WOW! The response to chapter one was INCREDIBLE! Thank you all so much! Tissue Warning for this chapter if you're anything near as sentimental as me. I bawled writing pretty much the entire first half of it. Much love!
Chapter Two
Gibbs stood in the middle of the playground parking lot next door to the house that their crime scene had just taken place at. Tim and Ziva had left without him, unable to approach him. He watched the caution tape billowing in the breeze as he waited for the ability to move. How had it gotten this bad? His first crime scene with Tony since he'd left the agency, and he was so incapable of retaining his professionalism that Fornell had gone off on him, suggesting he turn the case over.
He knew that was what he should have been concerning himself with, but all he could think about was the cold stare that Tony had given him when their eyes met, and the edge to his ex's voice as he'd said his name- well, his last name. He had loved the way 'Jethro' sounded coming from Tony's lips, whether it be with laughter, when they were making love, or his favorite, when he was falling asleep or waking up, usually with the words, 'I love you" preceding them.
He wondered if he would ever hear anyone say his name like that again, then realized that he didn't want to. He'd had a true second chance at happiness, and he'd blown it. He ached in that way that reminded him of losing Shannon; that way that he now knew as losing Tony.
With Shannon, there was no way to fix it. She was gone, and there wasn't anything anyone could do to bring her back. He'd been too stubborn with Tony. He'd waited a year, and Tony didn't come back. He didn't understand what was taking so long. When he sat alone six months later on his back porch with his third beer, he finally admitted to himself that he was the one that had made the mistake.
He stood in the parking lot, a light drizzle starting, the wind picking up and whipping it against his face as he let his mind go back to that day.
He sat on his back steps, remembering two years earlier, when his yard had been filled with the people he loved; his team, his family. They couldn't stand to be around him anymore, and he couldn't blame them. He was constantly angry in a way that he hated, and nothing made him happy. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed. Tony had always made him laugh, especially that night in the park. That's when he decided that he was going to go to the park.
He packed the other three beers and a brand new bottle of bourbon into a cooler. He went upstairs and pulled that old blanket out of the closet, and headed for the door. He reached for his keys and hesitated. Deciding that he'd had too much, and that he had no intentions of driving home, he called a cab. Half an hour later, he was heading for that spot that he and Tony had discovered behind some overgrown hedges on a hillside.
That's where he was when his phone rang six hours later. He didn't bother looking at it the first time it rang, and he didn't even realize it had kept ringing for an hour afterwards. Had he bothered, he would have seen calls from McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky and the Director. He was in no position to work a case anyway.
He was surprised when a long while later, a hand landed on his shoulder, and Ducky dropped down onto the blanket next to him.
"You've got everyone quite worried about you, Jethro." When Ducky looked, he saw all of the tell-tale signs of the tears Gibbs had been crying. "You seem a bit out of sorts, my friend." He kept his tone a bit lighter than he felt like making it, knowing that his companion was in a desperate enough place to be considered unpredictable.
"Yeahhhhh…" he said, more breath than voice, drawing it out. Ducky nodded, waiting.
"I really fucked up, Duck," Gibbs' glazed eyes stared out over the city lights.
"What do you want me to say? I'm sure we've all made that quite clear to you since the day Anthony kicked you out of Abigail's lab." Ducky's voice was colder now, knowing that any platitude would be a dishonor to their friendship.
"Yeah, and now I've lost you all. The only people… I've pushed you all away. I don't think this is fixable, Doc." Gibbs felt the constriction in his chest again, and swallowed hard.
"Are you even going to try, Jethro?" Ducky turned his eyes back to the bloodshot blue eyes that had finally turned to meet him.
"I don't deserve to, but if you'll let me, I'll try. In all honesty, I'll probably fail. Never have been good with relationships, of any sort." He lifted his bottle to his mouth for another drink, and Ducky reached out to snag it, dumping it in the grass next to him as Gibbs looked on in shock.
"I hate to do this Jethro, but I must insist. You need to talk to someone. I don't care to whom you speak, but if you don't get some of this out of your head soon, I'm afraid that you're going to find yourself without employment. The Director, your team, not to mention Abigail and myself, were quite worried tonight. This is not like you.
"When Abigail traced your phone, and saw that this is where you were, she indulged me with the more detailed story of how you and Anthony had finally come to be together. I volunteered to come locate you, sending Mister Palmer to the site along with Balboa's team who ended up taking the case. In order to keep this off of the record, I'll be putting you on medical leave for the rest of the week."
Gibbs' eyes blazed. "What?!"
"Can you think of another way to keep it off of your record that while on call, I had to come out here to retrieve you, where I found you intoxicated and severely depressed? You're lucky I don't ask for your weapon, for God's sake! Jethro, I barely know you anymore, and I especially have never known you to not answer your phone for a case. Therefore, I must insist that you take leave until Monday. I don't care if you go to Mexico, build a fleet in your basement, go hide in the mountains, whatever you desire, but you must evaluate your life, and whether or not you're going to try to rejoin the living before you run out of time." Ducky looked at his friend's face and saw that the tears were streaming down it again. He had only seen Gibbs cry once, and that was when he had amnesia and had to be told that his wife and daughter were dead. Then, it was an angry crying, deep with despair and loss. What he saw now was no different. He rested his hand on Gibbs' shoulder, squeezing a little comfortingly.
"So, it was the fireworks that did it, eh?" he asked, hoping to get a bit out into the open.
Gibbs actually chuckled the merest laugh, and smiled, wiping his eyes. "Yeah, he wanted to come see the fireworks. Almost didn't go. Hell, took him forever to talk me into it. Just the smile on his face when I finally agreed to go made the whole night worth it, but there was just something so… perfect about watching him watch the fireworks. He looked so happy, like no one had ever told him he wasn't enough, like he didn't have a care in the world or a scar from his past."
"He looked that way quite often over those six months," Ducky said without really thinking, lost in the memory of watching his two friends together at various team get-togethers during their bliss.
"Yeah, he did. And then I had to go and fuck it all up." Gibbs started heaving in silent sobs. Ducky pulled him to him, letting Gibbs' head rest on his shoulder.
The next day, Gibbs had woken up hung over on his couch where Ducky had dumped him. He felt absolutely ridiculous. He spent the next five days locked up in his house, the door bolted shut.
Now here he was, three months later, unsure if he'd managed to make any improvement with his team, and standing in a parking lot at a crime scene he couldn't walk away from, drenched and cold. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't keep living in such empty pain. He finally walked to his car and got in. He had someone he had to talk to.
The sky had lightened into a dark, thick gray that a rainy morning tended to bring, as he slowly drove through the cemetery. He hadn't been here in two years, unable to face his girls after fucking up his chance for a second shot at happiness. He parked his car in the usual place, and got out. His shoes sloshed through the damp grass as he headed for the pine tree near where he knew two headstones would bear the name Gibbs.
The rain started coming down in a torrential downpour so dense that he wasn't able to see more than a few yards in front of him, but he moved towards that tree. Once he got there, he ducked down, sitting below the branches against the trunk. He was still getting wet, but he was able to open his eyes and stare at the place where the girls rested. He hoped that he was close enough to feel the comfort that visiting them would bring him as he started telling them his story.
"Hey Shannie. Hey Kelly-bear. You're probably mad at me too because I haven't been to see you, and that's okay, I get it. I just… needed someone to talk to. You remember me telling you that, of all things, I'd gone and fallen in love with a guy? My Second, Tony? Well…" he let a deep, wavering breath escape from his chest. "Well, our boss found out about it. We were called up to his office, and he sat us down, and he said, that we either had to give up our relationship, or one of us had to give up our job.
"We hadn't really been concerned about it. Other agents are married, date, live together, sleep together, but… apparently none of them are boss and subordinate. I guess that I thought that even if it were a rule, we'd never be called on it, because, well, we'd worked together so long, and our close rate was only getting better, and our team was only getting closer, and Leon and I were supposed to be getting to be friends, so I didn't think he'd do this to us if we kept it outside of work.
"Guess I was wrong.
"I didn't know what to do. I've been at NCIS almost twent years now, since a year after I lost you two. I knew that if I offered to take early retirement, Vance would never've let Tony take the team lead position, he has some kind of problem with him, I don't know, and I couldn't imagine my people under someone else. And you know how badly I'd screwed up with the last few attempts to replace you guys. But I was wrong- this time, it really was different. I was really happy." Gibbs' eyes and nose burnt, and he wiped away the stray tear that threatened to fall. "I didn't… I didn't fight for him. I should have. I shouldn't have let him go, shouldn't have let him get away. And he did. I was… Abby was right, I was scared. Now he's not even on my team anymore, and I've pushed everyone else out of my life, and I hate who I've become, and I'm so sorry that I've let you down." He could feel some kind of knot that was in his chest, something he'd been carrying around for almost two years now, unravel.
"I'm here because I am about to throw myself into the fire. I need to make things right. I might not get to come out of this happy. At this point though, I'd be good with just "okay". So I'm going for "okay", and I've come to ask you guys to stick with me while I try. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and you both know how much I hate talking about feelings, so I need you. I need you to help me find the words when the time comes. I need for you to be there for me now, so that I can learn to be there for them again. I'll probably never get Tony to love me again, but if he just didn't hate me, then maybe I could be okay. If Abby, and Tim, and Ziva, and Ducky didn't look at me like I had ruined everything, then maybe… just maybe I'll be okay. I need to fix this. I don't have a clue at how I'm going to, but I am going to."
He felt his resolve strengthen, and stared at the twin headstones in front of him, feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time- hope. That little bit of hope gave him a sense of determination he hadn't felt in just as long. He crawled out from under the tree, and as he did, the rain stopped. He was still drenched, and cold, and soggy, but the rain had stopped. He looked down at where his girls lay, and smirked. "Thanks, Shannie. Thanks Kelly-bear."
((((NCIS))))((((NCIS))))((((NCIS))))
Tony woke up by his alarm clock. His eyes were crusted over with the salty tears he had been crying when he fell asleep. He rubbed them away, unsure of what he would tell Ja'Rell when he gave him a hard time about how red his eyes were, and as he took a second look at himself in the mirror, he half expected Fornell to ask to smell his breath or even breathalyze him. God, if ever there was a time for a drink, he thought. He rubbed his hands against his face, splashing water on them. With a fresh spin on a case they were so deep in, he knew he wouldn't make it to a meeting for a couple of days. Looks like I'll be calling Dale tonight instead, he thought, making a mental note to call his sponsor.
As he brushed his teeth and worked on his hair, he thought about possibly calling Meghan and setting up some time with her as well. He hoped that the case would be enough to distract him from thinking about Gibbs, but if anything broke, (and knowing his old team, it would,) then he would end up working directly with his ex. That could end up blind-sighting the poor woman, and he had promised her he wouldn't show up randomly on her couch anymore. She had reminded him that he was welcome whenever he felt he needed it, but they were down to talking once a month officially. His last appointment was only four days ago. There was no way this would keep another three and a half weeks.
He slipped on a fresh suit, and scooped his phone up. He dialed Meghan as he rummaged for something resembling food in the fridge.
"Dr. Meghan Feldman," she answered.
"Hi, Meghan. It's Tony."
"Tony! Hey! How's it going?" she asked.
"Been better," he said, pulling the milk out and taking a sniff before putting it back into the fridge with a grimace. "Had a case wake me up last night, got to the scene, and Gibbs was there."
"Oh, shit. That's big." Tony couldn't hold back the smile that brought to his face. It was exactly why he was okay with going to talk to Meghan. She kept things real.
"Yeah, you're telling me," he answered, shutting the fridge and searching the cabinets for something to satisfy his growling stomach.
"Well?" she asked.
Tony was kind of surprised. She almost never wanted to discuss anything on the phone. She was on the FBI's dime, so it wasn't that, it was just that she preferred to read people's expressions. This must have been juicy for her in order to ask.
"Well… it sucked. He was there, and I wasn't ready, and I was…" Tony closed the cabinet door and leaned against the counter, his hand going to rub the tension from his forehead. "I took one look into his incredibly sad blue eyes, and everything in me tried to come apart. Everything I've worked my ass of for this year, trying to get over him, working past it, just everything. I held it together while I was there. I was kind of cold to him, but went on with the case. Talked to my old friends, and…"
"And?" she asked quietly in response to the sad tone in his voice as he trailed off.
"I missed them. And they told me that something happened to Gibbs on the Fourth of July that's had him acting differently, and they won't tell me what. It has me worried, and I don't want to be worried damn it!" Tony felt the anger swelling inside of him at the way Gibbs had managed to get under his skin just by saying his name and looking at him. "I want to stay pissed! I feel stronger when I'm mad at him! When I'm angry, I'm determined, and I don't drink, and I don't cry myself to sleep like I did four hours ago when I got home. I…" his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "I don't want to care about him, Meghan."
"But you do."
"Yeah, I do," he admitted. "Damn it! Why does this have to be so damned complicated! Why can't he just…"
"Just what?"
"Why couldn't he have just talked it through with me then? Okay, so he had doubts! Of course he had doubts, we've both had some pretty messed up relationships, but did he have to give up like that?"
"Tony, your entire life, you had people telling you that you weren't good enough for one reason or another. You've told me yourself that Gibbs was the one person in the world that had ever made you feel worthwhile. I think you need to ask yourself a couple of things. First, was it Gibbs that made you feel that you had worth, or was it the attributes he brought out in you? Second, is that why you feel like you still need to care about him? Because he always cared about you? Or is it because you still want things to be repaired between the two of you? Not necessarily as lovers," she said, cutting off Tony's effrontery, "But as civil people towards one another on cases, or maybe, one day, being friends again?"
Tony sighed heavily. "I'm not sure I'm going to have time to think about any of those questions. I'm due in in about five minutes, and I'm still at home."
"I'll shoot Fornell a message. It's important that you figure this out." She could almost hear Tony nodding on the other end. "You going to make it to a meeting today?" she asked.
"Probably not because of the case, but I'll find some time to sneak away and call my sponsor." He knew that Dale took the Anonymous part of AA as seriously as the Alcoholic part of it, and he had never revealed his name to Meghan out of that courtesy. She had commented on it once, and commended his honor. That's when she admitted to him that she went to the meetings closer to her house rather than the office. They'd bonded.
"Okay. Make sure you do. Don't make me come kick your ass!" she joked, and he laughed.
"Thanks, Meghan."
"Hey, I'm free Friday at 1. Come by and fill me in." Tony smiled at her casualness.
"Will do!"
"See ya then."
"See ya then."
(((NCIS)))NCIS(((NCIS)))NCIS(((NCIS)))
Gibbs stopped at his house to change his clothes into something that wouldn't induce pneumonia, and he left his car in the garage with the windows down to dry out. He grabbed the keys to the truck off of the hook by the door, and slipped his badge back into his pocket. He took a deep breath.
I can do this. What would I have done two years ago, when Tony was with me? He considered the question in and of itself. Do I want to be who I was when Tony and I were still together, or do I want to be who I was before we got together? He thought about how much happier he was when they were together, how much better his team was when he was happy. He would never be able to be happy with Tony again, but he could be happy with his team. He could win them back. They would probably never been completely open to things being the way they were, but he could do his part to try.
He took a deep breath and nodded to himself. Breakfast and coffee it is.
When Gibbs pulled up to the office he had an assortment of stuff sitting next to him on the seat. He couldn't remember what anyone took in their coffee anymore. The only thing special he had remembered was that Ziva like that chai stuff. He hoped she liked it hot, because he never remembered there being an option for iced last time he went through Starbucks for anything other than a double shot in an extra-strong dark roast. He had more creams and sugars next to him than he would have ever thought anyone needed. He grabbed the drink tray and the assortment of danishes, and headed for the elevator.
He got off at the bullpen and wandered over to find McGee and Ziva standing in front of the plasma, looking through the files for their victim. He was young, but what caught Gibbs' attention was the commendation list. He had a lot of promise, and now he was gone. He took a deep breath, and let it out. Ziva and Tim both turned to him, startled. They had not heard him come in, and honestly, both had resigned to the idea that he wasn't going to. They were equally startled to find him holding coffee and breakfast. They looked at each other and the tray of coffee, then Gibbs.
"Had to go talk to someone. Take these. What do we know so far?" Tim reached out and grabbed the tray of coffee, while Ziva grabbed the bag of danishes.
Ziva sat the danishes on Tony's old empty desk, then picked up the remote and flicked back to what they had started with. "Our victim was merely another in a string of senseless retaliation, or so it seems."
McGee handed the chai to Ziva, and took the remote. "There's a problem with that idea though. The vic's cousin had been a gun runner for the Giovanni ring, and when he snitched, he was given a shortened sentence by the FBI, but his first day in, he was killed."
"They probably knew that he would be, offered him the deal, got the info and then let nature take its course," Gibbs said as he stared at the screen. He'd done it on a few occasions himself; dealing with the devil, playing with loaded dice.
"Right, so why do the revenge killings continue? Justin Natoli is dead. Why continue killing off his family?" Tim asked, taking a drink of his coffee.
"How long ago was he shanked?" Gibbs asked.
Ziva flipped open a folder. "Looks like two weeks ago. No one else in his family is active in mobs or gangs that we could find. There wouldn't be any reason to kill these people."
"He didn't give them all of the info. He was holding something out from both sides, or someone thought he was. If these were really retaliation killings, they would be more personal, gory. They are simple shootings. They're trying to shut someone up before they can talk. Someone has information, and they might not even know they have it.
"Try to find any correspondence Natoli had with his cousin. See if there are any emails, chats that came into that ship that might have a coded message in it addressed to our vic. Ziva, go back to the aunt's house. Go through all of the bags that came home with him, see if there are any letters. Bring it all back. I'm going to go check in with Abby. Call me when you get something." Gibbs grabbed his cup of coffee from the drink carrier, and the tea he had gotten for Ducky. He was going to go talk to Abby, but he had a stop to make first.
As the elevator closed on him, Ziva and McGee turned to one another. "What just happened?" Tim asked.
"I do not know, but I would have to wager it had something to do with running into Tony today, yes?" Ziva said.
"I haven't seen him look like that in months," Tim said staring down at the cup in his hand. "And I don't remember the last time he brought us coffee."
"I don't think I've seen him that focused since Independence Day. And I don't think he's brought us coffee since he and Tony were together. I wonder who he talked to." Ziva grabbed the bag off of the empty desk and opened it up to pick something out.
"He's in different clothes, so he probably stopped home." Tim took the bag from Ziva after she'd selected her goodie, and took it back to his desk. He immediately started pulling up the systems he required in order to get the information they would need. Ziva nodded in affirmation, getting her things together to head out to the scene. He looked up at Ziva as she came around the desk to leave. "Call me when you get close?" he asked.
"As always," she said smiling at his concern. They had started calling one another as they approached sites that they were being sent to alone a little over a year ago. Ziva had walked into what was supposed to be a completely innocuous situation, to find herself taking on three guys that were sent to search for the same guy she had come to talk to. She came away without injury, but had to call in for backup. Since then, she had been constantly going through sparring partners, and training McGee, who was surprised to find himself getting better under her instruction. He still preferred to play meek and mild until a window of opportunity came open, but he'd rarely been put in the situation to need the skills this year.
"Talk to you then," he said, taking a large bite from his danish before getting to work on finding the files.
Ziva headed out, and she decided another call was necessary as she got to her car. She put her phone on the hands-free cradle, and hit Tony's speed dial. She didn't think he was going to answer as she backed out of the space, already considering what to leave on the voicemail. On the fifth ring, he answered. She knew immediately that he was also en route some place, his phone tinny in that way it got on speaker.
"Hey, Ziiiiivah! Miss me already?" he joked.
"Of course!" she joked. "I thought I would call and check in on you. I know you weren't expecting this morning to happen like it did, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Thanks," he said, a genuine smile gracing his face. "I actually have had better days, but I called Meghan this morning, and am going to try to sneak away for a meeting later, and if not make a call. I think I'm okay. Meghan gave me a lot to think about."
"That is good." She hesitated as she thought about what she wanted to say, but decided that saying it was probably the best choice to move things forward for all of them. "Gibbs was… well, strange this morning. He would not come back with us, and then when he finally showed up, only half an hour ago, he brought us coffee for the first time in over a year, and was wearing fresh clothes. He seemed different. Better than he has since this summer. I don't know, but maybe this case will allow some form of closure for you both, and you can move on."
Tony felt strange swirls of emotions in his entire body. His stomach flipped at the way he had affected Gibbs, his mind buzzed with a curious buzz as it tried to translate Gibbs' actions, and his chest ached at the idea of ever letting Jethro go. He swallowed hard. "Maybe."
"I'm sorry, Tony. I should not have said anything." Ziva cursed under her breath in Hebrew, driving somewhat slower than usual to allow her time to talk to her friend.
"No! I'm- I'm glad you did. Can I ask you something? I know you'll give me an honest answer." Tony knew that he was opening a can of worms, but he needed to ask.
"Of course," she said, dreading what she expected the question to be. "Just be sure that you really want to know the answer."
Tony nodded to himself, and took a deep breath. "I need to know what happened on July Fourth."
Ziva nodded to herself as she turned into the parking lot that Gibbs had been standing in earlier. She turned off the sedan and began the story.
"Well, we were being called out to a case, a little before midnight. We could not get ahold of Gibbs, so we met at the office. When we could not get ahold of him, they had to dispatch Balboa's team instead. The Director was not happy, and we all took turns calling his phone, but he would not answer. Ducky got us all together in the lab, and had Abby run a trace on his phone. He was in a park over on Central. Abby pulled Ducky aside, and told him something in her office with her door closed, and then Ducky left to go to Gibbs, telling us all that we should probably go home, that he would talk to the Director.
"We did not go home, but waited instead for him to return. When he did, hours later, we were informed that he had put Gibbs on medical leave for a week. We never found out exactly what had happened, but Ducky told us that he was finally coming to terms with everything that had happened between the two of you, and to let him be." Ziva reported everything from that day uninterrupted, and a little voice inside of her said to keep going.
"He has not been the same since. He has been quiet, pensive, almost lost. Before, he was angry, in denial, but he was still Gibbs. The past three months, he has been complacent. Until this morning that is. I have never seen him like he was this morning.
"First, he could not stop looking at you like you were a ghost, sad and broken-hearted, and then he would not come back to the office with us. He just stood there, staring at the crime scene. We could not find the courage to say anything to him, so we left him there. When he came back, he was changed somehow. He was focused, tired, but more present than he has been in months. I think confronting the fact that there is such a rift between the two of you this morning made him… wake up somehow."
Tony had pulled into the parking garage of the Hoover building. He sat there listening to Ziva talk about what Gibbs had been like the past three or four months, and then listened to what she said about how he reacted this morning. He again, wanted to feel smug about the fact that Gibbs was still hurting, but he knew that he couldn't, because Gibbs wasn't the only one.
It made him angry and sad. He wanted to know what had happened the night of the Fourth to put Gibbs on medical leave. He was more than a little worried. He wondered if perhaps Fornell knew, but judging by the way his confrontation with Gibbs went that morning, he doubted they had talked at all in the past year or so.
"Tony?" Ziva asked quietly.
"Yeah, I'm here. Just… thinking about it all. Thanks for telling me."
"I would have told you sooner, but you were doing so well finally, and I did not think it would have been wise to drag you around anymore than necessary."
"Down. Drag me down. And you're probably right. I'm a lot stronger though now, and I know that I can handle more. I'm starting to wonder if Gibbs will be able to though." There was silence on the other end of the phone that made him cringe, because it could only be an agreement to his sentiment. He decided to change the subject. "So where are you? Does he know you're talking to me?"
"I am actually back at the crime scene. I have been sent to retrieve letters and our Lieutenant's belongings." Ziva realized that Tim was probably worried sick by now that she hadn't called.
"Is McGee with you?" Tony asked, confused.
"No. Nobody is with me," she said looking around at the reminder of the vulnerability she was placed in.
"You're on a scene by yourself? Since when in the hell does Gibbs let that happen? It's against just about every protocol in the book!" Tony turned the key over in his ignition, pulling out of his spot to head over to the scene.
"There is no one to come with me now. Gibbs is working with Ducky and Abby on what their findings are, not to mention most likely explaining things to the Director about where he was this morning, and McGee is running down the electronic correspondence between the Lieutenant and his cousin. McGee and I have a process in place, and I'll have him on the line with me when I hang up with you before I approach the scene. Do not worry," she explained.
"I should be there in seven minutes or so. Just… just wait for me, will ya?" Tony turned another corner, shaking his head. He had no idea what he was doing, but he was furious that Gibbs would let either of them go out without a partner. What the hell was he thinking? he ranted in his head.
"You do not have to, Tony. It is not the first time, and it will not be the last," Ziva shrugged as she looked around, feeling a paranoia creep in suddenly that she passed off as Tony's concern wearing off on her.
"I'm already on the way. Just do me the favor, and wait. Something feels off about this, and I really don't like it." Tony got off of the exit that led into the neighborhood. "I just got off the exit, just wait."
"I'll wait, Tony. I'm going to call and let McGee know that you'll be joining me though so he does not worry. I'll see you when you get here." Ziva continued looking around, scanning the area in the dim rainy day light.
"Okay. I'll be there in a minute." Tony disconnected the call and slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. "Seriously, Jethro?!" he yelled. "You're that fucking stubborn that you can't replace me so that your team has someone to have their fucking backs?!"
Meanwhile, Ziva called McGee.
"It's about time you called! I was about to track your phone!" he said when he answered without even a hello.
"My apologies. I was on the phone with Tony, who is now on the way here to go into the building with me. I am afraid he is not happy with the fact that Gibbs has been letting us go out to scenes on our own, and he's quite… vehement about it," Ziva explained.
"Tony's meeting you? At least I'll know you're safe. Tell him I said hey, and thanks. I'm almost into the ship's mainframe, and am about to go hunting for any emails sent from terminals logged in under the Lieutenant. I'll be in touch. Let me know if you find anything." McGee suddenly saw the shadow cross his desk. "Got to go." He hung up the phone, and looked up into the probing stare of the Director.
"Agent DiNozzo is with Agent David? Doing what, may I ask?" he said, looking down at McGee with that glare that said he'd better answer quickly.
"Ziva went to retrieve the Lieutenant's belongings because we need to go through them, and Tony is helping her because we still don't have an agent to replace him, and he doesn't like that she was going in alone." McGee very tentatively shot a glance towards the elevator. This had unfortunately become the usual moment for Gibbs to appear. When the elevator doors stayed shut, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Vance sighed too, but not in relief. "He's not going to let anyone else on his team, is he?" The sudden resignation in Vance's voice didn't bode well for Gibbs, and McGee knew it. He had to say something, and fast.
"He's waiting for the right person to fill the spot. Unfortunately, when any of us think of the right person, we only think of Tony. He's not the only one who doesn't want some random person trying to fill Tony's shoes." Tim knew he was late in voicing the opinion, but it was true.
"Is that so?" Vance asked, only slightly intimidating as Tim's frustration started causing a long simmering rage to come to the surface.
"It is. It has taken us years to develop the trust we have in one another. We've lived through moles, war games, double agents, cars blowing up, being sent to the four corners of the agency, and we've always come back together, stronger and better than before. This is just another test of that trust. There's just a bigger hurdle in the way this time." Tim looked Vance in the eyes, giving him a cold stare that would rival Gibbs', ready to take whatever was thrown at him. He was tired of living like this, and he blamed Gibbs for their separation, but he blamed Vance just as much. The Director had no business bitching about the best team in NCIS history falling apart since he's the one that initiated it in the first place.
"And I'm the hurdle," Vance said.
"The past is the hurdle. There were many people that had their hands in creating the situation we're in today, but they all came together that day in your office. Tony's past, Gibbs' past… they were finally getting over it. It was a fragile thing. Incredible, I might even say beautiful thing, but fragile. And now here we are."
Vance saw the condemning look in McGee's eyes, and turned to walk away. He had always felt that McGee was the weakling of the team, the easiest to push around, but for some reason, the look in the kid's eyes just now made him feel like he was being scolded by his father. When he looked over the railing of the stairs on the way to his office, and he saw McGee shaking his head as he went back to work, he felt twice as bad.
He'd felt betrayed and dishonored when he found out that Gibbs and DiNozzo had been sleeping together for six months. He had called them up after spending a day in fury, overhearing McGee and Ms. Scuito arguing in the lab about what they were going to be bringing to DiNozzo's apartment for movie night. Abby had told McGee not to worry about there being too much beer since Gibbs was around now to help DiNozzo drink it. Being followed up with a comment on how attractive they were together sealed the deal for him.
He'd called them into the office the next day. He'd been angry, and he took that anger out on them in the worst way possible- he threatened them, and made them choose. He tried to tell himself that he had revealed a toxic flaw in their relationship that they would have eventually had to of dealt with anyway, and that because of that flaw, their relationship would have been doomed. The looks on both of their faces as they sat there though, were permanently etched into his brain.
He had that sinking feeling that he had done just what McGee had confirmed for him- he'd ruined something important for both of them. He knew Gibbs' past was riddled with heartache, and when he had lost Jackie, Gibbs had been there for him. What a way to repay him, he thought, the condemnation now coming from within openly.
He looked down at the photo of Jackie on his desk, and shook his head. Jackie had liked both Gibbs and DiNozzo. DiNozzo had always rubbed him the wrong way, but if he was what Gibbs needed, then he needed to find a way to get them in touch again. He was going to have to ask DiNozzo to come back to the team. He started plotting.
He knew that DiNozzo was going to the crime scene with Agent David. Maybe that was the key to the whole mess. He knew that Gibbs had been sending out his agents on small tasks alone, despite protocol. It wasn't anything he had been too worried about, but from the sounds of it, DiNozzo didn't like it. He was going to have to keep an eye on this case, and make sure he could step in at the right moment.
Just need the right moment, and the right incentive, he thought. And this hell will all pass. Hopefully.