Tag to 'Grace Period'

Tony helped himself to a drink and then sat down wearily on his couch. After a few minutes gazing into space he exerted himself enough to look at the mail he had collected on his way into the apartment: bills, circulars and a letter addressed in handwriting he thought he should recognise. He tore the envelope open.

Dear Tony

I guess you may be surprised to be getting a letter from me …

"Well, yeah," said Tony, "seeing as I went to your funeral three hours ago." He loosened his black tie, took another sip of his drink and continued reading.

I guess you may be surprised to be getting a letter from me but who knows what's about to happen? The Director wants to see me on Monday to talk about a re-assignment and she may want to transfer me straightaway. So, in case we don't get a chance to talk, I thought I'd write.

Anyway, I like writing letters. Do you remember those letters that Gibbs confiscated from Guantanamo? Admittedly there wasn't much to do down there but that wasn't the whole reason I wrote letters. There's something comforting about seeing a letter on your doormat, knowing someone's taken the trouble to write. And you can touch a letter afterwards – you can't do that with a phone call and how many people print off an email? My mom kept all the letters my dad wrote to her; tied up with red ribbon (yeah, I know it's a cliché) and every now and then she'd hide herself away and read them. Don't worry, I don't expect you to tie this up in ribbon and sleep with it under your pillow!

Especially now that you've got a real girlfriend. Never thought I'd see the day: Tony DiNozzo all grown up. Sorry. I realise that's the tone, the attitude I've always had with you – a bit mocking, a bit cruel, always on the alert in case you got the upper hand. But this week, this horrible week, I saw something else. Do you think it takes tragedy to make us see more clearly? If so, message to whoever's listening upstairs, 'I can see clearly enough now. Don't give me any more help!'

My team were great, Tony. Can you imagine how you'd feel if you lost Gibbs and McGee? I guess you could: you lost Kate. I've felt in a sort of fog ever since it happened. One moment they were there and the next, gone … for ever. How do you get over that, Tony? Everyone says I will, that the pain will get less. And, another cliché, I believe them but that hurts even more. I feel I'll be letting them down – again – if I ever think of them without it hurting as much as it does now.

Surprisingly, Gibbs was almost helpful. No pity, no quarter given. Bastardness was dialled down a notch or two. But I really didn't, really really didn't, want anyone to be nice to me. And it's not like I deserved it anyway. I lost my team. I don't think that's forgivable.

And also surprisingly – sorry, bitch mode is still in operation – you were helpful too. Not when you did that weird joke thing in the squad room but when we were in the room where it all happened. It wasn't so much what you said – although thank you for trying – as what you did. Apparently Gibbs said he was relying on you to find answers about how the attack happened and, as I watched you prowling round that room, I realised that I did too. I realised, despite all my putdowns and your clown face, that I knew you're one hell of an agent. All my fears and anxieties were trapped in that room but they could wash over you like a rock and you wouldn't give way. And that was comforting because at the moment all I want is to catch the people who killed my team; I don't think I'll be able to move on until that's done. Almost the only that's helped me this week was seeing you do your job – the DiNozzo way (!) – because it made me realise that we will get the answers we need. Because you're on the case.

I've often wondered where you and I went wrong. Perhaps if we hadn't met in Guantanamo where I was prickly and on my dignity? Perhaps if Gibbs wasn't always in grizzly bear mode whenever I got within shouting distance of you? I don't know. Perhaps it wouldn't have made any difference, perhaps our stars were never meant to be aligned? You've probably got a movie quote in mind already. But today, when you admitted you're in love, I saw something different. Don't worry, I'm not about to declare undying love for you, I'm not going to turn up on your wedding day and make a scene. I wonder if Gibbs would shoot me if I did?

Sorry. Usually people like getting my letters. They say I have a gift for writing them. Doesn't seem to be working tonight. I can't concentrate. I haven't been able to concentrate all week and I'm terrified that I wasn't concentrating when my team was killed. Was it my fault, Tony?

Anyway, when I saw you today. All serious and focussed. Shy and self-deprecating about being in love, I saw something different. Do you think we dismissed what we had too easily? I assumed our attraction (and we were attracted, weren't we?) was all hormones, all physical but perhaps there was something more, perhaps our minds were drawn together as well. Hope that doesn't sound too much like some romantic novel. I don't mean it to. I just wonder whether we might have had something.

I guess it didn't help that I've got into the habit of thinking I have to assert myself in every situation. Well, it got me a team lead and got you still being Gibbs' second. Sorry, that wasn't tactful, back to my default position. But I do wonder if I've paid a price: fighting every corner, winning every battle, insisting on every right … is that why I'm writing this alone in my apartment? When you look as strong as I pretend to be there aren't always many people queueing up with Kleenex and chicken soup. Although I have a feeling that you'd be here if you could, you'd brave the Cassidy glare to see if I needed anything. But I suppose that after being scorched by the Gibbs' glare, the Cassidy glare hardly even registers!

I guess I want to repeat what I said to you this afternoon. If you love your girl, tell her. I've learned this week that we shouldn't wait for a better time - because there might not be one. Don't be put off by what other people think. Is that what we did? Did we listen to other people saying we were too much alike for it to work? Did we waste our opportunity? Tony, truly, I'm not making a pass at you! If we had a chance, it's long gone but, almost for the first time, I realise what a good person you are. And what a good friend you've been - without any encouragement from me! And it's because you're my friend that I want you to have a chance at happiness. Take it. For me. Please.

Of course, I don't expect you will. I can't imagine what type of explosion it would take to rock your world before you took my advice. And especially dating advice! But just in case my words can make a difference … just do it, Tony. Tell her you love her.

If I'm still in the DC office next week after you read this, do me a favour and don't laugh when you see me. Or make some joke which will make me regret all this. But a hug would be good.

Paula

"Thanks, Paula," whispered Tony when he finished the letter, "and I wouldn't have laughed. And I might have hugged you even if Gibbs had been watching." He raised his glass in silent tribute.