Things went on okay from there. The day continued, and he went back to Gibbs' house later that evening, setting up camp on his couch. The two men were silent most of the way home, probably for many reasons, one of them, being that it was comfortable. Because there was no talking, there was thinking. Tony knew that both he and Gibbs were thinking about the case progress. Tony getting shot up in his apartment was not necessarily out of the ordinary, the orders coming from Rivearia was not surprising, the only thing that had a red flag, was the Israeli accent. They were still waiting for the DNA test that Abby was performing, but Tony could only think of one person, Adam. And when he thought of Adam, he thought of Ziva. The two were so often intertwined when it came to cases.
Gibbs went down to the basement once they had eaten and Tony was settled on the couch. Tony laid there, in the dark, in Gibbs' living room, and thought only of her, only of his brief phone call, of the sweetness he felt in hearing her voice.
"Ah" Tony said to himself, and then he sat up. He walked circled the living room once, walked into the kitchen and looked toward the basement. "No" he thought in his head. If I go down there, then I have to talk.
"Dinozzo,"
"Yeah, Boss"
"You coming down or what?"
Tony walked down the stairs, thankful that his decision had actually been made for him. On second thought, Gibbs was a functional mute, he was good at listening. Upon entering the basement, Gibbs pulled out a dusty chair from the corner of the room, blew on it, and half threw it in front of Tony. He then walked over to his work bench, emptied out a jar of nails, blew in the jar, and filled it a third full with Maker's Mark whiskey. He handed the glass to Tony. Tony spun the glass around in his hand and watched the golden brown liquid swirl. He looked up at Gibbs, who was not looking at him, but working on his new boat. The new boat appeared to modeled after an old small wooden toboat model that sat upon the work bench. On the back of the boat in gold script letters, was written the name Chickadee.
Tony knew that was his mom's name. He'd known Gibbs long enough to know this without asking or being told. "That's, beautiful, boss." Tony said, as he marveled at his bosses most recent creation. And the funny thing, Tony was thinking in his head, is that it wasn't beautiful. Not really. He didn't like the colors, thought the writing style on the back was too thick, and would have used different seats if he was doing it himself - which of course - he never would. So what makes it beautiful, he said to himself? From where Tony was standing, he could see the boat very clearly. The softly sanded wood, the careful detailing across the body, the light shine from the lacquer. But it wasn't looks. Gibbs was making that boat in memory of his mother. She was dead, long gone, by now. But he was bringing her back, by making something in memory of her life on this earth. The boat was kind of alive, Tony thought. It didn't matter what it looked like, that was obsolete. And then he thought back to this book he had read so long ago. He did read, much to ZIva's surprise. He just didn't talk about it, he had an appearance to uphold.
"Writing does not resurrect, it buries." He said out loud. Only, he didn't realize he had said it out loud until Gibbs looked at him, and dropped his tool on the wooden work bench.
"Tony, whats up? You gonna talk or what?"
"Uhmm" Tony coughed and cleared his throat, "I just can't clear my head. Did I make a mistake?"
"It wasn't your mistake, Dinozzo, it was hers."
That was important to Tony for two reasons. It was important because he had been blaming himself the whole time for walking away, but he only did what she asked. He had known this already, but should he have stayed anyway? That's what he thought his mistake was, going when he could have stayed anyway. Now, he knew that he was being respectful, and not stupid. The second this was important was much, much bigger than the first. Gibbs said that it was a mistake. He didn't say "It had to happen." he said "It was hers." implying that it was a mistake to walk away from what they had.
"Yeah." He sighed. "It sure was." That ended the conversation. Tony went upstairs. On his way up the stairs, practically in the doorway, he yelled down, "Thanks, boss." Gibbs just nodded his head, because he knew that he was right. This was something Tony should have known all along, something he deserved to know, not something that he had to be thankful for.
Tony went upstairs, but he didn't get back on Gibbs' couch, instead he got into his car. He drove home, back to his apartment, where he wasn't supposed to be. He just needed one thing, then he would leave. Besides, Gibbs knew that he was there and what he went to get, he didn't have to tell him for him to know. He walked into his apartment, grabbed a bottle of bourbon, and left. He wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, and anyone with half a brain knew that the boss pretty much never slept at all. In a flash, he was back in the basement, and the bottle was opened. Gibbs looked at Tony with satisfaction and gave a small chuckle. Tony poured two more drinks, and handed a jar of bourbon to Gibbs.
"So," said Gibbs, and then he nodded at Tony. Tony knew this was the 'If you came here to talk, then talk' nod, and so he did. They talked until it was too early in the morning to continue drinking, and then, they both went to sleep. They talked about Kate, Shannon, Kelly, EJ, Borin, Jenny. Well, mostly Tony talked, and Gibbs listened, occasionally adding in small phrases here and there. As soon as Tony got back on the couch and pulled the shades shut, Gibbs' phone rang.
"Yeah, we'll be right there." Gibbs said. Tony heard this and got out of bed. "New developments on the case." "Figures." Tony said, and then both men walked outside, into their cars, and drove separately to the Navy Yard.
