AN: Thanks to all the guests who weren't logged in so I couldn't thank you personally. Your support is very much appreciated anyway.

Sideways and Forwards

Chapter 3

The Fall sun was pleasant, and the grassy bank opposite the small restaurant was fragrant, as it had been mown that morning; sitting at the table on the terrace was just about the most relaxing way they could find to spend their lunch break after the morning they'd had. Tony had introduced his probie to the place on her second day working for him; he'd thought the Spanish/Mexican cuisine might please her, and Isabella, the proprietress reminded him very much of Silvia, the cook from his childhood at the big house on Long Island.

"She first taught me to speak Spanish," he told Alex. "She taught me the difference between Mexican and Spanish Spanish, if you see what I mean. Mind you, I still speak it like a Gringo... never can seem to sound anything like the real deal, but yep, I'm fluent."

Alex laughed. "Muy bueno!" she told him, and they continued the conversation in the same language, to the delight of Isabella, who clapped her hands in delight when she brought their food.

"So," the younger agent prodded gently, "it didn't go so well with Abby, then?"

Tony smiled, a pained, rueful effort. "Abby's world is black and white – no shades of grey. And for her, Gibbs can do no wrong." He told her what had transpired, struggling occasionally for the right adjective, and being helped out, and when Alex asked why all this was happening, he sighed – something he felt he'd been doing a lot of lately. "Empecemos por el principio...."

"Best do that," Alex agreed seriously, and listened with growing sadness and no little indignation as Tony explained what had brought them to this point.

"See... It's easy for me to talk, he's not here to defend himself. And I don't want to whine. It's – " he grimaced and mimicked Ducky – "an unbecoming trait. Look, he was a good boss. Always grumpy, you had to learn fast because he got mad if he had to tell you something twice, but he was fair, always supported his agents, never dissed them in front of anyone... I admired him. Hit it off with him..." Alex thought this wasn't the man she'd seen, not even the grumpy part. What little she'd observed had been way more than grouchy – more like cutting and mean-minded. She listened, and hardly tasted her food. When Tony reached the end of his narrative, she speared a harmless little prawn viciously.

"'Bout the only good thing I can think of about all that is that your accent's got better and better," she growled, switching back to English.

"No kidding?" Tony tried to raise the spirits that had sunk deeper and deeper as he'd told his tale. "We should speak it more often, then, cuz I was copying you. Well, that's good, isn't it? I should never think I can't learn anything from my probie!"

Alex gave him a half smile. "Well, you can practise on me and Jasmine any time. I'm sure Aunt Jackie would help too... Jackie's short for Jacinta. She's from Ensenadas, on the Baja, you know?" She didn't give him time to answer before changing tack. "Boss..." she went on, with an air of someone steeling herself, "Look, this is pretty obvious, but did anyone check Gibbs for residual brain injury after he came out of the coma? I mean, he checked himself out of hospital, came back to NCIS, yelled at that politician type, then left. What sort of a state was he in?"

Tony nodded his approval that she remembered details that clearly, but answered wryly,"Ducky said OK as far as he could tell. And yeah, he was passed fit before he went back into the field; the Director told me so. Passed the mandatory psych eval too, not that he can't blag it... thanks for trying, Alex, but hell, I wish I could blame that."

Another prawn was skewered, and Alex finally began to do her food some justice. "OK, what about PTSD? He must have suffered from that!"

"Yeah, I'm sure he did." Tony frowned sadly. "How could he not? As far as that goes, I understood his leaving... taking time to clear his head, grieve again... but not the cutting us off – well, me and McGee, and the Director. And Ducky, of all people! Abby sure knew where he was, and turns out Ziva did too. Asked Abby maybe. That hurt; I mean, Abby never told us she knew exactly where he'd hidden out. Guess he asked her not to and she took him at his word – but she cried herself to sleep all over me with missing him, and never told me what she knew." He frowned angrily at where his wandering, vocalised thoughts were taking him. "Am I just calling him a quitter because he left me? Am I jealous?"

"Perhaps, a little," Alex said honestly, "but you've got a very good reason to be. You said, 'as far as that goes.' There's more?"

"I told you, whining's unbecoming."

"So's smacking him in the mouth, and the satisfaction would only last for a minute or two. If moaning to me's your only option, take it!"

"You're a precious gem, Agent Dominguez. OK... he's grumpy and sour with McGee, paternal and secretive – shared, that is, with Ziva, although it looks like he's trying to stop her having anything to do with me – and for me he saves his very best moods. Don't know how that's post traumatic stress – wouldn't he be the same with everyone? Let's give him the benefit of every doubt here – and still all you can say is he just hates me, and I don't know why."

"I'd say it's not your problem any more, but it is. Because you don't hate him."

Tony saw she'd finished,tossed some money on the table, rose and turned away slightly so Alex wouldn't see his face. "Never had a Dad worth speaking of... I was starting to think maybe... what the hell, not any more. Come on, mi prueba, let's get back to investigating the man himself." She fell into step beside him, and after a few moments, he said, "Y gracias."

They walked back thinking their own thoughts, and would have been surprised at how much they paralleled each other.

To work with him, she'd needed to know the background, and she was profoundly glad and relieved that he already trusted her enough to tell her the whole story, not the potted version. She wondered where the Gibbs had gone who'd brought her Boss back here as a young man, and told him 'you don't waste good'. It hadn't taken her long at all to realised that good was what he was, on many levels and in many ways. For all that she'd been abandoned with a baby to care for at the age of twenty, and done it, and her studies well, she still felt impossibly young and green in comparison with him; with what he'd done and experienced in his life – and that father comment was another glimpse he'd allowed her. They were off to a good start; she'd keep it that way. She wasn't ever going to let him down.

He was thinking that something must be going well, since everything that had happened so far had confirmed his first judgement. She was shrewd and a quick learner; she was also intuitive and compassionate, and wise for her age – and hey, if she wasn't a good person, then he didn't know what the definition of one was. He felt incredibly old and jaded alongside her, but he wasn't ever going to make her the same way. He'd always have her six, and never give her any reason to regret coming to work for him.

He was aware that all three of his old team glanced up, while trying to look as if they weren't, when the elevator chimed. The only one who met his eyes was McGee, who tried a tentative smile. Tony returned it as he went by; he didn't want to be churlish. Maybe Tim hadn't spoken to him because Gibbs was always there... if he'd been in Probie's position, he'd have been keeping his head down himself.

They'd barely sat down when Alex began to frown, and leaned in towards her screen, as if by peering closely at it she could intimidate it into changing what it said.

"Got something?" Tony asked levelly.

Alex bit her lip. "Come and look." She pointed to her left; if Tony came to that side and she turned her screen towards him, nobody passing could see it. When he was alongside her, she spoke very softly. "I left this running over lunch. Don't worry, my screen was switched off. Tony... truthfully, I did it to protect him..." He just looked at her encouragingly, although the expression on her face had his heart sinking. "They were all Marines." She kept her voice to a murmur, but the worry was still clear. "So... I thought I'd check for any association he had with any of them, to avoid anyone saying conflict of interest, or favouritism. Look." She didn't highlight anything, but wiggled her cursor back and forth to indicate the relevant line. Oh boy...

The suspect Sam Neville's father, Lieutenant Colonel Hillier Neville, had been Gibbs' Commanding Officer.

They sat in silence for a while. Tony still didn't believe Gibbs was involved in any way, although Alex, after hearing her Boss's story, was quite disposed to believe the worst anyone told her about him. The one sure thing, however, was that any outsider seeing that alarming piece of information would have no problem accepting the former Marine's guilt.

Tony asked finally, "Has the program finished?"

"Yes, Boss, it'sdone."

"No other connections?" Alex shook her head.

"Right... I don't want to be seen trotting up the stairs to the Director again, and I don't want to write this down anywhere, including email. I'll go somewhere quiet and fill her in by phone, and be right back." He stood up. "Nice work, even if I don't like the result. OK... find out everything you can about Daddy Neville, relationship with son, past and present relationship, if any, with -" he flicked his eyes across towards the MCRT – "and I'll -"

"You snake!" The yell was heard all over the room.

Abby marched out of the elevator and across to the two agents, and without breaking stride, swung her arm in a wide arc. She slapped Tony across his face so hard he saw stars for a moment, and took a step back to keep his balance. The goth brought her hand back for another swing, only to find her wrist grabbed by a woman half a head shorter, but with a grip of steel. For a moment she debated resisting, but thought better of it. Alex let go slowly, but stayed where she was.

Tony blinked, and when the pretty lights stopped sparking in front of his eyes, he said calmly, "Abby, you were told to do that test blind, not look up the file number." He didn't put his hand up to where a livid white mark was reddening along his jaw.

"I knew you were up to something! You're investigating one of Gibbs' cases. How could you -"

"Yes, Abby, and now the whole bull pen knows it."

Abby looked alarmed about that for all of a second, then brushed it aside. "How could you do that to him? How could you start poking into one of his cases?" She began to lunge forward again, and Alex simply stepped in her way. Tony almost smiled, and his eyes flicked to his probie's in gratitude, before he turned back to someone he'd always adored as an eccentric, free spirited little sister. His calm was utterly reasonable, and ominous.

"I lead the cold case team, Abby. I poke into any case I think I should, or that's given to me. It's my job."

"It's Gibbs' job if it's his case! Why didn't you want me to know whose it was? Are you too afraid to face him?"

"D'you remember who else told you to do it blind? Who else's instructions you flouted?" He lowered his voice. "It was a secret for a reason, Abs, and now everyone within earshot's wondering what's going on with one of Gibbs' cases." He pointed over her shoulder. "Including Gibbs. You don't know what you've done, Abby." He paused. "Did you find anything?" She hesitated; Tony groaned. "Did you do any tests? Look, go and do them, we'll need something even more urgently now."

Abby's mouth opened again, but it was Gibbs who spoke. Striding round the end of the partition to Tony's side, he said flatly, "DiNozzo, if you've got anything new on a case of mine, ya give it to me."

It was the first time the Marine had spoken to him since he'd stormed out of the elevator, days ago. Tony looked at him bleakly. "I haven't. And if I had, I wouldn't."

"Whatcha mean, you wouldn't?" Gibbs stance was aggressive, and his voice had risen.

Tony stayed calm because he had to. They were attracting even more attention than Abby's antics had, putting paid to all his and Alex's attempts to be discreet. He tried damage limitation. "It's a cold case, Gibbs, like any other. Nothing special. The fact that you were team lead on it's immaterial. Cold case – so, my case."

Gibbs glared. "You're lying." Tony's chin reared up, and the older man actually backed off a little. "Ya not telling me somethin'. It's been opened for some reason. I want that case."

"You can't have it, Gibbs. Haven't you got enough live cases to deal with?"

To Tony's surprise, Tim said quietly, "That's true, Boss... it's a cold case team's job to take the long-term stuff to free up the field teams." He tried hard not to sound disparaging, as he knew that Tony and his trainee would go into the field any time they needed to, and anyway he didn't want to fuel Gibbs' disdain, but it didn't work.

"Ya think? My cases; I don't want any cold case desk-jockeys anywhere near them." He glared again at a wincing Tony. "Which one is it anyhows?"

The big Italian's patience was stretching just a little, but he used what he had left. "Gibbs, if you don't know what case it is, why d'you want it? Other than to keep it away from me – and my fellow desk-jockey?"

"Damn it, DiNozzo, don't even think about playing with me! Which case is it?"

"Oh, I'm not playing, Gibbs." His voice was half the volume of his former team leader, the anger laced with pain that was audible to probably everyone but Gibbs. He looked around. "I'm trying, for your sake, not to attract an audience here. You want to talk about it, follow me. Alex, you do that search, huh?" He turned away and stalked off towards the conference rooms, not bothering to look to see if Gibbs followed him.

Tim went over to Abby, who'd been silently watching the storm she'd provoked. "Abs," he said, maybe more gently than he felt she deserved, "if Tony said he needs those tests, whatever they are, done quickly, he's serious about needing them. Why don't you go and see what you can do?"

"But he shouldn't be looking at -"

"Yes, Abs, he should, and you know it."

"They might be -"

"Killing each other? Not Tony's style. And you didn't have to hit him either. Abby, the tests." He turned her in the direction of the elevator.

He watched the forensic scientist as she left, and a voice spoke softly behind him "Thank you for defending him. Your boss won't be happy." Alex didn't feel terribly kindly disposed towards McGee, although Tony hadn't been particularly scathing of him at lunch time; she could still read between the lines when 'lack of support' was mentioned. However, she could see now that it took all kinds of balls to stand up to Gibbs at all.

Tim turned towards her; in the turmoil of his feelings just then there was no room for residual embarrassment. He shrugged sadly. "Maybe I should have done it before... it's just hard to know what to do for the best. I've been trying to keep things together... on an even keel, but any idiot can see it's not happening. I thought it must be Tony's fault, but it's... not, you know?"

"Yes, I believe I do. It's a bad situation; we both have to support our leaders, and do the best we can."

On an impulse Tim said, "Maybe we can help... support each other. Compare notes. I'm not trying to find out what the case is, or hit on you, but first chance we get, let's have coffee together – talk things over."

Alex smiled. "Good idea. Let's do that."

On the other side of the partition, Ziva frowned. First Tony and this rookie, now Tim. Where would it leave Gibbs? Where would it leave her?

Tony walked into the conference room, flinging the door wide and leaving Gibbs to catch it or not if it swung back – it was up to him. He was angry, and hurt, as deeply as he could be; the hell, he'd been expecting it and it still burned like acid. He went over to the window and stood looking down on the river; he knew Gibbs was behind him, and waited for him to speak first.

"Ya gonna tell me now which case it was?"

Tony turned slowly. "Seven years ago. You and Stan Burley, two man team. Dane Lishman, twenty-two, Marine PFO. Hit and run outside a restaurant. Yeah, I see you remember."

"I remember all my cases, DiNozzo, especially the ones that don't get cleared." Gibbs' eyes were hard and hostile, and Tony wondered, for the thousandth time, where his Boss had gone.

"And ones where the suspect was the son of your former Commanding Officer."

"There was no suspect! There wasn't enough evidence. You saying I didn't do my job properly because I knew someone? You saying I let someone get away?"

"Wrong on the first bit. There was a suspect, but yeah, there wasn't enough evidence. Now there's none." He rattled off the facts emotionlessly; Dr. Lishman's visit, the stolen papers and the empty evidence box, and that suited Gibbs even less.

"So I stole evidence? I tampered? You trying to hang that on me?" Tony found himself grabbed by his shirt front and pushed up against the wall. "You trying to disgrace me, DiNozzo? Get me fired? Take over my team?"

"No, Jethro, you damn' fool," a voice came from the doorway. "I asked Tony to take on this case, because he's the one person in the entire agency I could trust to prove you didn't do it, not happily hang you out to dry. Back off."

Tony smoothed down his shirt front, and turned away from Gibbs. "You talk to him, Jen," he said thickly as he headed for the door. "I've had it."

TBC

AN: Empecemos por el principio – let's start at the beginning.