AN: This story was started several years ago - & the very idea of it is all thanks to a CBS Watch shoot MW did in the desert where one of the pictures showed him wearing a shirt that had a few buttons open and he stood there with a bottle of water wearing a pair of dog tags around his neck. The picture was HOT – if I could somehow link to it, I would but I can't find it anymore.

Circumstances…

It had been such an unbearably *long* week! And now, on a day when they should have been able to come together as a team to mourn before going to their various weekend lives prior to attempting to resume whatever passed as normalcy in their changeable world. Instead they'd been faced with a new order, a new world – one that put the four of them out of the familiar and was getting ready to toss them into the scary unknown. Old patterns had been reverted to rather quickly by Ziva (masking all feeling) and McGee (shell-shocked kid) as a way to cope. Neither Tony nor Gibbs could take any comfort in such behaviors.

For once Gibbs was nearly too blind-sided to react with his typical fury. He hadn't even expected Vance to break up his team. Had he expected that there would be fallout for the director dying while Tony & Ziva had been 'guarding' her? Initially – before he knew the facts. He'd been torn between reactions after speaking with Tony instead of Jenny when he'd called her cell phone. Taking the first available flight to Los Angeles had been natural and expected by both his agents. Seeing the brief flicker of too many emotions behind the professional mask that had enveloped Tony's very soul had been a given. Finding Assistant Director Vance already running what he considered *his* investigation at *his* crime scene had been a surprise and more than a slight annoyance. He should have clued in then to the idea that something was amiss. But he'd been overly consumed with piecing together why Jenny had died the way she had. And then there was Svetlana. Gibbs understood too well her thirst for revenge. And he certainly wasn't ready to deal with or discuss his inaction in Jenny's home. Had Franks not been there…

Growling under his breath, Gibbs yanked his desk drawer open, dropped the files of his new 'team' into it before unceremoniously slamming the drawer shut again. He despised being trapped and unable to maneuver but not even Gibbs could see a way out at the moment. McGee, at least, would still be close by – physically – and the young man would be utilizing his talent for and expertise in the cyber world. Ziva was returning to her homeland to do her father's bidding in Mossad. Then there was Tony – no, at work he remained DiNozzo. Would always be DiNozzo, Gibbs' Senior Field Agent no matter where Director Vance sent him. DiNozzo was undoubtedly being punished – assigned to the Ronald Reagan as the Agent Afloat.

Gibbs growled again under his breath. The Leon he'd known initially had not been as political as this one was now. He'd always been a more polished agent but he'd been a real guy, much like Gibbs himself. The man Gibbs had seen during the internal investigation had definitely possessed an agenda as well as ghosts in his closet. Somewhere along his climb up the 'corporate ladder' of the agency, Leon had changed. Gibbs didn't like it and, while he still considered the man to be a work-environment friend, he was determined to get to the bottom of the abnormal power play Vance was pulling by messing with his team. But first he had something more important to take care of, someone who was not going to leave town without actually hearing how important he was to Gibbs.

Tony sat on the edge of his bed with a partially full duffle bag at his feet. He'd gone over the list of 'suggested' items to bring with him several times already and had weeded out his more business formal type office wear as well as all of his more provocative date night clothing. Packing, though, had stalled as he allowed his mind to wander.

He believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that this assignment was his punishment for allowing Director Sheppard to be murdered in California. What he didn't understand was why Vance was punishing his whole team. Although if he looked at the assignments objectively, McGee's could probably be seen as a promotion, except that Tony knew how much being a competent field agent meant to McGee. Ziva being sent back to Israel was a mystery though. She'd been a part of the protection detail so too should face consequences yet from the tone and wording, it appeared to Tony that Vance had taken a specific pleasure in terminating her position. Not like the more official tone he'd used with both Tony and McGee.

"Stop that."

"Boss?"

"No, Tony, not your boss here, remember? "

"Not my boss at all according to Vance."

Gibbs walked over from the doorway to sit next to Tony on the bed. "It wasn't your fault, DiNozzo. She was sick, terminally ill. That diner was nothing more than the ability to go out her own way."

Tony's head turned, eyes immediately seeking out the other man's. He wanted to believe what he heard but the guilt inside wouldn't ease. He'd been so sure that Gibbs blamed him for not saving Jenny that not even hearing the words from the man whose opinion meant more than anything helped minimize the heaviness that had been with him since Gibbs had arrived at the diner in California.

Gibbs studied the dull expression in the eyes that were reaching out to him. He knew the pain and misplaced guilt would eat away Tony's soul if he didn't make any progress soon.

"Vance has his own agenda, Tony. Not quite sure what he's thinking with this, but I don't think what happened in California had anything to do with it."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't and to be honest, I'm not even sure this is the same Leon Vance I used to know."

Gibbs let the thought dangle complete but unfinished. His Tony would have latched on to it like a hungry pup, looking for details, comparisons, a chance to paint that mental picture more vividly. But the Tony who sat next to him now was as lifeless as Gibbs had ever seen.

"I need a drink."

Without waiting for the older man, Tony stood up and walked into the kitchen. Gibbs heard the search for a glass and the bottle. He'd known it would be the hard stuff that the other man was thinking of yet he made no move to join him. Instead he glanced down at the bag. Gibbs reached down and lifted it to the bed, rifling through it as he did so. Then he rose, a few items in hand, which he replaced before moving to the closet and grabbing ones to the replaced them before then adding other shirts, a couple of pairs of khakis and the worn, relaxed denim jeans that Tony looked so good in. As he rolled the jeans, Gibbs' thumb slid down the material. His sense of touch committing both the feel of the material and the image of his lover in wearing the garment to memory. Sighing quietly, he turned to the bathroom to get the hair products and other items the younger man favored.

Once the bag was packed and zipped, Gibbs headed for the kitchen. He'd given Tony time to either slowly sip one drink or to gulp the first glass down before, hopefully, sipping on a second. He'd allow him no more, not when this would be the last evening they had together for an unknown amount of time. And Gibbs had a suspicion that it wouldn't be as easy as some would assume for him to put the team back together.

Standing in the doorway, he watched the younger man in surprise for Tony was not gulping or sipping alcohol as Gibbs had assumed. Instead he was standing by a freshly brewed pot of coffee. Two mugs stood on the counter next to a bottle of Irish whiskey. The lid of the bottle sat nearby on the counter and Gibbs knew it was because Tony had most likely poured a healthy splash of liquid into one of the mugs.

"I brewed a fresh pot."

Gibbs didn't bother to question how Tony knew he was standing there. His lover's instincts were finely honed. Were it not for the physical differences, Gibbs knew that based on skill alone, Tony could easily have passed for a Marine. He watched as Tony poured the dark, steaming brew into each mug and then turned, placing them both at the small café counter height table and taking a seat on one of the stools.

"Been thinking…"

Gibbs used the comment as an opening, moving to slide onto a stool next to Tony. Wrapping his hands around the hot porcelain, he stared at the other man and arched his eyebrow.

I'm going to miss how little he speaks but how much is said. Tony thought as he spoke.

"Agent afloats are normally assigned for a couple of years. Wish I had the time to properly close this place."

"It won't be that long, Tony."

"You can't promise that – not this time, Jethro."

Gibbs opened his mouth before closing it again. As he was so often, Tony was right. No matter how much he wanted to promise, to give a specific amount time that Tony would be gone, he knew he couldn't. He had to figure out what Vance's true motive was first and he wasn't even sure how long that would take or how to begin.

"Look….I'll be fine out there. You're going to need to focus on the Probie, getting him released from cyber land before he becomes one of the Borg or something."

Tony's already bright smile became wider and brighter as he spotted the small grin growing over Gibbs' mouth. Pleasure over his lover having gotten a movie reference fueled his tongue.

"And then there's Zee-vah. If you don't get her back pronto, it'll be like being back at square one, reprogramming our little assassin and having to put up with her idiom butchering all over again!" Tony shivered as if to emphasize his disgust at the mere thought. "We've almost got her trained, Jethro. Think of all the time we'd lose…"

Voice trailing off, Tony let his eyes meet Gibbs' as the weight of what he'd just said sunk into his thoughts.

Several weeks later…

Tony sat on the edge of his bunk, carefully wrapping the small statue in a shirt he'd purchased before he placed them in the box he had managed to acquire. He knew the exact spot on Gibbs' bookshelf that he wanted to place the statue. A small grin escaped as his agile mind recalled the items on the particular shelf. He knew it would look best there, reflecting the light from the nearby window whenever Gibbs opened the blinds. Jethro would disagree and have a different spot in mind, undoubtedly. But that was also part of the reason behind holding the box back instead of shipping it at the same time he sent the brightly colored postcard to Abby that he'd already written a brief note on.

Scooting back on the bed, Tony leaned against the wall. He hadn't been this tired in a while. Normally he was mostly bored tired but the last several days had seen him physically tired – after a full day's work. Threat assessments weren't the most exciting task ever but they beat the normal monotony of life on a ship at sea. Especially when he'd been able to pick up a couple of things for Abby and Jethro. Tony closed his eyes, letting his mind drift back to the last time he'd seen either his best friend or his lover.

After a too late night, it seemed as if the early morning buzz of the alarm clock was over the top annoying and extra painful. A blind, fingertip search for the snooze button seemed to take an eternity but the blissful silence that followed led to a drawn out, quiet sigh. Tony was settling back to sleep when a warm arm encircled his waist.

'Wish we could just stop time.'

A mumbled grunt was all he got in reply.

'Guess we should get the morning started.'

He'd pulled away before he lost his nerve and moved into the bathroom to shower. When he came out ten minutes later, he'd expected to find the other man still in bed but instead found him standing in front of the closet perusing the remainder of Tony's wardrobe – the items being left behind.

'Double checking what I packed?' he whispered.

Jethro shook his head. 'No, actually planning a raid.'

'I don't get it.'

When he turned around, Tony saw that he was holding a couple of shirts and a tie. Gibbs shrugged, obviously embarrassed.

'Just wanted a couple of things close by to remind me of you.'

Tony nodded slightly and then walked over to the bag he'd packed. He unzipped it and moved items around carefully, not wanting to disturb them too much. He pulled out and quickly unrolled what turned out to be a pair of sweatpants and an NIS t-shirt. He ducked his head before shoving them back in his bag.

Gibbs placed his items on the chair near the closet before reaching into his pocket.

'Wanted to know if you'd keep an eye on these for me, while you're gone.'

He pulled a chain out of his pocket & slipped it around Tony's neck.

Reaching up, Tony reached for the dog tags that had stayed on his neck since Gibbs put them there. Circumstances had driven them apart and were proving more difficult than any had imagined in reuniting him with the person who mattered most in his life as well as the team that was his family. But he still held them all in his heart until he saw them again.