Tony's POV in Shalom.

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The summer Gibbs was retired was the longest of his life.

Summers in Cincinnati as a child were short and over far too fast. Summers in Columbus as a college co-ed were even shorter, half of it blocked out in a drunken haze. Summers as an adult were like any other season because he was too busy working to notice any of it go by any faster or slower than normal.

But the summer Gibbs was gone meant he had had to fill some pretty gargantuan shoes their fearless leader had left behind. It was hard to keep up with what the team wanted; they wanted him to be like Gibbs and anticipate their every action, their every answer. But they didn't want him to be like Gibbs; when he started practically mainlining caffeine just to keep up with the paperwork and the increased hours and the stress of leading a team they made fun of him.

It didn't help that they had known him first as the play boy and now couldn't respect him.

They still treated him like Tony instead of their boss. McGee argued back with him over things he never would have dared argue with Gibbs about. Ziva laughed at him openly and frequently when she never would have laughed at Gibbs to his face. Abby, well Abby treated him but that had more to do with the fact that she had always been so familiar with Gibbs.

However, she always reminding them that he was coming back. They all reminded him of that. Every time he went down into the lab he was assaulted by the images of the leader that had abandoned them.

Everyone else was too wrapped up in hero worship to remember that Gibbs had abandoned them.

But he couldn't forget.

His own father had been an asshole. Drove his mother to drink until she finally died of liver failure. Married younger and younger versions of Anna Nicole Smith. Cut his own son out of his life and his will.

He'd long since gotten over that particular brand of self-pity and had instead, at least mentally, adopted the stern former-Marine as his surrogate father.

And he'd abandoned them.

The only thing that made the self-doubts and the constant frustrations ease was nights spent at Ziva's place.

It started innocently enough.

He'd come over one evening holding a pizza and a DVD and she let him in with a roll of her eyes. Their latest case had been hard, too hard, and his abilities had been called into question over and over again. He'd just wanted a little company but Abby had been bowling. McGee had actually been out on a date. Even Ducky had had plans. Ziva had been a last resort but after that night she was always his first choice.

The nights he spent over there increased in frequency and duration until he was sleeping on her couch four, five nights a week.

Gibbs had told him to make his own rules to live by. His rule twelve was to never eat pizza for more than two meals in the same day. There wasn't a rule about sleeping with or dating or otherwise being romantically involved with someone he worked with.

But he'd never quite worked up the courage to kiss her.

Tony DiNozzo; seasoned play boy and expert at getting women had been afraid to kiss one girl.

It was hard to take something they'd established for a year and turn it into something new. He already knew they'd worked so well as partners. But what if that didn't translate the same way into a relationship?

And before he got a chance to find out Gibbs was back.

He said he wasn't staying. He said he was only there to help Ziva clear her name because she'd called him. He said he was going back to Mexico to drink beer on the beach as soon as it was over.

Another shot to the confidence that she hadn't even considered call him for help, she'd run straight to Gibbs.

He'd known as soon as Gibbs had come running back for Ziva it wouldn't be long until he was back for good.

And he'd also known that nights spent with his head in her lap with a couple of beer bottles littering her coffee table alongside an empty pizza box while yet another one of his favorites played in the background were over. If Gibbs was coming back then there would be a rule twelve again. There would be a line drawn across the bull pen again that they could tiptoe around but never cross.

He stood in Gibbs' basement next to the skeleton of a boat and stared hard at her solemn features and felt incompetent for having failed.

Whatever it was that he thought might have taken off between them after all the times they'd spent together that summer wasn't going to be going anywhere after all.

Because she'd called Gibbs instead.

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