CHAPTER 2
Late one night, a couple of weeks later, Tony visited Director Shepard's office to report the latest developments on his assignment. He'd casually bumped into Jeanne Benoit at a music store, and had charmed her into having coffee with him. The got along nicely, so next he took her out for a drink, and now they had a dinner date lined up. The old DiNozzo charm had its advantages. Tony DiNardo was going to pick her up at her apartment on Friday night, and he planned to get there early. "While she's finishing getting ready to go out, I should be able to snoop around," he told the director. "I'll need to make sure I get out of here early."
Shepard nodded. "It can be arranged. I knew you'd be able to insinuate yourself into Ms. Benoit's life, DiNozzo."
"I'm glad that you have confidence in my abilities, Director," Tony said, swallowing a sour feeling.
"I am confident… that you will succeed with this assignment, and bring la Grenouille to justice," the director said with a smile. "I'll cover for you here, when I can. If you can't make it to work, Agent Balboa can be in charge of McGee and Ziva." She handed a cell phone to Tony, and told him it was a direct line to her number, and that texting her '911' would signal that he was in trouble. The director gave him a sharp look, and said, "But you won't be getting into any trouble, will you?"
"No ma'am." Tony wondered exactly who the cavalry would consist of, and how they'd find him if nobody knew where he was, or what he was up to.
"By the way, since we're going to be working together so closely, don't you think it's time you call me Jenny? Only when we're alone, of course, Tony."
Tony nodded. "Of course… Jenny."
ooOoo
Tony started to keep meticulous records of everything the director said to him, and every move he made when on assignment for her. He wore a wire to their meetings whenever he could get away with it, and wrote up his activities as he would an official report, keeping duplicates of everything in a safe place. Although he didn't want to have to use any of it if Director Shepard did something illegal, he wanted to have evidence to prove that he had no part in it.
ooOoo
When it appeared that Jeanne had accepted Tony as being Professor Tony DiNardo, and everything was going well, Director Shepard invited Tony into her office for a drink and an update.
She poured two whisky and sodas, and handed him one without asking. "I've already recommended you to move into the supervisory position, permanently. You'll officially be working under me, Tony, and I can be a very generous boss," she said, smiling suggestively.
"I'm sure you are, Director," Tony said, finding it difficult to conjure up a smile. He put the glass on the conference table, untouched.
The director had no intention of reinstating Gibbs, and the way she'd pushed the career agent aside as soon as the opportunity presented itself didn't sit well with Tony. Where the hell was her loyalty? Gibbs was a fixture in the agency. He was the kind of man who everybody at NCIS expected to pursue criminals with dogged determination until the day he dropped. But Director Shepard saying she wasn't even willing to give him a chance, and slammed the door in his face, was untenable.
Tony was pissed at the way Shepard was bad-mouthing Gibbs, but speaking in his boss's defense wouldn't change her mind. More likely, it would rile her up. Contrary to the director's opinion of Gibbs, Tony, as well as his colleagues, wanted Gibbs back, and he wanted to make her understand that. "Gibbs taught me everything I know, Director. He's a tough boss, but he's the best. Okay, so sometimes he isn't good at taking orders but–"
Shepard interrupted, "I applaud your loyalty, Tony, but just so we're clear on this, Gibbs is out of the picture. He will never get his position back, even if he decides he'd had enough sun and tequila, and shows up on our doorstep tomorrow."
Tony left that meeting with a bad feeling in his stomach. He tried Gibbs' cell phone but it beeped as if it couldn't connect, and didn't even go to voicemail. He texted a message, knowing it was fruitless, as Gibbs would probably never see it. Trying to reach you. U ok? Call me. T.
He caught Abby on her way out to a club, and asked her if she had ever gotten through to Gibbs, or if she had a number for Mike Franks. He didn't tell her what was going on, just that he wanted to talk to Gibbs. The man deserved to know he was being thrown to the curb without any notice.
Abby said she'd called Gibbs once a week, and so far had only reached his voicemail. Franks didn't have a phone, but the local cantina would take calls for him. She gave Tony the number, and enveloped him a big hug. "I want Gibbs back, too, and won't it be wonderful when everything is back to normal and our family is together again? So do that voodoo that you do and get him back here. Got it?"
Lying in bed that night, Tony thought about Gibbs, and what he'd say to him when he got through to him. "Hi Boss, haven't heard from you in a while. How's the weather down there? By the way, the director's booting you out of NCIS so you needn't bother coming back." Tony laughed softly. Yeah, right, like he'd say that. If he did, sure thing Gibbs would never return.
Maybe he'd beg, instead. "Boss! Boss! You have to come home, please, please! I can't stand any more of Ziva and Tim being assholes, and Jenny's like a leach trying to suck me dry chasing down some international criminal who hasn't shown his face in months, and I'm working 28 hours a day at two jobs – three if you count the film studies as Professor DiNardo – and I'm going fucking crazy! Please, I need you!" Okay, that was way over the top desperate, but that was how he felt.
He didn't understand why Shepard was getting rid of Gibbs. He'd always flouted her authority…but then, Gibbs did that with almost everyone he met, at least with those he didn't respect, which was almost everyone. Or maybe she was afraid of him, because Gibbs saw too much, and would have caught on to what she was up to.
Gibbs may have left without warning, but you had to give the guy a little leeway. When he walked out, he was still recovering from a blast that had left him with some pretty bad burns and a head injury that caused temporary amnesia. Who knows what screws might be loose inside that hard head of his? Tony knew from experience that getting knocked out took a lot out of you. There had been times when it had taken him weeks to get his head on straight again – even though he'd always pretended he was just fine and dandy, when his vision was screwy and he listed dangerously to one side. So if Gibbs needed a couple of months off in order to regroup, then that was what he should take, as far as Tony was concerned. Only a short respite to recuperate had now stretched to over four months, and Tony despaired of ever seeing Gibbs again.
Tony gave serious thought to taking a few days off to chase down his boss, and somehow convince him to return. But then he pictured Gibbs' reaction. He'd probably be pissed at being followed, and would yell at Tony to go home.
He placed the call to Gibbs' phone at midnight, expecting to reach voice mail. Instead, a gruff, "What, DiNozzo?" reached his ears.
"Boss?"
There was a pause before Gibbs grunted, "I'm not your boss anymore."
Unable to quarrel about that, just the same, Tony blurted, "You're not retired."
"What's wrong?"
God, what wasn't wrong? He missed him, badly, more than he'd realized until hearing his voice again, after four months. The director had sucked him into her own quest for vengeance and he'd been dating the daughter of an arms dealer half the world was looking for. "When're you coming back, Boss?" Tony asked.
For a moment he thought Gibbs hadn't heard him, but there was a sigh and Gibbs said tiredly, "I can't. I'm not…ready."
He had to ask. "When will you be ready?"
"DiNozzo!"
Tony whispered into the phone, "I miss you so badly."
The pause this time was even longer, but Gibbs said, just as softly, "I know." There was a click and they were disconnected.
Tony tried, unsuccessfully, not to cry. He wiped his nose and tried to cheer himself up by telling himself that Gibbs would to return to DC when he was good and ready. They all believed – Ziva and McGee, Abby and Ducky, even Palmer – that he would just walk in the door like nothing had happened, and get right back to work without any fanfare. Morale would improve, everything would run smoothly and they'd all be happy again.
Okay, maybe not happy, because some of the things the director has accused Gibbs of were true. Yes, he went off on his own, without backup, acting like the Lone Ranger and putting himself in the line of fire. No, he didn't like working with computers and had a hard time doing anything but the simplest of tasks on his flip phone, but the guy was a committed, experienced, skilled investigator who could still outrun even the most fleet-footed of criminals; he was fearless and drove like a Nascar driver, and as an added bonus, Gibbs could strip down and re-assemble his M40A1 sniper rifle in record time while blindfolded, almost two decades after leaving the Marines. Face it, the silver fox was a badass, and he'd be one right up until the day he died. Getting dissed by the director and fired from NCIS wasn't about to change that.
At least working with Gibbs was interesting, even when things went off the rails. Doing things his own way, and believing that the means justified the end, was how Gibbs operated, and nobody could change the man's modus operandi. Tony didn't want to change him, anyway. He actually liked Gibbs the way he was, and he always had.
He liked Gibbs' growly, straight-as-an-arrow ways, his unrelenting drive, the way he stood up for the underdog. He was autocratic and demanding, but there was more to Gibbs than met the eye. A lot more. Underneath the special agent/Marine exterior was a man who few people had to opportunity to know. But Tony knew him. He knew the Gibbs who had the ability to be kind and compassionate, and took the time to listen to and understand whoever he was with. The Gibbs he knew could joke and tease and smile, and God, when he smiled, it was like he was a whole different person. And despite his sketchy history with regards to marriage, he still had plenty of room in his heart to give love, and to accept love, too. Hell, Tony knew Gibbs better than anyone. After all, he'd had fallen head over heels in love with the guy the moment he'd tackled him in that alley in Baltimore, and they'd been together ever since.
ooOoo
Okay, so it hadn't always been perfect. Their relationship had suffered as many ups and downs as the Cyclone at Coney Island. In the six crazy, tumultuous years they'd been sleeping together, sometimes living together, they'd broken up – and made up again – plenty of times. Mostly it was because one or both of them was being stupid or stubborn, or unnecessarily putting themselves in danger.
Tony once pulled a stupid stunt in order to protect a female witness, and got injured when doing so. That made Gibbs so bent-out-of-shape pissed and jealous he kicked a dent in Tony's Mustang and refused to speak to him, even at work, for an entire week. The worst was when Tony had a two-week affair with Paula Cassidy, during one of those 'I'm never sleeping with Gibbs again' breakups, and Gibbs accused Tony of using her to get back at him. Of course Tony swore up and down he would never use anyone like that, even though somewhere in the far recesses of his brain a big fat finger pointed at him while a voice shouted, 'Liar, liar!'
They'd been through misunderstandings, stand-offs, and days without any communication at all, but no matter whether they fought loudly or stewed in silence, Tony and Gibbs always got back together. They would stumble over apologies (yes, Gibbs apologized sincerely when it was important), and kiss and make up, and inevitably they would fall into bed together. Make-up sex was always hot and passionate, with the two of them fighting for dominance as they screwed each other, but it didn't really solve anything; the problem that had caused the friction in the first place was still there. Eventually they accepted that they had to resolve their issues, which meant talking about them, and as much as Tony hated baring his soul, Gibbs was worse. Still, they waded through the uncomfortable world of couples' therapy and learned that opening their mouths and admitting their problems to each other wasn't going to kill them – even though there were times Tony felt like he'd die of embarrassment.
Tony never stopped loving Gibbs, no matter what, and the thing that astounded Tony was that Gibbs loved him back, just as deeply. Gibbs had never actually said the words though, those "I love you" words that mattered a lot more than they should, but he took every opportunity to show Tony just how much he cared for him, and needed him in his life. It was the little things that made it all worthwhile – the way Gibbs kissed him softly in the morning, or hugged him from behind when he was doing the dishes; the way he held Tony close after sex, tenderly, whispering sweet things to him, making sure Tony understood that he meant every word.
And sometimes, when they were worn out from dealing with all the horrific crimes on a daily basis, Gibbs would lock the front door and pull Tony onto the couch with him. He'd wrap his arms around him, and kiss him on the neck while they lip-read silent movies, and watched Garbo make love to John Gilbert, just with her eyes.
The last couple of years had been mostly trouble-free, relationship-wise, but then, back in May, Gibbs had gotten himself blown up aboard the Bakir Kamir, and between his memory loss, PTSD and anger, he'd been unable to cope. That first night home from the hospital had been tough for both of them. Gibbs had refused to come to bed. Unable to settle down, he had paced continuously, upset over the deaths of nineteen SEALs who had been caught in a devastating explosion as they approached the Cape Fear – and knowing it could have been prevented. Along with the memories of his first wife and child still fresh in his mind, confused, feeling torn and guilty, he'd stuffed a few things in his duffel and left in the middle of the night, telling Tony he needed some time.
ooOoo
