Title: Road Trip
by: rose malmaison
Characters: DiNozzo, Gibbs
Genre: Gen, friendship, pre-show (1991-1993)
Rating: PG/teen
Warnings: Language, hint of earlier physical abuse
Spoilers: None

Chapter 2 - Golden Lands

But why think about that when all the golden lands ahead of you and all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see?

~ Jack Kerouac

August, 1991, Cincinnati, Ohio

After the Reds game was over they stayed seated, waiting for the worst of the crowds to dissipate. Tony leaned back in his seat, enjoying the heat from the sun, just feeling good with Gibbs at his side. "Thanks for bringing me to the game," Tony said to Gibbs, who shrugged it off as if it were nothing. Tony knew better; Gibbs had been looking forward to this outing as much as he had.

"I also have to thank you for talking to my boss," Tony said, looking sideways at Gibbs. Gibbs frowned as if he didn't have any recollection of what Tony was referring to so Tony prodded Gibbs to make him meet his eyes. "I was sure by the time I got back here my job would've been given to someone else. I mean, there had to have been fifty other applicants, so I was lucky to get it in the first place. The sports center's pay is good and I can pretty much make my own hours, plus they'd already lined me up to teach two classes. Battling Babes is one of them," Tony said with a grin.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Where do I sign up?"

Tony laughed aloud. "It's a self-defense course for women," he admitted.

"Seems like you're the perfect guy for the job, Tony."

"It's okay. They can get overly enthusiastic at times, though. You should've seen how vicious some of them were when I told them they could attack the mugger (that was me) freely. Good thing I was wearing a padded protection suit." Tony looked at Gibbs sideways and said, "Anyway, when I got back from New York, I was sure they would have hired someone else. They hadn't and my boss was really understanding, which was sort of weird. Don't get me wrong; he's a nice guy and all, but he's always watching the bottom dollar, you know? So I walk in and he tells me that he held the job because he knew I was going to be an outstanding employee."

"You got a problem with that?"

Tony shook his head slowly. "No, but what I think he was really saying was that he expected I'd work my ass off and teach the self-defense course because none of the other guys who work there will do it, and because someone called him and told him it would be in his best interest to keep me on the payroll. Now I know for a fact my dad wouldn't do that so…"

"Sounds more like he knows not to waste good," Gibbs said, shrugging it off. "And he doesn't need me to tell him that."

Tony ducked his head, a little embarrassed at Gibbs' off-the-cuff praise. He found it sort of endearing that Gibbs wouldn't own up to putting in a good word for him, as if Gibbs was unused to people thanking him. "Well, all I know is that you saved my life, Gibbs." Gibbs looked at him skeptically so Tony explained, "If I'd lost that job I would've been in deep shit, money-wise."

"Hmm. Couldn't call your dad," Gibbs said knowingly.

"No way would I go to him. Shoot, I'd never hear the end of it. He'd charge me the usual 20% rate on a loan. Like the Mafia's six-for-five loan sharks do."

Gibbs looked angry when he asked, "Your father get his problems straightened out?"

With a humorless laugh, Tony said, "Yeah, he made nice with whoever was after his ass, I guess. But don't worry, he'll step on somebody else's toes soon enough; it's the same old cycle. He drags people into these messes he makes and it's always somebody else who gets hurt. And it's never his fault. He doesn't care about anyone except himself," Tony said with disgust.

"He cared enough to send someone to protect you, Tony."

"Yeah, well, false alarm. Turns out the fire was put out before I even got to New York." Tony was quiet for a while and then said with a smile, "I'm glad we got to take the road trip. It was fun."

Gibbs snorted. "Sure, lots of fun. Lousy motels and diner food."

"I love diner food, and driving back roads, and going to the Stoogeum. God, that was weird."

"I can't believe I let you drag me to a museum for The Three Stooges." Gibbs tried hard not to crack a smile when he said, "You've got some noive," which had Tony rolling with laughter.

***–***

Gibbs had stretched the trip into three days, taking back roads mostly. It was the first time in months - since Shannon and Kelly had been killed - that he'd tolerated…no, that he'd enjoyed someone's company. He'd found it strange at the time that he became attached to a college kid so fast – a young man with understanding green eyes, a good heart, and a bright future ahead of him. He remembered Tony's insolent, challenging ways, his truthful and inquisitive nature, and the annoying chatter that sometimes seemed as if it would never end.

And Gibbs also remembered that once Tony had been safely delivered to his aunt and uncle's doorstep, and he had hit the road again, how keenly he'd missed the young man. It was like losing a family member all over again, except, he reminded himself, this time it wasn't permanent.

He had said a quick good-bye, and had hugged Tony, quick and hard, then removed the clinging hands from around his waist and ran for the safety of his car.

It wasn't until he had been driving away, determined not to look back, that Gibbs had made the decision to take Mike Franks' offer of a job at NIS. Meeting Tony had been a turning point of sorts, had pushed Gibbs in the right direction. Maybe it was Tony's upbeat nature, or the way he had defiantly refused to give in to his father, but Tony had given Gibbs hope to combat the bleakness that he had allowed to become a defining factor in his life.

***–***

After they left Riverfront Stadium the two men stopped at a café before driving back to Columbus because Tony was, he swore, famished. Facing each other across the dark green laminate table, Tony dug into a burger and fries, while Gibbs had black coffee and a slice of apple pie.

"How is Colonel Hargrave doing these days? He send you out on any more jobs?" Tony said, in a deep voice, mimicking the colonel, "Men, adversity causes some men to break; others to break records."

Gibbs was amused at Tony remembering the quotes that Hargrave had drilled into the boys he taught. "I haven't heard from the colonel since right after you and I took our little road trip. Job was done and I walked away." Realizing that sounded dismissive, Gibbs added, "It was a favor, Tony, but one I enjoyed doing."

Tony dropped his gaze to his food, unable to hide his smile at Gibbs' admission. "I sorta wondered if you were doing a favor for the colonel or if it was the other way around. I think maybe you needed some company other than your own, you know?" He looked up and studied Gibbs' face, a little worried. "You doing okay now? Your knee is better; you're not limping any more."

"Yeah, I'm okay," Gibbs replied, a little uncomfortable that Tony was so observant. He had been grieving at the time he met Tony, angry at the world, every day a struggle. Unable to go back on active duty because of his damaged knee, Gibbs had been unsure about what to do with the rest of his life. With nothing better to fill his too-empty days, he'd accepted the bodyguard assignment when Hargrave had contacted him.

The colonel had also confided in Gibbs that he didn't want to see Tony dragged down by his father. "That boy needs a strong mentor, Gunny, if you're up for the job. I don't want that father of his to ruin all my hard work." Gibbs had begrudgingly agreed to escort Tony to his relatives' home, but he'd ended up gaining so much more than he'd signed on for. Getting to know Tony during their short time together had given Gibbs a much-needed push to make some decisions about his future.

Tony chewed on his burger and then asked, "So what've you been doing since I last saw you in May? You been doing bodyguard work?"

Gibbs chuckled. "No, you were the last body I guarded. I'm at NIS now. Except they went and changed the name to NCIS. It's the Naval Criminal Investi–."

Tony nodded and finished up Gibbs' sentence. "Investigative Service. I knew you were going to get that job, Gibbs. You're a Navy cop. That's great." He asked eagerly, "Are you a field investigator? You get to snoop around murder scenes? Foil terrorist plots?"

Gibbs recalled he'd mentioned to Tony that he was considering applying for a job with NIS. "Yeah, now I can officially stick my nose in other people's business," he said wryly.

"Are you the boss of your own unit?"

As the junior member of the team, Gibbs was stuck with lugging all the equipment to and from every crime scene, with Mike Franks barking orders at him, calling him Probie. "Uh, no, not anybody's boss."

Tony nodded confidently. "You will be."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows at the kid's confidence in his leadership skills, and said gruffly, "You seem pretty sure of that, DiNozzo."

Sticking a fry in his mouth, Tony said, "Yup." He ate a couple more fries and then grinned. "I can tell you'd make a good teacher. Got a lot of patience."

"A teacher?" Gibbs let out a huff of breath. He was hardly what you'd call patient where people were concerned. "Nah. Right now I'm a probie."

When they were on their road trip last spring, Gibbs had told Tony about some of his experiences as a sniper while in the Marines, as well as when he'd been an MP while at Camp Lejeune. He'd described to the interested young man about the processing of a crime scene and what an investigation entailed. He'd also told Tony a story or two about his experiences in the Corps as a gunnery sergeant, and then he'd started to talk about his tour in Desert Storm. That's when Gibbs had faltered and fallen into a quiet spell. The memories, the loss of his family, had been still too fresh to share with anyone at the time. After that, he'd concentrated on driving, and had let Tony do the talking.

***–***

The way that Gibbs had treated him during the journey had taught Tony a lot about the man. Gibbs had been curt at times, and had ordered him about, but he had also asked questions, and listened to what Tony had to say. Gibbs never talked down him - that was what Tony remembered best. He had also been kind in ways that mattered. For the first time in his life Tony spent time with an adult who had been genuinely interested in him as a person.

"You're good at watching out for people," said Tony, studying the older man sitting across the café table from him. Gibbs looked at him skeptically so Tony said, "Like when you drove me to New York."

"Wouldn't have been necessary if your father hadn't stirred up the local mob," said Gibbs, apparently still annoyed at Tony's father. "I was heading east anyway. Didn't mind the company," he said offhandedly.

Tony sent Gibbs a sideways look while he slurped his soda until there was nothing left but ice cubes in the bottom of the glass. He was pretty sure that Gibbs had enjoyed their trip to New York as much as he had, even if he wouldn't admit it aloud. "I think we got along pretty good. We found plenty of things to talk about to pass the time – sports and travel, and things we want to do before we die. I wish we could have driven forever," Tony said wistfully. He poked at the melted ice cubes with his straw, making a crunching sound.

"You mean you talked. And talked." Gibbs moved Tony's glass out of his reach. "You want another soda or are you gonna play with it all day?"

Tony thought it was funny how easy it was to annoy Gibbs. He shook his head and pointed out, "Hey, you talked, too. You told me all about the Marines and about the rules. My dad always comes down on me for talking too much. He says it gets on his nerves." Gibbs made a huffing sound, indicating he agreed, which made Tony smile. "Not that you're any good at talking about movies or TV shows or anything interesting like that. Of course it isn't your fault you were deprived as a child and didn't even have a TV," Tony teased.

"Hey, we did, too." Tony raised his eyebrows to show his disbelief, so Gibbs said, "It was in the den and when I was a kid, it was my job to get up and adjust those rabbit ears when the reception got snowy."

"Name one show you watched," Tony challenged, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table.

"Uh…" Gibbs drank some coffee, obviously stalling for time. "Rawhide," he said, with a nod to say 'so there.'

"Gee, I must have missed that one. Too bad." Tony tried not to roll his eyes. "Anyway, as I recall, you did your share of gabbing until I spilled my chocolate shake all over you. Of course that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't swerved around that car that was going all of twenty miles an hour, just outside Harrisburg." It still puzzled Tony that Gibbs had taken it all in stride. He had pulled over without making any fuss, helped Tony clean up the spillage, and got the car back on the road – all without saying more than two words. Sure, he'd looked a little grim, but who wouldn't if you got a lapful of milkshake? "You know, it's funny," said Tony, frowning at Gibbs. "You never yelled at me or anything. My dad would have gone ballistic. I'd have been dumped by the side of the road and he'd be gone in a cloud of dust, never looking back."

"Sometimes you do test my patience, Tony, but it was an accident," Gibbs said, with a slightly exasperated shake of his head. "You're a smart kid, and I listen to what you have to say. Sometimes, some of it even makes sense." His smile eased the sarcasm in his voice.

Tony could feel his face turning pink so he dug into his meal to hide his discomfort, shrugging off the compliment even though it meant the world to him. It wasn't often anyone praised him, except maybe on the basketball court or when he was playing football. Girls sometimes said nice things after sex, but even though that made him feel good, Tony knew enough not to read too much into their words.

Gibbs tapped Tony's glass with his fork, making him look up. "Hell, you put up with my grousing, and didn't complain when I took coffee-and-piss stops every couple of hours for 500 miles, so I guess I could put up with your chatter."

Tony laughed and said, "In that case, don't forget to mention the snoring, and what a grouch you were in the morning. But it was worth it, Gibbs, except that…"

"What?"

"We didn't have to stop every couple of hours. It was every hour. Like clockwork."

Gibbs stared at Tony. "Was not."

"Every hour." Tony nodded.

Gibbs snorted.

"Could've set my watch to it," said Tony, suppressing a smile.

Gibbs growled under his breath and paid for the meal.

Once they were walking along the sidewalk towards Gibbs' car, Tony said, quite seriously, "You know what? Next time we go on a road trip, we'll take along one of those auto-johns, like the truckers have. They're really good for older guys who need to make pit stop every hour. You know what the packaging says: 'Fits all male connections.'" As Tony expected, a slap was delivered to the back of his head, but he really didn't mind.

***–*** end chapter 2 ***–***