Divergence/Convergence

Disclaimer: All characters property of CBS, not mine, alas.

I have not as yet seen the season 13 finale as I live in the UK and it won't be airing for about 3 more weeks. However, I know the basics of it from friends who have seen it.

Sorry for the delay in updating; things have been a bit busy at my end.

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Chapter 3: Celebration

All too soon, Tony's last day under Gibbs came around. His flight was booked, he had confirmation of his new apartment in Tel Aviv and his car (the keys to both of which he would collect once he had arrived in Israel), his documents and affairs were in order, and he had handed over custody of his two goldfish to McGee (who had arched an eyebrow when told their names) and Delilah. He took his time parking his car for the last time in the agency garage and ambled towards the lift, memorising every last detail. Two other staff joined him in the lift but they were not people he knew so the exchange of pleasantries was limited to a head nod and a "Morning" from each.

When they arrived at the squad room level, Tony let the other two go first; he briefly closed his eyes as he savoured the ding and the exit. My last time walking into the bullpen from the elevator.

He lingered a little too long – the lift doors began sliding shut. He hastily stuck out his hand and the doors rebounded. At this time of morning, the room was quiet – the agents who had already arrived were in pre-coffee mode – and he stepped out of the lift, pausing to soak up the atmosphere. There was something calming about the squadroom this early.

Taking his time, he wandered over to the agency's Most Wanted wall and made a mental note of each face and name on it. Vance had informed him that there was a near-identical wall in the Tel Aviv office, but Tony suspected it didn't have the same pumpkin-orange background.

"Morning, DiNozzo," came a voice from behind Tony's left shoulder. The agent spun round to face his director, who offered a smile. "Taking it all in for the last time?" When Tony nodded, he smiled. "I remember doing the same thing my last day in San Diego."

"Doesn't feel quite real yet."

"Probably won't until you're in Tel Aviv. You all set?"

"I think so. Flight leaves Sunday. Figured I'd give myself some time to settle in before I start work."

"Good plan. My office, three o'clock, for the formal handover." And before Tony had a chance to reply, the director had gone.

For once, he was the first of his team to arrive – but clearly hadn't been the last to leave the previous night. A huge 'Good Luck!' banner hung above his place and there were balloons attached to each corner of his desk. A smaller banner across the front of the desk proclaimed 'Bon Voyage!' and there were streamers all over his area. The sight brought a smile to his face and he went over, depositing his bag in its usual place. "Man, I'm gonna miss this place."

"Can we save the sentimentality for later?" asked McGee, appearing next to him.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "It's too early for words like 'sentimentality', McDictionary," he informed the other agent, who would be taking over from him as Gibbs' second-in-command.

"Suck it up."

"So who's coming tonight?" They were going to their favourite bar for the farewell party; Tony knew McGee had booked the side-room for them, but he had not been privy to any more information than that.

"You, me, Bishop, Boss, Abby, Ducky, Palmer, Delilah, Lucy, O'Reilly, Martinez, Becky, Skinny Sam, Vertical Bill – why's he called that, by the way?"

"No idea."

"– and I think the director's planning to show at some point. A lot of other people are going to pop their heads in for a bit but those are the ones who are staying for a while."

"Will there be cake?"

McGee rolled his eyes. "Yes, Tony, there will be cake. Abby's sorted a very special cake."

"A very special cake for a Very Special Agent?"

"Like it'd be anything else."

Tony grinned and was about to reply when his phone rang. "'Scuse me." He dug it out of his pocket and went round the corner behind the stairs. As he glanced at the screen he noticed the number began 972 – not a US one. He answered it cautiously. "Special Agent DiNozzo…"

"Boker tov, Tony," a heavily-accented, vaguely-familiar voice greeted him. "This is Adam. I, uh, I obtained your number from Director Elbaz."

"Adam?" Tony frowned, trying to place the name.

"Adam Eshel – you know, from Mossad."

Comprehension dawned, recognising the voice now. "Adam! Hey, man, how's it going?"

"I understand you are moving here."

"Yeah. This weekend. Today's my last day at the Navy Yard. What's up?"

"Do you have anyone to collect you from the airport?"

Tony shook his head automatically. "No. I figured I'd get a taxi at the airport."

"Would you like me to meet you? It will be a lot cheaper for you and taxi drivers in Tel Aviv can be…a little crazy. And it would be good to see you again."

"Uh…sure. Yeah, why not?"

"Then it is a plan. You arrive on Monday, yes?"

"How do you know all this?"

Adam chuckled. "I am Mossad."

"Good point. Do you need my flight details?"

"OS2258, arriving at thirteen twenty-four, correct?"

He had forgotten how well Mossad could obtain information; he found it somewhat unsettling. "Yeah, that's the one."

"Excellent. I shall see you on Monday. Shalom."

"Shalom, Adam." When the call ended, Tony saved the number to his phone. That was an interesting turn of events; he wasn't sure whether he should be suspicious or pleased. He decided that unless he received information that suggested the former, he would go with the latter. Adam had helped him in the past and it seemed like a genuine gesture of friendship.

Looking up at the big wall clock, he saw that it was now five to seven. Time to be ready for the day.

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It was just before eight that evening when Tony, McGee and Delilah arrived at the bar. Delilah had driven them as she was on antibiotics and therefore not allowed to drink alcohol, so she didn't see any point in "the boys" (her wording) getting taxis. While McGee got her wheelchair out, Delilah fiddled with her phone (as far as Tony was concerned; in reality she was texting Abby to let her know that they had arrived) and Tony prepared himself for what was sure to be an emotional evening. Delilah transferred into her chair while Tony got out, locking the car behind them.

"You ready?" McGee inquired.

"As I'll ever be. Let's do this," replied Tony, pulling himself up to his full height as he followed the others in. For eight o'clock on a Friday night he was surprised at how empty the place was – but that was not necessarily a bad thing on this occasion. He was glad they had booked the side-room. Wait, why were the doors shut…?

McGee and Delilah looked at each other, together counted, "One, two, three," and then pulled open the doors.

A wave of cheers and hollers hit them. Tony blinked and then looked closer. Everyone in the room was dressed up, wearing party hats and waving. He barely had time to register it before something – which turned out to be Abby –flung itself into him. "OhmygodI'mgonnamissyou SO DAMN MUCH!" she exclaimed, squeezing him tightly. When she released him, she seized his wrist and tugged him into the room.

"Wow," was the only response he could utter to the sight in front of him. There were various small banners adorning the walls, declaring 'Goodbye!', 'Good Luck!', 'We'll miss you!', 'Enjoy your new job!' and so on; streamers, baubles and other decorations; and in the middle of the opposite wall a huge, handmade-by-Abby banner proclaiming his name and 'Congrats on the job! Enjoy Israel!'

He grinned at the sight and looked around at all the people gathered there. Bishop stepped forward and reached up to put an orange party hat on his head; he rolled his eyes at her but grinned even more broadly anyway. Someone – Palmer – thrust a drink into his hand and Abby pulled him over to the big, throne-like chair that was underneath her banner, telling him to sit. He obeyed. Only now did he notice the Mistress of Ceremonies sash she wore, which explained a lot. To his left a sumptuous-looking buffet was laid out; on his right the wall had been turned into a photo display. He would peruse that later.

Right next to him, Abby let out a piercing whistle that promptly silenced the crowd. With the doors now closed, nearly all the noise from the main bar had been shut out. Abby stepped forward. "Now the main man, the guest of honour, has arrived, it is time, my friends, for The Speeches." She bowed and gestured to Vance, who nodded, an amused smile on his face, and got to his feet. Tony found himself feeling a little uncertain: was he expected to give a speech? He hadn't prepared anything…

"Thank you all for coming," began Vance. "I've known Agent DiNozzo for quite some time now and I have to say, it's never dull when he's around." This prompted a chuckle from everyone. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a challenge at times and he certainly has…creative ways of going about things. We've not always seen eye-to-eye on matters and there have been times when I've wanted to smack him like Gibbs does, but protocol forbids me." Again, people chuckled, and Tony's hand instinctively went to the back of his head. "But he's demonstrated time and again that he's a fine agent and an outstanding asset to NCIS. If I didn't completely trust him I wouldn't have offered him the job. So, Agent DiNozzo, I am one hundred percent confident in your ability to lead the Israel office. I'll see you in MTAC." He raised his glass towards Tony. "To Agent DiNozzo." The group echoed his words and obliged the toast. Tony felt himself turn a little pink from the compliments, something he knew Vance did not dish out liberally.

"Next!" Abby called.

Bishop emerged. "I've only known Tony for about two and a half years and I don't want to inflate his ego any more than it already is, but I've learned a lot – both about being an NCIS agent and about movies. I've learned a lot about movies! But seriously, I've enjoyed working with him and I wish him all the best for the new job. She raised her glass; her toast was for "Good luck".

Ducky was next. "I have worked with Anthony for a long time, and like Director Vance, I have rarely had a dull moment. Perhaps on occasion I have relished a little too much in 'grossing him out' in Autopsy, but it was never that much when you consider that his background prior to NCIS was in homicide. He is always ready with a movie reference and I've lost track of how many times he has compared an element of a crime scene to something he's seen in one of his movies.

"Yet underneath that joviality, the prank-playing, the larking about, is a man who is dedicated to his job, committed to solving cases and bringing about closure for those affected, with a deep sense of justice. We have been through many things and I have seen him change a great deal over the years, from the lighthearted, juvenile, overgrown frat boy – as Jethro put it – to the mature, caring and protective man he is today. Anthony, it has been a pleasure to work with you and watch you develop into who you are now, and I wish you every success in your new position. Thank you." He stepped back to much applause.

"Jimmy!" ordered Abby.

Palmer shuffled forwards. "I, uh, I just want to say that although Tony can be incredibly childish and annoying at times, he's also been a great friend and I'm glad to have worked with him." He hastened back into his place, ears bright red.

McGee hurried forwards before Abby had a chance to summon him. "I've worked with Tony for over a decade now. At the start there was definitely some frat-style hazing, all of which, I would like it noted, was completely unwanted and unnecessary. I've lost count of how many stupid nicknames he's given me. That said, over the years we've been through a hell of a lot – we've lost close friends, fought really horrible bad guys, and I think the ultimate one has to be deliberately getting ourselves captured and held prisoner in a terrorist training camp in Somalia, all to avenge the death of someone who turned out to not be dead after all so it turned into a rescue mission. That's definitely the most extreme thing we've ever done.

"But whatever's happened, he's been there for me. Tony's basically the annoying older brother I never had and he's been a damn good friend to me. I'm gonna miss him a lot and I hope this new job is everything he wants it to be." He held up his glass. "To family."

When that toast was over, Abby tugged a reluctant Gibbs to the front and then stepped aside. Gibbs nodded at Tony. "Gonna keep this short. No idea how many headslaps I've meted out but I'm sure they were all deserved. Juvenile? Yeah, at times. Annoying? Absolutely. Quiet? Rarely. One of the best agents I've ever worked with? Without a question. You'll make a fantastic leader and I can't think of anyone better for the job. You've earned it, Tony." He stepped back, to much applause. By now Tony's face was bright red, taken aback at all the praise and kind words being heaped upon him.

"And now, the man himself!" announced Abby, pulling him to his feet, a vice-like grip around his wrist.

"Hey, I wasn't told I had to give a speech!" he protested.

"Tough. You do."

Knowing she wouldn't take no for an answer, he cleared his throat. It would be off-the-cuff, but he'd make it memorable. "I first met Gibbs when I was a homicide detective in Baltimore when our cases overlapped. I hauled him in thinking he was some crazy homeless guy and it turned out he was a federal agent with some agency I'd never heard of. Not long after that I ended up joining NCIS with him as my boss. No gentle easing-in like you might have gotten with someone else, but bam! – straight in at the deep end.

"A little while later we worked a case that brought us into contact with a Secret Service agent named Kate Todd. Not sure what Gibbs did but it obviously worked. Then we got McGee. Sorry about the hazing – but you just made it so easy! We went through a lot together. And then Ari Haswari happened and we lost a real good friend. Yeah, we still miss her.

"That brought the exotic Mossad officer, Ziva David, into our world, Most of you guys remember her and I'm sure I don't need to tell you about her. We had eight years before she left. So many memories. I think McGee's right – the whole thing in Somalia was definitely our ultimate extreme adventure.

"Ziva arrived the same day Jenny Shepard took over as director. While she was in charge I got framed for murder – not her fault, she wasn't to know the jerk she'd hired turned out to have a personal vendetta against me – and made out to be dead by my car being blown up. Can't help noticing Kort still hasn't recompensed me for that. Then we lost Jenny and then-Assistant Director Leon Vance took over, Man, did I dislike you back then, sir – not now, certainly not now –" Vance arched an eyebrow at this but made no comment, "– and then I got sent off to be Agent Afloat for months. It felt like it would never end. Speaking of, how come McLandlubber's never had to do that?"

"Medical issue prohibit him from operating effectively or safely in the role," answered Vance diplomatically.

"He gets seasick," elaborated Tony with a slight smirk.

Bishop gave McGee a disbelieving look. "But you're a Navy cop!"

"Don't go there," advised Palmer.

Face visibly burning, McGee scowled. "Thanks a lot, Tony."

"So we hauled Ziva out of the desert – we did, not Mossad – and we dealt with some real bad guys. Remember when Harper Dearing tried to blow up the Navy Yard?

"It's been one hell of a ride. I work with some damn good people, some of whom are family to me. Boss, Duckman, Abs, Autopsy Gremlin, Elf Lord, Probette – it's been one hell of a ride and I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Well, except for getting pneumonic plague. That part sucked. But I shall take it all with me as I venture forth to pastures new." He turned to Gibbs and bowed. "The Padawan has become the Master. Thank you."

Deafening applause broke out as Tony raised his glass. "To the future of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

His colleagues obliged with the toast and Tony, beaming, turned to Abby. "How was that for impromptu?"

She grinned. "Nicely done, Tony. Now c'mon, let's get some drinking done! Oh, no, wait, wait, WAIT, everyone! The cake! We have to cut the cake!" She dragged Tony off to the end of the buffet table, which contained no cake.

Tony gave her a confused look. "I hate to break it to you, Abby, but there's no ca–"

"Yes there is!" countered McGee from behind him.

Tony spun round to see McGee and Delilah, the latter of whom bore a giant pumpkin-orange sheet cake on her lap. 'GOODBYE TONY!" was written on it in black, the same font as the agency's, with a large, full-colour agency shield underneath it, an agent badge in gold icing on either side of the seal.

Tony stared at it, mouth open. "This is… Oh man. This is amazing!" He received broad smiles and grins from all his teammates and colleagues, and felt his eyes sting. Seriously? He was going to cry now? But he blinked away the tears and watched as McGee, Delilah and Abby put the cake on the table next to the cake knife before picking it up and preparing to cut into it.

"You've gotta pose for photos first!" Abby instructed him. "Don't cut it until I say you can!"

"Yes, ma'am!" He obligingly grinned as people took photos until Abby declared that it was time to cut the cake and then he gleefully sank the knife into it, to much applause. "Do I have to cut it into all the slices?"

"I'll do that," Abby told him. "Go, socialise."

He was more than happy to relinquish the knife to her and headed into the crowd to talk to the many well-wishers who were present. Everyone wanted a word with him and he was quite touched that so many had attended. A number had even bought him gifts.

As the evening wore on, people gradually departed (with cake; Abby made sure of that) until it was just Tony, McGee, Delilah, Abby and Bishop. At midnight, the barman put his head into the room. "Guys, we're about to close up, so if you could be quick and get the food cleared I'd appreciate it."

"Oh. Sure!" replied Abby, and he disappeared after giving her the thumbs-up. She surveyed the room: there wasn't much to tidy as almost all the food and cake had been eaten. "You guys, take what you want and I'll drop the rest off with Palmer."

It did not take them long to sort out, and then long hugs were exchanged with promises to email a lot, before Abby and Bishop got a taxi and the remaining three got into Delilah's car. They dropped Tony off at his and McGee promised to be on time to take Tony to Dulles airport on Sunday.

Once inside, exhausted, Tony went straight to bed.

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TBC