Come Monday morning, Gibbs still couldn't decide what he should do about the letters. On the plus side, he reasoned, Tony had never delivered any of the resignation letters. On the negative side, his conscience told him, he had felt the need to write them in the first place. With no firm decision made, he decided to follow his gut. If Tony guessed that he had read the letters, they could deal with it then. If he didn't guess, then perhaps Gibbs would just have to try to be 'nicer' to him although that didn't have a great track record of success either. He got himself an extra large cup of super strength coffee and braced himself for Tony's return.
There was an air of anticipation in the squad room as people waited for Tony to arrive although Tim and Ziva would probably have denied that they were looking forward to hearing about Tony's exploits. Ducky, Abby and Jimmy were less diffident but didn't openly admit to having manufactured excuses for being in the squad room when there were no active cases to report on. None of them had long to wait. The elevator dinged and Tony emerged looking tired but with a happy smile on his face. Gibbs looked up briefly but then looked away, uncertain about how to greet him.
Tony opened his arms wide at the sight of all his co-workers,
"Greetings! Here you all are, gathered to welcome the conquering hero home. Probie, I have so much to tell you, to advance your education. Probette, I have just had a true American experience: if you weren't already an American citizen I would have let you come and make notes, it would have stood you in good stead for your citizenship tests. Abby, I took photos, as requested, of the bowling facilities for you to share with Sister Rosita and the girls. Ducky, Palmer, you will be pleased to know that I did not make any inspections of the excellent medical facilities but I had some very interesting conversations with one of my fellow students who is now ME in her home town – I didn't realise what coroners got up to in their spare time." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Boss I..."
"... probably didn't do anything I'd find at all interesting," interrupted Gibbs. He realised immediately that he'd done it again, trying for humor he'd unintentionally pricked the happiness balloon in one fell swoop. Before he could open his mouth to try and fix things, Ducky said philosophically,
"Quite right, Jethro, we shouldn't be gossiping up here at the taxpayers' expense. Come on, Mr Palmer, I fear there are some gruesome gobbets awaiting our attention downstairs. Good to see you back, Anthony. Cheerio everyone. Come along Abigail."
Abby agreed,
"Major Mass Spec is calling for me," she said mournfully, "I'm sooo glad you're back, Tony," as she draped her arms around his neck. Ducky gently disentangled her and pulled her away, "Byeee ... send me those photos."
"They're on their way," promised Tony, then with a look at Gibbs he added, "or rather, they will be at the end of the working day."
Gibbs cleared his throat, "You been home yet, DiNozzo?"
Tony looked a bit defensive,
"Er, no. I stayed overnight with a buddy in Baltimore and drove in this morning. But it was planned, I had my work clothes with me and I'm well rested," the effect was spoiled by a huge yawn, "well, nothing that some caffeine won't sort out", he added.
Gibbs didn't know what to say. This meant that Tony might not know about his neighbour's leak and almost certainly that he did not know about Gibbs' visit. He thought it might be better to tell Tony about the water damage but at that moment his phone rang,
"Yeah, Gibbs. On my way."
The rest of the team looked up expectantly.
"Director wants me in MTAC. DiNozzo, finish these reports". He dumped the paperwork, unfinished over the weekend, on Tony's desk.
"I thought you were going to do them this weekend, Boss," said Tony, "did something more appealing come up? Er, none of my business, getting on with the reports," he finished after getting a look at Gibbs' face. Gibbs swept away thinking grimly that something indeed had 'come up.' Director Vance was surprised how co-operative Gibbs was during their four hour meeting about some external audit results, agreeing rather distractedly to almost everything he suggested. When Gibbs descended the stairs after the meeting ended it was to find that his team had gone to lunch. He sat down glumly and stared moodily at the neat pile of completed reports sitting on his desk. Was it possible, he wondered, for a pile of papers to look reproachful? He started leafing through the reports but was distracted each time he saw Tony's handwriting because he remembered the other words he had seen in Tony's hand that weekend.
He sighed and put his head in his hands,
"You all right, Boss?" came Tony's concerned voice.
"Why wouldn't I be?" said Gibbs gruffly even as he accepted the cup of coffee and bacon sandwich which was placed on his desk.
"No reason," said Tony, "thought perhaps you'd had a rough time with the Director."
Gibbs was about to make one of his trademark curt replies but thought better of it and just shook his head. He saw Tony's look of concern deepen and he sighed. He didn't know what to say so took refuge in a sip of his coffee and a bite of the sandwich.
"You forgot the sauce," he said and then cursed inwardly at his lack of gratitude. "Thanks," he muttered just as McGee said,
"Sorry, Boss, that was me. I got the sandwich but forgot to tell them how you like it."
"That's OK, Tim, thanks," he said and then thought, " great. I moaned at Tony and thanked Tim."
The afternoon went by slowly. Gibbs decided he was safer saying nothing so retreated into even more silence than usual. The others were tense, noticing that Gibbs seemed barely able to look at Tony although several times he seemed about to say something but then thought better of it. It was barely 5pm when Gibbs dismissed his team for the day,
"All right. Go home all of you."
Tony, Tim and Ziva sighed with relief and Tony yawned. Tim chuckled,
"Your busy weekend catching up with you, Tony?"
"Can't cut the mayonnaise at your age, Tony?" teased Ziva.
Before Tony could leap to his own defence and correct Ziva's idiom, Gibbs intervened,
"DiNozzo's entitled to be tired. He's worked hard today."
The others looked at each other in astonishment. Tony opened his mouth, probably to say thank you but he was too late. Gibbs had swept past in a swirl of greatcoat and coffee.
Tony shook his head, he wondered if he should pay a visit to Gibbs' basement that evening and work out what was rattling his cage this time. The visit didn't happen. When Tony got home it was to find a note from the building supervisor explaining about the leak and that Martha Goodde, his upstairs neighbour, had gone away for a few days while her apartment dried out and some repairs were made. Tony spent the rest of the evening checking for his own damage and phoning his insurance company. He sat down on his couch when he had finished and promptly fell asleep – it had, after all, been a very busy weekend!
NCISNCIS
By the time Friday arrived the Major Crimes Response Team was very jumpy. Gibbs had continued in a strange mood all week: silent most of the time and especially reluctant to speak to Tony. He also seemed unable to look Tony in the eye but at other times, Tony would look up from his work to find Gibbs staring intently at him. Gibbs felt he was living on the edge of a cliff, a cliff that he suspected might crumble beneath his feet at any moment. He couldn't understand why Tony hadn't mentioned the water damage but didn't feel able to ask him about it directly.
As the end of the working week approached Tony and Gibbs were left alone in the squad room. Tony seemed to come to a decision and came and stood before Gibbs' desk,
"Boss, have I done something to annoy you? I mean, more than normal. I know I always annoy you but you usually manage to tune it out but something seems to have been off ever since I came in on Monday. I'm sorry if I seemed tired on Monday but I was all right really. Boss, are you OK?"
"I'm fine, DiNozzo. What about you? Are you all right? Nothing on your mind?"
"Me? I'm fine, Boss. Never been better. Had a great weekend, it was good to meet up with everyone," he leaned forward and said conspiratorially, "don't tell McJunior and Ziva but, it's so relaxing to spend time with people your own age. You know, you 'get' the same things, had the same experiences, the same memories ... it just works. Sorry, Boss, you don't want to know about that. You're sure nothing's wrong? OK, I'll be off then. See you Monday - unless we get called in, of course." Tony backed away from Gibbs' desk as he spoke and then made his way to the elevator.
Gibbs went home shortly afterwards resolving to have a soothing night making something out of wood. He wasn't sure what, but he needed a time of reflection planing something rough into silky smooth perfection. Perhaps it would do the same with his gut.
Three hours later Gibbs was beginning to relax. He had settled for making a bench for the garden. What DiNozzo would call 'bench, basement and bourbon'. He had cut the seat out and was now sanding it down, finding comfort in the rhythmic strokes and hoping that the physical effort would tire him out so he could finally get a good night's sleep. His move towards contentment was interrupted when he heard his front door opening and someone coming in. He looked up with a frown of annoyance as someone came down the stairs and then tried to clear his expression when he saw his visitor was Tony carrying a pizza and some beer.
"Hey, Boss. What you making?"
"Bench," said Gibbs, wondering how to deal with being alone with Tony.
"I found out tonight why you've been mad at me all week," said Tony, "thought I'd come round and apologise. Bought your favorite pizza and that beer you like."
Gibbs froze. He took a sip of his bourbon. "What are you apologising for, DiNozzo?"
Tony didn't seem to notice the slightly odd emphasis in Gibbs' words and said, as he opened the pizza box and handed it to Gibbs,
"I saw Martha this evening."
"Martha?" queried Gibbs.
"Martha Goodde. She has the apartment above mine. She's been away for a few days."
"Aahh," said Gibbs.
"Boss, you should have said something. I feel awful."
"You feel awful?" said Gibbs.
Again, Tony didn't seem to notice the emphasis on 'you'.
"Martha told me that she called you last weekend and that you came over to the apartment and checked for damage. Gibbs, you must have thought I was really ungrateful but honestly, I didn't know. I got back to a message from the super and I assumed ... and I know that's against the rules – I assumed he'd done the sorting out and tidying."
Gibbs chewed on a piece of pizza and deliberately took a long time over it as he waited for the other shoe to drop. Tony continued,
"It was nice of you to bother, Boss. Giving up your weekend like that. And then I sniped at you for not having got the reports done".
"It was no problem, Tony. Ms Goodde sounded real panicky on the phone, it was the least I could do."
"Still, you must have thought I was really ungrateful, not even mentioning it".
"Nope," said Gibbs. "How's the desk thingy?"
"The bureau? Not too bad. It was already a bit bashed up. It was Nonno DiNozzo's, you know. He did all his business from that desk but he always had sweets stashed there for when the grandchildren came visiting". Tony sighed happily and took a bite out of his pizza.
"Are your papers OK?", continued Gibbs.
"Some of them are a bit mussed up but nothing major."
Gibbs nodded. He looked at Tony who seemed genuinely to have come just because he wanted to thank Gibbs and not because he wanted to lay into him for reading his letters. As he watched, however, a puzzled look arrived on Tony's face.
"So, if you weren't mad about coming over to my place, what's been bugging you all week? Honestly, Boss, I know you don't approve of college reunions but, unlikely as it seems, we behaved like the responsible adults we've accidentally become. And you know, what I do in my free time is my business."
Gibbs stared at him and something in that look must have set alarms going in Tony's mind.
"Sorry, Boss. I don't why I said that but I have to say, you've really got me spooked here. Perhaps I should go. Thanks again, Boss. I'll see you Monday. Good luck with that bench, looks nice. Bye."
And with that he was gone, jogging up the stairs leaving Gibbs with a congealing pizza and a beer going flat. Gibbs waited till he heard the front door close and then threw the beer bottle at his new bench and then swore as the alcohol stained the wood.
