knife into his back.
Over the years, Tim and Ziva had offered up hurtful zingers in response to things Tony's said:
"How old do you think I am?" Tony asked just a few days ago.
"Physically or mentally?" was Ziva's oh-so-clever response.
And that was one of the tamer remarks that have been made over the years. And maybe now they've graduated to the next level. They always have claimed (either by implication or plain, overt comments) to be better and smarter than him.
No matter, he thinks. I've been with Gibbs the longest. And Gibbs once said that Rule 5 applied to me. So, that's got to mean something, right? Unless it no longer applies…
The black cloud hanging over Tony's head all day did have one advantage. Because he was unconsciously not acting like his usual self and because he was ignoring the rest of the team (including Gibbs), he found a lead that pointed them towards figuring out who their prime suspect was. Now all they had to do was find the guy.
Gibbs eventually let them go for the night after it became obvious it would take a while before they would get any responses to their BOLO. Tony got out of there as fast as he was able, knowing Gibbs knew there was something up, but not wanting to give the team leader an opportunity to hold him back for a talk he really didn't want to have. He sighed in relief when the elevator doors closed before either McGee or Ziva were able to get in with him or Gibbs was able to call out his name.
He'd go home, have dinner, and watch a mini-marathon of Magnum P.I. before going to bed. Tomorrow would come soon enough – along with tomorrow's prank. Tony was in bed before he'd realized that he hadn't even looked inside today's envelope let alone taken it or the previous day's out of his trunk and destroyed them. As he fell asleep, Tony hoped that by not reacting to the damned 'presents' he was being left, that McGee would get over this now over-developed vicious streak sooner rather than later.
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On the way into the office the next day, he gave himself a Gibbs-slap for forgetting to take the previous days' envelopes out of his trunk.
Idiot! he admonished himself.
His gut was also telling him that Gibbs would be waiting for him this morning so he made sure to time his arrival to nearly that of his two younger teammates – taking the next elevator up after them. Sure enough, Gibbs was at his desk throwing a concerned glare his way and when he sat down, there was of course another envelope.
It was the same on the outside as the others, and from the feel, something different was inside yet again. He couldn't, or rather didn't want to open it up there in the bullpen. And, he didn't think he could get away with the excuses of the last two mornings to leave his desk – Gibbs wouldn't believe them. And, unfortunately, there wasn't really anyway to hide today's equivalent of the twist of the knife in his back from overly-curious eyes.
He didn't have many options left open to him. His best, he thought, was to open it, make like it was something of no consequence, that it was something he was expecting (which, in truth, he had been) and then put it away in his desk. Treating it like junk mail and throwing it in his garbage can would allow the opportunity for people to think they could rifle through his trash. So far his teammates hadn't violated the illusion of privacy his desk provided. He'd get the chance to rid himself of today's hated 'joke' at some point when no one was around to see him do it.
Unfortunately, the opportunity never presented itself. They got several hits on their BOLO and in following them up; they were able to capture their suspect. Tony was careful to give his teammates a wide berth. He was polite and respectful, and he made sure he gave them no new ammunition to use against him.
He could tell that the reemergence of 'Serious Tony' was worrying them. That, to them, 'Serious Tony' was the same as 'Nice Gibbs' was to him, but he didn't care. He was tired of trying to prove himself to them, tired of being the brunt of their cruel jokes. From time-to-time during the day, he could feel Gibbs' concerned gaze fall upon him, but he studiously ignored it. He was not in the mood to have Gibbs, once he found out what was going on, laugh at him and tell him he deserved this current retaliation because of his past actions.
Well Boss, he thought. There's such a thing as going too far, and I've never ever crossed that line.
Capturing their suspect evidently did not mean their case was closed. Once Gibbs starting interrogating him, he confessed to having a 'silent partner' in crime which seemed to explain some of the evidence that didn't fit with the guy they'd caught.
More information gathering was the order of business for the rest of the day and into the night. Once they'd figured out who the 'silent partner' was based on what little information their suspect had given them, a BOLO was issued on her. When Gibbs finally gave the word that they could go home, and while McGee and Ziva were distracted gathering their things, Tony managed to slip the hated envelope of the day out of his drawer and stuff it into his backpack. He's pretty sure Gibbs saw him do it (because somehow Gibbs sees everything), but it didn't matter to him anymore so late in the night. He just wanted to go home.
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Even though he'd been worn out from the day and the effort of remaining professional with his teammates, he didn't get much sleep that night. First and foremost, he dreaded seeing what today's envelope contained – if he even bothered to look inside it. Second, he dreaded the talk he and Gibbs were destined to have due to his recent behavior. And third, he really didn't want to have to pretend anymore that he wasn't annoyed with Tim (and possibly Ziva) for a host of things stemming from their talk and his confession about Stinky John.
He couldn't sleep thinking about what was going on and McGee's joke that was now past going too far. Good-natured ribbing, even the not-so-good natured ribbing, he endured from time-to-time from McGee and Ziva was much more tolerable than this near torment. He'd thought remaining silent, not reacting, would have given him (them) the message to back off, but so far it wasn't working. And he was getting tired of it. Tired to the point where he might just have to shove the next envelope of the day down McPrankster's throat.
Giving up on sleep, he tried going for a run to clear his head. When that didn't work, he decided to go into the office. He made sure to time it so that he arrived after Gibbs arrived and had gone away from his desk. As much as he dreaded going to work right now, he still loved his job. He just wasn't all too sure about the people he worked with anymore.
If they had no problem exploiting this traumatic event of his childhood that he told to Tim in confidence, then they would probably have no qualms about exploiting other traumatic events. He shuddered to think what his teammates might do with the full story surrounding his mother's death and decided they never would know now. He was going to be very careful what he said to his teammates from now on. He wouldn't reveal any more personal details of his life to those he couldn't trust them with anymore.
He had a fleeting bit of hope that there wouldn't be an envelope today. That McGee and Ziva had given up trying to get a reaction from him. But the second that he could see his desk, that bit of hope was crushed by an anvil and then stomped on into oblivion by a herd of elephants. He set down his pack and grabbed the newest envelope intent on getting rid of it as soon as possible.
But as he turned to leave the bullpen, he heard Gibbs call out his name. Tony turned, dreading that Gibbs had chosen this moment for their inevitable talk. Chosen this moment for a talk in which he was holding damning evidence of three – now four – days of humiliation. Except that talk never came.
Instead Gibbs informed him they'd gotten a hit on the BOLO for the 'silent partner' and the Boss needed him right away for back-up. He had no time to get rid of today's envelope, so he quickly assuaged his paranoia that someone would learn of his humiliation by shoving it into his locked desk drawer and ran to catch up to his team leader. Ziva and McGee met them at the location the BOLO had produced and they managed to take down the 'silent partner' accomplice without a shot being fired.
Back at NCIS HQ, Gibbs was off in interrogation making sure they had the right lady, while the rest of the team was sent off to do paperwork instead of getting to observe. Tony was briefly disappointed. He loved watching the Boss in interrogation – learning from the master. But the government loved its paperwork to be done on time, and the more that was done now meant that there would be less to do later – meaning after normal working hours later.
After a long while of paper-pushing, his bladder impressed upon him its need to be emptied. He should've known better than to use the men's restroom on their floor because for some reason everyone liked to corner him in there – thought confronting him while he was urinating was a fabulous idea. He'd just stepped up to the urinal and unzipped his pants when both his teammates walked in.
Seeing the two of them and assessing their expressions, he zipped his pants back up and took a step away from the urinal. The three of them stared at each other for a couple of drawn out moments. Tony remained quiet, deciding that if they were going to interrupt what should be his private, personal time, then they should be the ones to have to speak first. Ziva and McGee gave each other a look as if deciding who should do the talking. Ziva raised her eyebrow and McGee shifted his stance looking more uncomfortable than he did a short time ago.
So, it's to be Ziva, Tony thought to himself.
And it confirmed, at least in his mind, that McGee had told her (or was tricked into telling her) and she must also be involved in the last four days of fun. He shifted his full attention to her as she began to speak.
"We are worried about you, Tony."
Wait. What?
"Worried about me?" he blurted not understanding what was going on.
"Yes. You have not been yourself these last few days."
What the hell? What game are they playing?
She continued before his mind could regroup and respond out loud.
"You have been reverting back to how you were last year during that," she flails a hand while obviously trying to think of the word she wants, "thing with Brenda Bittner."
"We miss our class clown, Tony," McGee interjects.
Now they're blaming me for how I've been the last few days? That is it! I've had it with this crap!
"Well, you two should've thought of that before pulling your little prank," he nearly spits out before attempting to get passed them and out the door.
Ziva manages to grabs his arm, "Do not be so melodramatic."
"Melodramatic? Me? I've been as polite and professional with you two these last few days as possible, hoping you'd give up on this stupid, vicious scheme you've had going. But it's never going to end is it?"
"What are you—?" McGee starts to ask, but Tony, having lost all patience with his teammates, interrupts.
He points his finger at McGee, "I trusted you Tim, and you betrayed me. First to her," he points blindly towards Ziva, "and then the two of you together with your on-going prank." Tony pauses and then continues with sarcasm and unhappiness in his voice. "Thanks so much for making me dread even getting out of bed in the morning."
"We haven't done anything to you, Tony," McGee practically stammers out.
"Right. So, I'm just imagining the 'gifts' you've been leaving me every morning the last four days," he blows out a frustrated sigh and grabs the door handle.
"Tony, the only thing going on lately is that business with Skanky John…" McGee's quiet interjection of "Stinky" is barely heard, and Ziva continues. "Whatever. Stinky John. Stop being the child you were then and grow up!"
The senior field agent opens the door and says in a voice dripping with venom, "Telling me to grow up? After what you've done… I can't believe two people I thought were my friends, people I trusted, are treating me like this."
McGee opens his mouth to say something, but Tony cuts him off. "No, Agent McGee. Don't even try to deny it. Agent David, please tell Agent Gibbs that I've gone home sick and to contemplate my future with this organization."
He steps out the door and is gone before McGee and Ziva can even wrap their heads around what Tony has just said. They both had the same, silent question running through their heads stopping them in their tracks.
Tony is thinking of leaving NCIS?
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To be concluded.
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A/N: I'm hoping to publish the second half of this story on Friday…
Thanks for reading!