A/N: Wow, thanks for the many reviews! :) Really made my day. Hope you like this one, too! :)
Chapter Eight: Lies, Truths And Everything In Between
As his mind slowly swam into consciousness early the next morning, Tony tried to pretend to be still asleep but realized that he wouldn't be able to succeed because something was nagging at him in the back of his mind. His eyes still closed, he tried to figure out why he felt strangely elated and yet oddly devastated. What the hell had happened? He turned around and felt his shoulder protest painfully. It was when he remembered being shot at, being in the hospital and then Gibbs being the one to pick him up. After that, the memories seemed to be a bit fuzzy, though. Still not opening his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to figure out what exactly had happened. It was when the scent hit him. Sawdust… and coffee.
Damn.
So he was at Gibbs' house and hadn't dreamt that part. Or had he? He pried open one of his eyes and for sure, there he was. Gibbs' bedroom. Snapshots of the night before appeared in front of his inner eye and he groaned. Those stupid painkillers. Why had he, even as stupid as he was, taken them?
He slowly sat up now and saw his cell phone lying on the nightstand. He grabbed it with his good arm, flopped through his contacts till he found Abby's number and dialed. It only took two rings before the Goth picked up.
"Hey Tony. You okay? Arm hurting?"
"Hey Abs," he answered sighing. "Arm's good."
"But you're not okay," she observed, the concern clearly perceivable in her voice.
"Not quite. I'm at Gibbs'."
"Oooh, do tell."
"There's nothing to tell, he picked me up from the hospital and here I am now."
"You got to give me more here, T-Boy. So far, I'm missing the not-okay-part."
"Painkillers."
"Oh," was all that Abby replied before they sank into a rather long phase of silence. "What did you do?" she finally continued.
"Babble," Tony sighed and shrugged, wincing when his shoulder protested once again.
"Oh-Oh. What exactly did you say?"
"I don't know exactly," Tony groaned. "Think I started telling him stuff about the plan and that me in his bed was the predicted outcome or something, I don't know. Man, I'm so screwed."
"Not necessarily."
Abby sounded chipper all of a sudden and Tony furrowed a brow, wondering if his brain cells were still too slow this morning to process what exactly he was missing here.
"Yeah? Why's that?" he finally asked as Abby apparently didn't care to elaborate.
"Well… what did Gibbs do when you told him?"
Tony remained silent for a few moments, his mind suddenly wandering to the odd look on Gibbs' face when he had looked at him the night before and the slight blush that had been creeping up his cheeks (or had he imagined that?). He pondered whether or not to tell Abby about it but in the end decided against it for reasons unknown. Maybe this was a thing that he wasn't supposed to share after all because, really, that was kind of private, even if he wasn't even sure that it had actually happened.
"Nothing," Tony finally replied, choosing the safe way this time. "Just told me to go to sleep."
"Excellent," Abby all but squealed into her cell and Tony felt the sudden urge to hang up on her, she was much too cheerful for the kind of situation he was in. A dicey situation where he wasn't able to see any positive outcome.
"Abby," Tony said now. "Why the hell are you so happy about this?"
"Think about it, Tony," she continued and he was able to hear her smile even through the phone. "It's not that bad considering. You wanted to tell him anyway. Granted, this was not the way we wanted it to happen but well, what's done is done. You can't change it anyway. So you might as well beard the lion in his den."
"Where he's going to bite off my head - and not in the literal sense of the word."
"Stop whining and man up, DiNozzo. You have to face him anyway, so go ahead and keep me informed, you hear me? I'm a sucker for good gossip."
With that the line went dead and Tony briefly wondered if she had taken classes on phone manners from Gibbs. But as crazy as Abby's rambling was, she was right about one thing. There was no way he couldn't face the figurate lion, so he might as well get it over with. Sighing, he struggled to get up and was surprised when he saw a pair of sweats and an OSU-shirt lying on a chair next to the bed. He had no recollection of when he had forgotten those here but they were definitely his clothes. He managed to get on the pants but was once again failing at getting the sleeve of the shirt over his goddamn right arm. He'd have to shoot that damn perp for putting him in such a situation. Subtly shaking his head, he slowly made his way down into the kitchen, where, sure enough, Gibbs was already sitting, reading the paper, a cup of coffee (and probably not the first at that) in his hand. He glanced up as Tony entered and tilted his head ever so slightly at the sight.
"Need help with that?" he pointed at the shirt that Tony had carelessly thrown over his good shoulder.
"If you don't mind," Tony answered, his voice strangely strangled and he realized that his cheeks were slowly burning up.
"Sure," Gibbs just said and stood up and after a few sure movements Tony was fully dressed and flushed to crimson.
"Coffee?" the bossman asked as if it was an everyday occurrence to dress his Senior Field Agent.
"Yeah," the younger man replied, settling on one of the other chairs, putting his head into the palm of his left hand.
"You okay?" Gibbs echoed Abby's earlier question and Tony noticed the slight note of concern in his boss' voice now.
He couldn't deal with that. Gibbs wasn't supposed to be freaking worried about him. He should be angry with him, should be tentative or whatever. Anything but freaking worried.
"No," Tony finally said. "And you don't have to pretend, either."
"Pretend?" he prodded now, handing Tony a cup before he sat down right next to him.
"Yeah, pretend that all of this," Tony gestured around aimlessly. "Hasn't happened."
"Ah," Gibbs only replied and he could feel his eyes on him now but Tony refused to look back at him, sure that whatever expression Gibbs was sporting he wouldn't be able to take it.
Tony sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, desperately trying to find a way to talk about this. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to tell him. Write it off as insanity caused by painkillers? Tell him that he had been lusting after him for weeks now? Explain to him why he was unable to stop thinking about it? Or put his cards on the table? He just didn't know and the more time he was letting pass with no answer, the angrier Gibbs would surely become.
Tony knew well enough how impatient the man was and it was only then, that it struck him as odd that Gibbs hadn't said anything, yet. Curious now, Tony risked a glance into the other man's face and felt his breath hitch in his throat for a second. He was looking right at him, that odd look from the night before back on his face, his lips not quite curled into a smile or even a half-smile but the corners of his lips were definitely twitching. Tony wasn't quite sure what to make of that but at least, Gibbs didn't seem to be angry at all. He chanced to look into those icy-blue eyes which were staring at him so intently that for a moment, Tony forgot how to breathe. He recovered quickly though as he averted his glance again and instead found interest in the cup of coffee in front of him.
"Listen Gibbs," he finally started to explain. "Those things I said last night… it won't happen again. I didn't mean any of that."
Stupid idiot of a coward!
Why had he just said that? Tony had no clue whatsoever. This wasn't like him, he was a freaking man, he didn't run away from things ever. But who was he kidding? He had been running from this thing for weeks now, had denied it as long as he had been able to.
"So you didn't mean there was a plan?" Gibbs rudely interrupted his train of thought.
"Yeah. No. I mean," Tony stuttered, then took a sip from his coffee to buy himself and his dumb, idiot brain cells more time to think. "There was plan. But it wasn't…"
"Wasn't what?" Gibbs prodded again, his voice so calm that Tony couldn't help to look at him, look into those wary blue eyes again.
"It wasn't… you weren't…," he trailed off, having no idea how to continue with this.
Shit. This was even more awkward than their conversations in Gibbs' car the other day and Tony would have bet his entire collection of Cary Grant movies that it couldn't possibly get more awkward than that – ever. But well, once again, he had been proven wrong.
"I wasn't supposed to know?" the other man finally finished his sentence and Tony nodded, unable to even press out one single word by now.
Gibbs fell silent after that, still watching him warily as if Tony would explode sometime soon. Tony just stared right back at him, hoping that Gibbs wouldn't notice his shaky hands and breaths, wouldn't realize what kind of inner battle Tony was fighting there.
"DiNozzo," he finally replied, his voice gruff. "I'm good with sitting here all day and just stare at you. I got no problem with that but at some point you have to talk to me and knowing you, you've never gone as much as an hour without talking."
Despite himself, Tony let out a bark of a laugh and oddly enough saw Gibbs' shoulders relax at that. He hadn't even noticed that the guy was tense before. Strange.
"So?"
"Can't we just forget about it?"
Gibbs didn't reply anything, just raised an eyebrow and almost imperceptibly shook his head, waiting for Tony to finally spill his guts. Rubbing his hand over his face again, Tony sighed, trying to find a goddamn way to explain all of that to him.
"Fine. First of all, fair warning, I'm going to break like a thousand of those rules of yours… Okay," Tony took a deep breath and averted his glance from his boss again. "I'm sorry, okay? For all of this, I didn't mean to tell you that, I didn't mean to spill the beans last night. And I don't know what's wrong with me, either. But ever since I've seen you at that restaurant with that… woman a couple of weeks ago, I can't… there's…"
"What woman and what restaurant?" Gibbs interrupted his stammering, his voice actually sounding surprised.
"Uh, I don't know. Redhead, you know the kind you like. It was at that fancy Indian restaurant and for the love of god, I can't remember the freaking the name of it right now."
"Oh," Gibbs just said and he actually sounded amused now, causing Tony to look at him again.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, oh, Tony."
"That's all you've got say?"
"What am I supposed to say?" Gibbs retorted; his eyebrow raised again, his eyes looking at him curiously.
"I don't know," Tony answered indignantly, suddenly remembering the anger that had consumed him at the restaurant when the older man hadn't even acknowledged him. "Why don't you start by telling me why you acted like you didn't know me? I mean, I don't expect you to chit chat with me while you're on a date but, you know, a hello or even a freaking nod of your head would do."
Tony trailed off now, knowing that he made no sense at all. Why was he even angry at Gibbs now? He had no right to be. Nothing in the world gave him the right to feel that way at the moment and he wasn't even sure what it was that had made him snap now. Only as he stared into the amused face of the other man, he realized that he wasn't angry about the time at the restaurant but about the way Gibbs was treating him right now. Why the hell was he acting like that? Tony didn't get it, didn't the guy know that he was about to pour his heart out right before his eyes?
"Tony, listen," Gibbs finally replied and his voice was calm again. "You're right, I should have said something to you. I didn't think you'd care. Didn't you recognize her? She's the widow of Lt. Sanderson, the man we found dead at Rock Creek Park a couple of months ago?"
"Yeah," Tony slowly answered, suddenly remembering the case. "His brother beat him to death with a baseball bat."
"That's the one. I gave her my number back then, if she needed anything and we kept in touch and when she asked if I wanted to go to dinner with her, I couldn't say no because she's really not feeling well. In fact, she checked herself into the hospital to treat her depression two weeks ago. I was merely being friendly."
"Okay," Tony mumbled, dipping his head ever so slightly. "Sorry, that's none of my business."
"No, it's not and before you ask, I didn't talk to you because I promised her an evening free of anything that worries her. And I don't think seeing you would have helped with repressing the death of her husband and the investigation afterwards."
"God… Gibbs," Tony stuttered now, shaking his head vigorously. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"It's okay. I could have explained it to you afterwards, too, but I didn't know you cared."
"God, I feel so stupid now."
They fell silent once again with Tony wondering whether or not it would have made any difference had he known all of that before. He couldn't tell. All he knew was that if he hadn't seen the two of them together that night, this thing would have never gotten blown out of proportion the way it had. But then again, if it wasn't for that situation, maybe some other time would have triggered the same thing. Who knew and did it matter anyway? He didn't think so
"But you didn't want to talk to me about Mrs. Sanderson, did you?
"No. I wish, though."
Gibbs gave him a small smile again and Tony hadn't seen one of those in a very long time and his stomach suddenly felt all fuzzy. He subtly shook his head, trying to get out of his headspace, trying to repress the fear again.
"Look, I know what I've said last night sounded bad but… I… can't help it. I don't know what's wrong with me and I had planned to bury it somewhere really deep and not let it resurface ever… but then there was that night, when we got called in and I was drunk and Abby kept on needling me and… I… told her the truth why I was so distracted the last couple of weeks. And I swear I wasn't going to pursue anything . But Abby kept on insisting and seriously, she screwed so terribly with my mind that in the end I really thought all of this was good idea."
"So, all of this – whatever it is – is Abby's fault?" Gibbs retorted, his gruff voice back in place.
"No, I didn't mean it like that. She was just… pushing it and you know how she gets. She was just really… persuasive. So we've made this plan, which wouldn't have played out the way we, I mean, I wanted it to anyway because, frankly, it was stupid."
"The plan that was supposed to result in 'you in my bed'?"
"That's the one," Tony replied, trying to plaster a grin on his face but failing miserably.
He had started to sweat, his heart was working overtime by now and he heard his own pulse rush through his ears. He still didn't dare to quite look at Gibbs who had gone suspiciously quiet and still. Tony took a deep breath before he continued.
"See, I told you we should just forget about it."
Again, Gibbs remained silent and Tony finally turned his gaze upon him because, seriously, he wasn't even sure whether or not the guy was actually breathing now. He quickly checked the steady lifting and lowering of his chest before he let his eyes wander towards the other man's blue ones. The wary look from before had vanished completely now, only to be replaced by something that Tony couldn't help but describe as incredulity.
"Why?" Gibbs' quiet voice suddenly cut through the silence.
"Why what?"
"Why do you want that?"
And did his boss actually sound insecure now? No, Tony surely had to imagine that because why would he be? Tony's head was the one that was soon to be chopped off by Gibbs, not the other way around.
"Because," he started slowly, struggling with forming a sentence that would make sense. "I don't know."
"You don't know? What exactly don't you know?"
And yep, now he actually sounded as Tony had expected him to sound from the very beginning. Had dreaded he would sound. Angry – very angry.
"I don't know what I think anymore. I'm sorry, okay?"
"Stop apologizing. Just tell me what you want, Tony. Mess with my head? Is this some joke of yours?"
"No!" Tony cried out now, jumping up from his chair in one swift movement, ignoring the stinging pain in his right arm. "No, I'm not joking."
"Then… what, Tony?"
Tony sighed, slowly backing away from where Gibbs was sitting as if he was afraid that the guy would attack him. What in the world had he been thinking? He couldn't tell Gibbs stuff like that! He knew that he was dumb sometimes but this had to be the high point of stupidity. He had just ruined what had easily been the best relationship he had ever had with anyone. And for what? God, how could he have been so stupid to think that there might actually be something more hidden there? Just… how?
Taking another step backwards, his brain cells finally kicked back into thinking straight mode and he quickly pondered his options. He had to get out of here as quickly as possible, had to get out of here before Gibbs could seriously hurt him – physically and mentally. But was there even a way to do that? An idea finally formed in his head and it wasn't like he actually liked it but it was the only choice.
"I wanted to get my rocks off," he finally continued and his voice was surprisingly steady (Why was that anyway? Didn't he usually stutter whenever he tried to lie to Gibbs?). "And you were there and you know one thing led to another and here I am now."
Gibbs stared at him with wide eyes now, his skin slightly paler than usual, his forehead wrinkled. There were a few moments of pin-drop-silence before the older man stood up calmly (far too calmly for Tony's taste) and approached him, stepping into his personal space till they were face to face, their noses nearly touching.
"Get out," he then said his voice strangely strangled. "And don't even think of saying anything right now. Take your goddamn sick leave and then come back to work but don't expect anything other than a 'DiNozzo, grab your gear' from me."
With that, he turned around and left the house, the front door falling shut behind him with a loud bang.
A/N: Let me know what you think, please! :)
