Warnings: Mm I guess I'd better warn any Leon Vance fans out there that this chapter could offend. Aw what the heck... unless you are a Tony fan don't bother reading. Seriously, have to wonder why people who are clearly Tony haters would waste their time and mine complaining about this story, especially as it is clearly marked as Tony-centric. Don't mind objective criticism but the inane and inaccurate, non-canonical and also non factual claims frankly leave me tearing my hair out. Thanks to the rational reviewers who eloquently explained why DiNozzo's self defense during his attempt to arrest Rivkin was in no way unlawful and was in fact, entirely justifiable. The only problem with such explanations is that despite you both clearly possessing first hand knowledge of the law, I'm almost certain that some people will refuse to accept facts because it threatens their long held prejudices, I guess like some people persist in believing that the earth is flat. While I feel I have been pretty patient, I'm giving fair warning to serial pests that sending whinging comments repeating the same tired old complaints about mean Tony that you've sent to me before and frankly you can't substantiate will now be deleted immediately. I suggest instead, you direct your energies into writing your own fan fictions.
Gratuities: As usual I have to thank Arress for wrangling my irritating commas into submission and being a sounding board for the story. This chapter and the next are much indebted to my beta for her suggestions and support. I ended up seriously unable to write and in the end was forced to turn to a short story just to get things flowing again. Arress' assistance got me back on track so sorry for the delay but without her help this chapter would have taken a lot longer. Oh yeah and you all know the rules...any mistakes my bad.
A/N Thanks to everyone who left feedback, faved or alerted. I appreciate your support. I think I've said before that writing is a very solitary past time although I guess in some ways the characters in my stories end up becoming real the longer I spend with them (and yeah that does sounds a little creepy). Anyway... feedback is like oxygen to a writer. So thanks again for everyone who takes the time and effort to actually leave feedback for me even if it is just a couple of words. I especially love when someone zeros in on a little gem I've placed into the chapter and someone lets me know that it was noticed and appreciated.
FYI the next chapter is the long anticipated 'chat' between Gibbs and Tony. Hope you enjoy :)
What a Difference a Year Makes: 8760 Little Hours
Chapter 7 Ne'er the Twain Shall Meet… Well, maybe Part 2
As they moved agilely across the running path that wove it's way along the Anacostia River running in tandem, the partners moved in harmony, although Tony had to alter his stride to match his handler's, shortening it quite a bit since at six two his legs were much longer than Ceinwen's five foot seven and a half inches. They ran to keep in shape obviously, but with Tony's upcoming role in the remake of Magnum P.I., the producers wanted him to bulk up a bit for the role, and so they had hired a personal trainer to supervise his training regimen. But Tony also ran because often times on the set there was a Hell of a lot of hurry up and wait, and even though he tried to do as much of the less dangerous stunts as they would allow him to, he was quite frequently bored. Running had always been a panacea to him ever since college, when he ran to stay in peak physical condition and it helped him relax when he was stressed or helped him to think. Now he went running with Ceinwen as a way of combating the boredom that he was experiencing in not investigating crime anymore.
Running and a rigorous exercise regime weren't the only strategies Tony had in place to keep his active brain busy enough so he didn't go stir crazy. He was learning to play the oboe and the mandolin, and his handler was tutoring him in French and German. He had plans to learn Indonesian, Farsi and Arabic after he became fluent in the romance languages, and had also had a word with a Metro PD homicide detective who he'd work with years before in Philly, and he'd agreed to let him have access to their cold case files as a consultant to see if he could give them some fresh leads on cases that had been declared not just cold but positively arctic. It wasn't the same as chasing leads and running down dirtbags, but it was better than nothing, and at least he felt like he was helping victims' families to find some answers. In the last year they'd already cleared 13 cases where there had been no expectation of being solved, and there were also strong prospects for arrests in another four cases. He knew that in time his Intelligence role would step up the pace as his movie profile grew, but in the meantime he needed to stay busy or drive himself and Ceinwen crazy.
As they ran along the running track that was familiar to him, Tony reflected on how grateful he was to have his handler by his side as he dealt with the stress of returning to his old stomping grounds. She was helping him to stay focused on remaining undercover in his new role as superficial, narcissistic actor. He knew that many people would say that there wasn't any difference between his real identity and his new undercover persona, but in some ways the similarities made it trickier than playing someone who was dramatically different. She was doing a great job of keeping him grounded and sane. Looking across at her as they ran she grinned at him when Matt the trainer yelled at them that they were taking a break in five to do some abdominal exercises.
Tony grimaced at her, "Tell me again, Lovely, why we had to hire him, hey?"
She smirked at him. "The producers want you bulk up a bit, Babe, and besides, you need to start collecting an entourage even with your athletics background. Besides, he's easy on the eye," she smirked, teasing him playfully. "What's wrong with a bit of eye candy, anyway?"
He snorted, wondering if she was being facetious or was just a bit clueless. "Hey, Babe, you do realise that Matt doesn't play with girls, don't'cha?"
"Tony, I'll have you know that Matt checks me out all the time."
"Trust me, Ceinwen, he's admiring your designer labels, not what's in inside the clothes, either that or he's admiring your muscle definition," he smirked.
She pouted, "Don't tell me you're jealous, Babe, 'cause otherwise I'd have to conclude that you are falling for stereotypes that all muscle bound gym junkies are gay and you aren't a bigot."
He smiled at her adoringly. "Who wouldn't be jealous of guys checking you out, Lovely? Have to be crazy not to worry that someone as gorgeous as you isn't going to be the object of lust and desire. It's just that this particular personal trainer just happens to be gay – he told me when I hired him," he confessed, amused.
"Okay, how did I miss that?" She mused aloud. "Well, I guess that explains a few things, Tony. Matt's not checking out your muscle definition when he watches your butt, I guess."
"Oh eww, Babe, I did not want to know that." He looked over his shoulder to make sure Matt wasn't ogling him and when he turned back Ceinwen noticed he had a steely-eyed expression that she'd learnt meant he was angry.
"Tony, what's up? They back again?" He nodded wordlessly, his lips pinched. "Gibbs or Vance?"
"The Toothpick," he growled.
"Any idea why their shadowing you?" she asked curiously.
Tony shook his head then smiled slowly as something occurred to him. "Well… he might be a touch pissed with me after Jackie Vance and the fruit of his loins came to visit on the set the other day. I signed a couple of autographs for Kayla and Jarred and showed them around the set, and I let them watch filming and run amok in the catering tent." His eyes glinted with merriment.
Ceinwen shook her head, despairingly. "O-kay… so why does Vance want to shoot you now, Sweet Pea?"
Grinning wickedly, he confessed, "Well, Jackie might have invited me, um, us to dinner while we're in town." He said innocently, grinning what she had labelled his cherub smile that looked as if he was as pure as the driven snow when nothing could be further from the truth.
Giggling, she raised her eyebrows. "Tell me you didn't accept the invite, please, Babe!"
Looking shocked he shook his head emphatically. "Bite your tongue, wench! How could you even ask me that? I'd rather rip out my eyeballs and suck on them before I'd eat at Director Dumb-ass' table, pinkie swear!"
"So… why's he so mad then, Tony?" She asked, knowing he'd done or said something that would get up Leon Vance's nose.
Chuckling he tried to look virtuous. "Well… see… I might have said that we were busy attending fundraisers while we were here and I might have sort of led them to think that since the Director had agreed to sponsor a table at the black tie dinner for the Carlie Weber Foundation, and that I was sure it would be fine if Jarred and Kayla came with their mom and dad and I'd see them all there."
His handler looked delighted. "Vance is sponsoring a table…really? That's great. You never told me that he agreed to that, Tony."
He looked a bit sheepish, but mostly mischievous. "Yeah...well technically, Lovely, he hasn't exactly agreed… not yet anyway. But I have a strong feeling that he'll be handing over ten grand real soon. That's probably why he wants to have a word with me… or maybe he just plans to shoot me." He sniggered.
Realisation dawning, she giggled delightedly. "To quote the fabulous John Inman – you are awful but I like you," She declared seeing his confusion. "Classic British sitcom from the 1970's called Are You Being Served. Sort of in the vein of the Carry On movies," She explained. Seeing the blank look, she shook her head pityingly. "Oh, Baby, your education is sadly lacking, especially for someone who has dual American/English citizenship. I'm going to get all of the classic British situational comedies and we are going to have a marathon."
Tony shrugged, he was hardly going to object to curling up on the couch with Ceinwen watching DVDs, and he figured that it would be a good thing to get in touch with his English roots. Besides, when it came to comedy, the Poms came up with great ideas and the Americans bought the rights and made pale imitations of the original shows. They were always much more prudish when it came to humour, too. The Carry On films were good examples of how much smuttier the Brits were, if the two he'd seen were anything to go by. While the sitcoms in America still had Lucy and Desi sleeping in twin beds, the Carry On movies were infinitely more risqué and rife with sexual innuendo.
As they stopped running to go through the next set of sit ups and push ups, Ceinwen glanced at the rather obvious figure shadowing them. "Okay, so if Vance is pissed with you for making him fork over 10 G's so he doesn't lose face with his wife and kids, what's Gibbs' problem? Did you put him down for sponsoring a table, too?"
Tony shook his head. "Nope…trust me, Hun, he wouldn't come and you wouldn't want him there, either. Gibbs doesn't play nice with others or kiss ass well. That's what he kept me around for." He finished, bitterly.
"Okay, so then why is he following you around like a puppy?" She asked, concerned.
Frown lines furrowed his brow as he considered the situation. "Don't really know, Babe. Except that Gibbs is a predator. He's an alpha wolf, if you pardon the analogy, and I pissed him off by leaving his pack without his permission. He wants to be the one to kick them out of his pack. In his mind, I guess he figures that I challenged him and now that I'm back, maybe he's feeling territorial."
Tony's handler frowned, trying to understand. "So what…you're saying he's wandering all over the Naval Yard, pissing on everything to warn you off because your presence here is threatening him?" She asked incredulously.
"Dunno…maybe? It makes more sense than Gibbs is star struck, doesn't it?"
"So, what now…keep on ignoring them and hope that they go away?" She asked, noting his bolshie expression with a degree of trepidation. Tony had a plan and he smiled at her and Ceinwen saw a wicked gleam in his expressive eyes. "What are you up to, Tony?"
"Shadow the shadowers, if that is even a word, Lovely, and turn the tables on them," He revealed, smiling as he formulated his strategy.
His handler didn't look anywhere near as excited about the prospect of confronting the pair. As far as she was concerned they were both bullies who enjoyed abusing the power that they held so they could make other people feel bad. She knew that Tony could look after himself physically, but this pair had the potential to upset his emotional equilibrium, Gibbs especially. He had a conflicted reaction to authority figures, yet for some reason Tony also seemed to care about what Gibbs thought of him, far more than what was healthy for him. Frankly, she blamed Tony's bastard of a father for the emotional abuse he'd practised as he poisoned his body and his family with alcohol along with Tony's mind and emotions during Tony's childhood.
If he'd felt that he was good enough or even loved as a child, he would never have seen Gibbs' abusive grudging attention as something to be strived for. As far as she was concerned, it was no coincidence that Tony had chosen as his former mentor, a man who was emotionally remote, had difficulty establishing and maintaining relationships after the death of his first wife, and had unattainable standards and expectations for his subordinates. The fact that he was also engaged in emotional bullying, believed that positive reinforcement was the devil's work, and that expressing emotions were nothing short of weakness undoubted attracted Tony because of the familiarity factor. She'd noticed that kindness and compassion embarrassed and confused Tony since he distrusted gentleness as coming too easy and, therefore, it must be insincere.
~ What a Difference a Year Makes: 8760 Little Hours ~
Several days later, as they ran along the picturesque running path again, Ceinwen flicked a quick glimpse behind them. "He's back, Tony." She hissed.
Not turning around or slowing down, he asked "Which one?"
Grinning as she matched his stride knowing he was shortening his so that they could run in tandem. "Director Toothpick," She confirmed, using Tony's nickname for Leon Vance, who apparently had the unfortunate oral fixation of chewing on toothpicks. Seriously, were all of the people working at that agency deranged?
Nodding, Tony had reached for his phone and spoke softly into it. "Yeah Jake, it's on. Meet you near the amenities block in ten. Thanks, man, appreciate it." Hanging up, he smiled at his partner." It's a go in ten, Lovely. You good to go?" He asked playfully.
Rolling her eyes, theatrically she smiled back at him. "Yeah, I think I can pull this off, Babe."
Nodding, he grabbed her hand to give it a squeeze, because as much as he hadn't been much of a touchy feely sort of guy, for some reason he couldn't seem to get enough when it came to Ceinwen. Stopping suddenly, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her in before twisting her around so they faced each other going in for a kiss. When they finally caught their breath and separated, she giggled girlishly. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining."
Shrugging he smiled at her with the shy genuine smile that melted her heart, not the over the top one he used to hide behind. "Felt like it." Pulling her in close again her whispered in her ear, "Just don't get too into character, okay?"
Chuckling at his obvious conflicted feelings, she whispered sweetly. "Pale imitation, Tony. Don't worry." She glanced at Matt their personal trainer who was running in place and staring out at the Anacostia river, giving them a semblance of privacy while they were lipped locked. "Okay, guys, race you to the amenities block," she called before taking off, hoping that her unfair advantage would compensate for their longer legs.
Grinning at Matt, Tony set off chasing his partner, yelling good-natured insults about cheating and karma as he chased her down, but not trying too hard. That was something that he appreciated about Ceinwen, she wasn't obsessed with being the best all the time. Whether it was work or play, she was comfortable enough in her own abilities that she didn't need to one up him constantly, unlike his previous female partners had needed to. Not surprisingly, he found himself trusting her to watch his back far more than Ziva or Cate, simply because he knew that she regarded backing him up wasn't just another opportunity to prove that she was better than he was. Even before they had gotten together, he felt comfortable knowing that she trusted him to watch her back, and that trust meant the world to him. Somehow they complement each other's strengths and weaknesses, and there was no need for them to compete professionally.
As he reached the toilet block a few seconds after she did he called to her. "Need to take care of business, Lovely." He disappeared inside and Ceinwen and Matt hung around, chatting while they waited.
~ What a Difference a Day Makes: 8760 Little Hours ~
Leon Vance watched as DiNozzo ran along the exercise path with his publicist, who if the make out session he'd just witnessed was anything to go by, was also the latest in a long line of girlfriends. The man was a serial dater, but it a bit clichéd to be dating your publicist, even for DiNozzo, although she was an extremely attractive woman. As he followed them and the personal trainer, who seemed to follow them around like a puppy, a part of him recognised that this was crazy. Apart from it being incredibly unseemly for the Director of NCIS to be following some two-bit actor who was a former federal agent, but Leon found he'd become obsessed with DiNozzo. At first he'd been ecstatic when he'd resigned, thinking that the agency would benefit from his departure, but now he'd do anything to be able to lure the man back onto the payroll again.
When he'd learnt that the former agent was going to be coming back to the Naval Yard to shoot a movie, he'd decided that the opportunity was too good to waste, that if he played his cards right, he could maybe entice the man into coming back again, maybe as a consultant… he figured he could get SecNav to sign off on the plan by pointing out the excellent publicity it would generate. He knew that Davenport was a media whore who was using the SecNav job as a stepping stone, and that he'd jump at anything that gave them good publicity. Vance had decided that if he had any chance to fix up the mess that the last year had wrought upon the agency, then DiNozzo's presence was a must. The problem was that Leon couldn't figure out how to get him to agree to come back to the fold. So, he found himself following him around the Navy Yard like some crazy-assed celebrity stalker hoping that he'd find inspiration, or more likely, divine intervention.
Of course, saner individuals would probably question why he didn't just come out and ask him straight out to return to the fold, but with his career hanging on the success of him pulling off this coup, at least in his mind, he knew it wasn't going to be that simple. To say that he and DiNozzo hadn't exactly hit it off was not an exaggeration. Truth be told, he found the juvenile, arrogant agent…ex-agent, to be extremely aggravating and he'd always considered that the man didn't take the job seriously. Frankly, he'd decided as someone born into a life of wealth and privilege, DiNozzo had probably bought his way into the position anyway.
No doubt, he'd never had to fight for anything in his life and had things handed to him on a silver platter while Leon had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today. And even when he'd been viewed as an expendable black man and sent on what was supposed to be a suicide mission, he'd managed to grasp the opportunity with both hands and turn it to his advantage. So, when he saw the way that DiNozzo mucked around in the bull pen and his utter disdain for authority, including him, he'd taken an immediate dislike to the man. He had to admit that he still found him personally abhorrent, but he could no longer argue that his influence upon not just his former team, but the whole agency, had been a surprise. And as much as it pained Vance to admit it, the effect had been highly beneficial, if his analysts and pencils pushers were to be believed. If there was one thing that Vance put his trust in, it was hard data and statistics, when coupled with the highly skilled analyses of his computer geeks.
Vance knew that he was a step away from the end of his political career, either at his own hand, or because he was rapidly losing what little credibility he still had with SecNav in turning around the mess that the Agency found itself in. He'd been tasked with cleaning up the agency in the wake of the La Grenouille and Oshimida/Decker fiascos, not to mention the whole Michelle Lee/Brett Langer mole mess, but then to add insult to injury, the last 13 or so months had been a nightmare and his time was running out. So, having identified a possible solution to many of the motivational ills that dogged the agency, and having it within his grasp, he was faltering about how to achieve it. Sure, it was dumb to be running around following DiNozzo and his girlfriend, but he couldn't seem to help himself, although he comforted himself with the knowledge that Gibbs was equally as pathetic. He'd noticed the lead agent of the MCRT team following the DiNozzo entourage, too.
Realising how foolish it might be if anyone ever found out, Vance would drop off his stalking patrol if he caught sight of Gibbs, but he wondered what Jethro's excuse was. Did he want to convince DiNozzo to come back to NCIS, too? Maybe they should start working as a team to achieve that end, even if they had become sworn enemies in the wake of DiNozzo's resignation. Leon Vance was nothing if not a pragmatist and he could work with unfriendlies, if it meant he got what he wanted. He really didn't want to leave NCIS under a cloud. He wanted to leave the agency because he had earned a promotion, maybe getting a step up the ladder like Morrow who got to play with the big boys, but ultimately he had always planned to be Secretary of the Navy before having a tilt at the Hill. Now, that ambition was looking increasingly like a pipe dream, and Vance watched as DiNozzo ducked into the head, obviously needing to take a leak.
As he took cover behind an 80-year-old oak tree, one of several that graced the banks of the river, he castigated himself for his outlandish behaviour. How would it look if anyone saw him, the Director of a federal agency, behaving like a teenage girl following around some pathetic minor star. As if his credibility wasn't already shot to Hell. Yet, when DiNozzo emerged from the head shaking his hands to dry them, Leon, after glancing around guiltily, set off after his quarry and his entourage once again.
Knowing that he was going to have to stop his demented shadowing fairly soon, or Cynthia was going to send a search party after him if he didn't return from lunch, he told himself he'd follow for just another five minutes more. He'd told everyone he was running on medical advice, which wasn't exactly a lie because ever since he'd parked his ass in the big chair, his blood pressure had shot through the roof. His beloved Jackie had put him on a low-sodium, low-fat diet, but that didn't mean he could take two hours in the middle of the day to run without it being considered strange behaviour and causing scuttlebutt to run rife. Honestly, the Navy Yard was already a hot bed of intrigue and speculation, so he didn't need to be contributing, especially if someone put two and two together.
Damn it to Hell, if he could find some way of getting DiNozzo on his own, he could talk to the man, who along with Gibbs, had made his life unbearable. He wasn't sure which one he hated most – they almost surpassed his hatred for Agents Riley McCallister and Whitney Sharp, although not quite since he would never forgive those assholes for sending him on that suicide mission when he was just a clueless computer geek at the Naval Academy. Scowling at the memory of what was supposed to be the shortest Intelligence career on record, he leaped high in the air at a familiar voice behind him.
"Long time no see, Leon. How's the family today?"
Spinning on his heels he found himself staring into the familiar features of the former senior field agent of the MCRT, who was not supposed to be sneaking up behind him since he was ahead of him, wasn't he? Granted he'd let them forge ahead so that he wasn't so obvious, but that didn't explain how DiNozzo had managed to sneak up on his six. Clearly, he hadn't lost his field agent skills in the last year.
Glaring at Tony for scaring the crap out of him and making him feel like an amateur for getting caught tailing him, he responded snarkily. As much as he needed to crawl to the asshole and get him onside, DiNozzo always managed to rub him up the wrong way with his smug arrogance. Reminding him that Kayla, Jarred and yes, even Jackie, thought he was the best thing since sliced bread and had sucked up to the buffoon and come home replete with autographs was galling to the supremely self-confident director and made him feel ill. But before he could formulate a politic reply, the ex-agent leapt into the breach.
"Ya know, Leon, you might want to think about organising some extra-curricular classes for your agents about how to tail a quarry discreetly, and while you're at it, sign yourself up for those classes, too. Well, unless you were trying to be obvious about following me around ever since filming started? If that was your agenda, 'good job', cuz I absolutely noticed you on the very first day we arrived. So kind of you to make me feel welcome," he smiled that blinding goofy grin that was guaranteed to provoke all of Vance's prejudices that he was trying hard to repress.
Chewing hard on his cheek as a way of tamping down his anger, the director glared at his former agent, forgetting that the man was impervious to it. Anyone who had managed to withstand Gibbs' death ray Marine stare for almost eight years, and even give as good as he got on occasion, wouldn't be easily intimidated. Knowing he had to say something, he forced down his fury. "Hoping to talk to you alone, DiNozzo," he managed, hating himself for the fact he was going to beg this obnoxious individual to return so he could help save his career.
The ex-detective cocked an eyebrow in mock astonishment, but Vance got the impression he was all that surprised. "Well, I know you aren't looking for an autograph, Leon, so let's not waste each other's time, since I know you can't stand me, and believe me, the feeling's mutual. So, what did you want to talk to me about?"
Vance growled, as the insufferable fool had backed him into a corner where any finesse or manipulation was difficult to pull off. The man seemingly didn't understand the intricate dance that was politics… that or he was simply too self-absorbed to care. Still, Leon was the one that needed him, so DiNozzo held all the cards, and he had to keep telling himself that. Swallowing the rising gorge that made him long to pummel the smug buffoon, he took a few deep cleansing breaths before proceeding. "Well, actually I was hoping that you'd consider coming on board as a consultant, DiNozzo. Maybe you could conduct some training sessions on effective surveillance techniques and how to evade a tail. As you point out, we could do with some retraining, and I'd really like to know how you managed to sneak up on me. I see you haven't lost any of your undercover skills in the last year since you left."
DiNozzo started laughing so hard he plonked his butt down on the grass beside the path. Tears streaming down his face, he held onto his gut, knowing that he was pissing off his companion majorly, but seeming not to care at all. "Oh, so the rumours of your imminent demise are obviously not as exaggerated as I assumed, Leon. Things have to be truly dire if you are coming cap in hand to beg me to come back. That's gotta give ya the biggest damn case of heartburn imaginable. Guess that explains the stalking… you WERE procrastinating because you couldn't bring yourself to approach me."
He sobered up and glared at the NCIS Director, who in turn looked as if he was practising for the International Gurning Championship where competitors compete to pull the most bizarre facial expressions. "Tell me, Leon, or will you be using Tyler when you um… retire? Why in the world would you think that I would agree to work for you again? We've already established that we abhor each other. What in the world makes you think that a narcissist like me would want to come back and work with you?"
Trying not to show his shock that Tony knew about his past, he also struggled to keep his temper in check. "We both know that while I may not like you, that doesn't mean you are a narcissist, a dilettante perhaps, pampered little rich boy definitely, but after you left I realised exactly how much you did for the agency and the people that work in it that remained unsung… until you weren't there anymore." He managed to stutter out, his face looked like he was sucking lemons.
Chuckling cynically, Tony reached up and patted Vance's arm condescendingly. "Wow, that's gotta smart, Leon, being nice to your sworn enemy, or should I call you Tyler? I never know quite how to address you; Tyler Keith Owens aka Teek or T.K.O. Quite the undercover gig, Director, or did you actually start to believe the lie after all this time? Must have been a shock when the real Leon Vance turned up dead? And if I can give you a little bit of advice, not reacting is also just as much of a tell, as overreacting. Let me give you a little tip, Tylon – get it? That's a combination of Leon and Tyler. Anyway, Tylon, your initial response should have been, what the devil are you talking about? If I didn't know before, you just confirmed my suspicions. Very sloppy," he lamented, gazing at the furious man benignly.
"Don't know what you're talking about, DiNozzo," Vance growled belatedly.
"Yep, that was pretty good, Tylon, just a couple of minutes too late. You needed to spit it out a couple of minutes earlier. At least no one can accuse you of being a premature ejaculator, Teek. You must be giving the little blue pills a workout I guess? Anyway, I'll bet you're dying to know how the Hell I found out about your little secret, so I'll enlighten you, cuz that's the kind of guy I am. It seems that being such an ambitious bastard, you've made quite a few enemies, apart from Special Agent McCallister, who must be so pissed that you ended up in the big chair when you were supposed to be in a pine box. And it seems that like your predecessor, Jen Shepard, you've managed to piss off the CIA, Tylon . Mm, it sounds like an alien from a Dr. Who episode, don'tcha think?"
Tony stopped and observed the tell-tale pulse of Vance's clenched jaw while he tried to skewer his former agent with the piercing glare of his deep chocolate eyes, although Tony remained unmoved. "Did SecNav ever tell you the CIA sent Gibbs a copy of your secret file? But apparently he just sat on it, so the CIA sent another copy to me. Cat's out of the bag, Tylon, and whoever's ass you managed to get up at the CIA…well, is not gonna go away. Guess they thought I was such a loose cannon that I'd leak it, and your good buddy Davenport might have covered up for you before now, but see here's the thing. Scuttlebutt around the traps is that his skeletons are rattling around the closet trying to get out, too, seems he was playing house with a working girl during Desert Storm and got her in the family way."
The Director wondered if DiNozzo was yanking his chain about Philip Davenport. He hadn't heard anything, but if Philip was vulnerable, it maybe explained a thing or two. God, what a big mess.
"So, if there's nothing else?" Tony stood up lithely, eager to finish up their talk.
The Director swallowed his anger, still trying to process the fact that someone in the CIA was running around with his secret file, knew about his past and was trying to destroy everything that he'd fought so hard for. There was no way he would give in to the bastards. And he knew looking at this infuriating, insufferable idiot, that he was going to have to grovel big time to pull it off, since DiNozzo was not making it easy. "Wait, Tony. You didn't give me an answer, the Agency really needs you right now, your country needs you…I umm, ah… need your help. Come back, please, and help us out."
Tony shook his head. Leon looked like he'd just drunk drain cleaner, or Gibbs' cup of coffee, but he was furious that the slimy manipulator would try to guilt trip him into returning because he was just looking to save his own ass, which was a lost cause anyway. "You know what, Leon? BITE ME! Why don't you ask your protégé? I'm sure a grad of MIT is perfectly capable of filling my pathetic shoes. Ya know, you're nothing but are a bigoted intellectual snob, but you were both jealous because I had the misfortune to be born to two people that had money, but who were biologically unsuitable to pass on their DNA. You and McGee- Hell Ziva, too, were so hung up on the mansion on Long Island that you never listened to the fact that I was disowned when I was twelve. I worked my way through college based on my own hard work and talent, and I brought myself up even before I was kicked out of "paradise", and let me tell you that filthy rich isn't all it's cracked up to be when both your parents aren't likely to be sober by mid-morning and you're a little kid all alone in a mausoleum. I don't owe the Agency or you a thing, not after Shepard lied to me so she could kill her Moby Dick and you used Ziva and me as bait to catch the mole, all the while treating me like dog crap. Clean up your own damned mess!"
