A/N Thank-you to people who read, faved and reviewed. I always look forward to reading your thoughts. Responding to a couple of issues, no this isn't a death fic...well as much as anyone in remission from cancer can ever be said to be safe. Two of my family were diagnosed within weeks of each other... one went into remission and not the other and we are painfully aware that even after five years remission is not a guarantee. Also I was gratified to see that so many readers wanted to see Tony in a healthy relationship and approved of Emma. I understand that plans for Tony to grow and have a steady love interest this season have been re-evaluated because some 'fans' although I would argue that they aren't Tony fans, have objected vigorously to him being happy. Perhaps the true Tony fans need to flood the FanFic sites with Tony/OC romances to balance out all the TIVA er material out there and be equally vocal to the producers as the deluded people who think that Ziva is coming back. Finally, I wanted to respond to another review but this chapter is already too long so I'll save it til next time. :)

As to why Gibbs is avoiding confronting Tony - IMHO while he may be gung-ho at work about work related issues, when it comes to anything personal or to do with emotions he frequently adopts an head in the sand approach. He's spent 20 years avoiding working through his grief, continued to make the same mistakes resulting in a string of broken marriages and relationships and he hates admitting he was wrong, so I don't see him avoiding Tony as being all that out of character.

Finally, for a kid that literally brought himself up despite his appalling childhood, Tony's loyalty to his teammates and even his pathetic father is astonishing. He always reminds me of a rescue puppy (a typical OTT staffie, not the Saint Bernard that Gibbs labelled him as) who should be aggressive and unable to be rehomed yet is loving and loyal. Who is far from perfect, might pee on the rug when he gets excited and jump all over the humans pack with dirty paws or slobber on their good clothes. He might even nip and break the skin when he gets excited but not because he is aggressive or mean. It is just that he was never shown how to act appropriately around people and gets too excited when shown even small amounts of kindness. So why am I sharing my mental rambling with you, I hear you ask? Because for reasons too complex to get into here, I've changed my mind and decided I would share an excerpt from Tony's journal with you. Might even explain why Gibbs keeps avoiding him.

I Shouldn't Have To

Chapter 8: Changing It Up

Excerpt from Tony's journal:

The Boy That No One Wanted

Once upon a time there was a little boy who grew up with a mother and a father who were addicts, and because of their illness, were often cruel and forgot that they needed to look after him. One thing they did remember to teach him was that no one could know that they were sick and couldn't make it through the day without a drink or pills to make them feel better. So the little boy became really good at covering up for his parents so that no one knew how sick they were. His father also taught him lessons that he would carry with him for the rest of his life – that his family never cried fainted or asked for help. So he also became really good at pretending that nothing was wrong and got so good that no one ever had a clue that he was lying all the time. When his mother took him to the theatre to see movies sometimes, it was like magic. He quickly lost himself in a world that let him escape from his life and at the same time, he also got to see how normal people lived.

The boy's mother died when he was eight years old and his father forgot about him, abandoned him as he drank even more and then formally disowned him when he was 12. He was bullied so badly at boarding school that he went one better than completely obliterating it from his memory – that was so passé. Instead, he flipped the whole process around, convincing himself that he was the perpetrator and not the victim since that at least gave him a modicum of control over a life where he felt unloved and unwanted and never knew why. Labelling himself a bully at least was a reason he could understand for why his only parent would abandon him like yesterday's trash. His years at school taught him very little about the right way to treat others. According to the boy's friend Donald Duck, who had also attend boarding schools growing up, really famous ones too, he claimed that they had more in common with the hierarchy inside adult prisons than places that educated impressionable young children. Where bullying was entrenched, even culturally endorsed – seen by the establishment as making men out of boys. Where sexual molestation and abuse of young boys by older ones was as common as fireworks on the 4th of July.

When the boy left the detested boarding school and went to college, the boy found a Fraternity that finally taught him how to be part of a real family. He learnt all about hazing, teasing and pranking his family to show them how much he cared about them- how much he loved them. He learnt how to be loyal and to protect his family – his brothers - no matter what they did or the personal cost. But the very best thing was, that for the first time he had family that cared about what happened to him and would do anything for him. The boy drank alcohol at college, although not much because he was an athlete and needed to be clean and fit to take the field. But the feeling he got from finally being a part of a proper family was way better than alcohol. It was a feeling he would do anything to feel for the rest of his life, like normal people.

When it was time to leave college he knew that he needed to find a new family, one that he could stay with for much longer than four years. When an injury meant that he wouldn't be able to find his family on a sporting team like he'd planned, he turned to the police force, knowing that it could give him the family he longed to belong to and he could help others too. After failing to save a little girl from burning to death in a fire, the boy who couldn't be a professional athlete, really wanted to make amends. It was a while before he found a new family, and he missed his frat brothers so much he thought his heart would shatter. There were false starts but after six long years, he finally found what he hoped might be his forever family in DC. Unfortunately, his new family that he loved didn't love him- didn't even like him and thought they were better than him.

Even though they had all had grown up with pretty normal families and had proper childhoods they didn't seem to understand. When the boy hazed and teased his new family like he had his frat brothers, they also retaliated like his college family did and the boy felt like he belonged. But the boy was confused because it wasn't good naturedly getting even that he experienced at college. Instead of feeling loved, they made him feel stupid because he wasn't as important or smart as them. Since he'd been told as a child he was a failure and without value, that he would end up in the gutter, he accepted that they must right and never complained when they made him feel worthless and unwanted, like his dad had when he was little. They were his family so he forgave them because that's what you did for family. His brothers had taught him that much.

So, he tried his best to protect them and support them, because they were important – to him personally , to the team and the agency. The boy who'd become an agent, frequently put his life in mortal peril to save theirs, never receiving a word of thanks from them but he understood. It was his job to save them and he wasn't important like they were or smart so he wouldn't be missed if anything happened to him. When one of them pulled him back from plummeting to certain death or disability in a parking garage however, he profusely thanked his team mate because it was his job to save them, not the other way around. Even though his teammate hadn't endangered himself to save him, he had a fear of heights and was scared and the boy was grateful that someone would inconvenience themselves to save someone as inconsequential as himself.

He was so lucky to have found this team so the boy who had become a lonely sad agent lived unhappily ever after. But at least he wasn't alone ...even if he wasn't wanted, he could live with that.

NCIS DC:

Probationary Special Agent Ellie Bishop stepped off the elevator at 0815 on Monday morning, ready to start a new week after a blissful weekend off, spent with her beloved husband Jake. Granted her in-laws had been visiting but no one's life was perfect – hers came damned close though. Sitting down at her desk she said hello to Gibbs, thinking the boss looked like he hadn't slept all weekend. Had he even taken the week end off? She swore he never went home.

SFA Marc Mendez grinned at her as she greeted him. Tim grunted curtly, immersed in something on his computer but then again, he always seemed to be in a bad mood. She wasn't sure though, maybe that it was just his natural disposition – like Gibbs.

Looking more closely she could see that the computer meme that was driving him crazy for months was back again. It was a photo of a really hot looking bald guy with eyes and lips to die for. She might consider leaving Jake if he was available. Just kidding, Jake honey! But she didn't get the significance of the text which read: 'At least without hair his head's not too big, is it McBackstabber?

Hot guy's head looked just fine to her. Damned fine actually. Meanwhile, Tim seemed determined to get it off his computer but every time he thought it was gone, it would turn up again. Obviously someone at the office was playing a joke but no one was talking. Which was incredibly infuriating to the information analyst because she hated not being able to make sense of things and place them in neat little boxes.

Shrugging, knowing that no one would clue her in, she fired up her computer. Ellie checked her emails before opening up the NCIS intranet to check out official announcements and requests for data or sharing of cases between the various field offices, as well as not so official announcements and notifications from Human Resources. As her speciality was information gathering and analysis, she immediately noticed the notification that the pilot program of information sharing being trialled out of the New York Office had now been evaluated by a consultant and credited with statistically significant improvement in staff morale and increased solve rates. Sec. Nav. had authorised the roll out of the model across all the field teams, agency wide.

Now Director Vance was calling for volunteers from each office to spend a week in New York ,observing the program in situ and bring back their feedback and training to become peer coaches for their own individual field offices. Meanwhile HR would be working with training consultants to help implement the model gradually across the whole agency.

Ellie had been sharing this news with the rest of the team as she absorbed the content of the announcement. She looked at Gibbs and Mendez pleadingly.

"Can I volunteer to be the one to check it out it in New York – it is kind of my bailiwick," she observed hopefully.

Gibbs grunted, he didn't care about that sort of crap and wasn't really paying attention. He would ignore it like he ignored most directives from TPTB. Marc nodded, a secretive smile giving nothing away.

"Sure, knock yourself out. If no one else has volunteered yet."

Squealing in excitement Ellie sent off the request to be considered. "It sounds really interesting. They're calling it 'The Camp-fire Informational Model of Intelligence Sharing. This'll be right up you alley, Tim. It involves digital video recording of the data gathered to facilitate sharing with other teams and specialist consultants."

Ellie wondered why McGee who was taking a sip of coffee at the time, started choking, spitting his long black all over his computer keyboard.

ISHT

Marc Mendez swept into the bullpen, dropping information packs on everyone's desk, exchanging an amused glance over the partitions with his former SSA Balboa whose current senior field agent was performing a similar role for his old team.

"What the devil's this?" Gibbs growled.

"I thought we were on cold cases this week. I was going to create a new computer algorithm." McGee objected.

"Oh crap, Marc. If you'd told me about this yesterday, I wouldn't have applied my fake tan til the weekend," Bishop groused before her natural good humour reasserted itself. "Paint ball manoeuvres? Are we going to go up against each other? Call shotgun on Gibb." She chuckled smugly, thinking she'd kick Tim and Marc's butts.

"Nope, us against Rocky's team," Mendez grinned, noticing that McGee looked less than thrilled, knowing the Elf Lord preferred the virtual type of conquests and duels to getting sweaty and out of breath.

"Why are we running round playing goodies and baddies, we already do it for real?" He demanded.

"It's called a Team Building exercise, Special Agent McGee. Get used to it!" Director Vance responded, coming up behind Tim. "The New York office instituted regular team activities and there has been a dramatic decrease in stress leave, less accidents and higher productivity. HR recommended it be adopted agency wise. I concurred."

ISHT

Sec Nav Sarah Porter descended the stairs from the director's office and started making her way around the bullpen pausing at Special Agent Ellie Bishop's desk to hand her a individually addressed, ivory coloured invitation before stopping at Ned Dornaget's desk and giving him an ecru tinted personally addressed envelope. She proceeded to stop at various people's desks to distribute invitations to selected field agents. Agent Balboa watched her greeting everyone as she made her way round the room, working the crowd like the practised politician she indubitably was.

After Sec Nav's departure the team sans Gibbs, who was curious but too cool to show it, crowded around to see what she had been invited to. Passing it over, she explained as she perused the additional information.

"The new Cassidy-Todd Foundation is holding an inaugural Spa Weekend for female agents to encourage mentoring between experienced female agents and new ones. They will have information sessions specially geared toward issues that are unique to female agents, like managing reproductive issues and career trajectories, potential discrimination during pregnancy and child care, dealing with generalised discrimination in the workplace and financial planning."

Carlton Banes, a young, rather ambitious agent from financial crimes called out to Dornaget. "They starting a support group for spatially challenged agents, Dornie?" A cruel jibe referring to the fact that the young agent wasn't the most graceful of individuals.

Grinning, the agent shook his head. "Nuh Banes, Sec Nav invited some of the up and comers to contribute to a think tank looking at innovative crime investigation practises."

Balboa swallowed down a guffaw at the swallowed- sour- milk expression on Agent Banes face. Frankly, he found the little jerk far too smug and thoroughly enjoyed Ned's put down that had young Charlton worried about what he'd done or who he'd offended to miss out on an invite. Rocky already knew that it was an invite to a mentoring program for Gay, Lesbian and Transgender NCIS agents, primarily to support probie agents but also more established ones, too. Not that he blame Dornie for not sharing that info with the rest of the staff. He might be loud and proud about his sexuality but there were other agents who were more circumspect about their orientation and the young agent was respectful of their feelings. Balboa understood that those agents who were employed prior to the repealing of DADT had far different experiences of working in Law Enforcement to the younger ones.

As he leant back in his seat, Balboa had to hand it to Tony. These two mentoring programs plus the team building days – paintball, rock climbing, abseiling, ball room dancing and sailing had all been brilliant. Aside from the Team Building aspects, it had been great for stress reduction too. And the Campfires were already paying dividends – other agencies, especially smaller ones like the Coast Guard were looking at the feasibility of implementing campfires to share and analyse data ,as well. Just wait til Gibbs found out the latest innovation that he'd gotten approval to implement. Tony was being a very busy boy.

Jethro was going to go completely postal when Leon announced the Anger Management Program. Rocky was already nicknaming it the L.J. Gibbs Program and it featured daily meditation and decaf tea and coffee and yoga along with counselling and anger management information sessions. He figured Tony's experience as he battled lung cancer had shaped his recommendations on techniques to deal with anger- that and 12 years dealing with Jethro.

Leon had confided that even before he returned to field agent status, DiNozzo had completely turned morale around in the New York office after an incompetent assistant director cut a swathe of destruction through the office. He'd even lifted closure rates before he took over as SSA of the top ranked team. Already he was impacting, with three high profile cases closed out and a score of cold cases with fresh leads.

He'd improved relations with the NYPD and organised for young probies from the force and NCIS to serve as liaisons on a rostered exchange basis to learn tolerance, improve communication and working relationships. Balboa thought that this was such a deceptively simple concept but it had enormous potential to change attitudes. A hugely important outcome.

He was looking forward to catching up with him next weekend when he and his wife Jules were heading up to see a Broadway show. They were going to dinner before the show with him and his fiancée Emma and they were putting them up in their apartment spare room. It would be great to catch up – he really missed Tony a lot.

ISHT

Gibbs was trying to make his ever dwindling level of coffee last until the meeting ended. He decided that next time he would be bringing in a thermos so he didn't have to ration himself because he had a feeling his was going to need it before the meeting was over. He hated these stupid monthly talkfests with a passion but lately they have been even worse. Vance was a man on a mission, determined to bring all these damned stupid innovations in to make his existence a misery. There was nothing wrong with the way they had been doing things but typical bureaucrats – they were always tinkering with things that weren't broken, trying to justify their existence.

Vance had yet to announce the latest 'improvement' and the former Marine rolled his eyes. He ran his team the way that Mike Franks ran the MCRT – well he'd added a couple of extra rules – and there was nothing wrong with his team. All these efficiency geeks and PhDs – Mike used to call them pretenders - getting called doctor without spending time dissecting cadavers just more big-headed and dumb. And didn't all this kinda prove his theory was spot on.

When SSA Agent Grimes finished whatever the Hell he was droning on about – demanding hypo-allergenic hand wash in the bathroom or doors on the head that were voice command operated so you didn't have to re-contaminate your hand by touching the door handle when you were leaving. Basically, Jethro zone out when Grimes started talking. The guy could make watching paint drying seem exciting.

"Thanks Grimes, I'll take those observations to the appropriate department heads," the Director shut him down mid-sentence and everyone sighed in relief. "Before we finish up I have an announcement about how supplies and equipment in our crime scene trucks are configured. Following much positive feedback about the innovations in the New York field office, we've studied them exhaustively and determined that the changes are much more effective way to organise the space. Sec Nav Porter has ordered that the changes be implemented agency wide."

He distributed a hard copy of the New York model as he spoke, knowing that some of the SSA were petrified old dinosaurs and preferred having a piece of paper in their hands. As they looked at it, Leon continued. "I'll be sending an electronic version to all field staff later today. Any comments or questions?"

Gibbs studied the changes, his irritation quickly morphing to feeling smug. The New York office had just adopted the MCRT's crime scene truck's organisation of supplies and equipment. Score one for Mike Franks! Bet the old rascal was lookin on and pissing himself laughing.

Balboa grinned. "Yeah Director. My team already use this model. Works well, too. I think you'll find that since Special Agent DiNozzo came up with it in the mid noughties when he was in charge of the MCRT, all the SSA's convinced us to try it. All the DC teams adopted it years ago and never looked back."

"This is Mike Franks, method Balboa." Gibbs objected.

"No Gibbs, this was one of the changes that Tony brought in. Actually it is the only change that you didn't get rid of when you returned from Mexico and tossed him out of the job. Guess you don't remember – your memory was definitely still crap then. You called me Pacci a few times."

Vance stepped in before things got heated. "So all the DC field teams are already compliant with this change?" Getting nods form everyone he concluded the meeting. "Okay then, no action is required and I don't need to bother sending this plan out to the DC staff. Thank-you everyone for your attendance. Same time next month."

Gibbs followed him out of the conference room back to his office, having finally put two and two together about DiNozzo being in New York. Vance had expected the campfires to tip him off but he had ignored the whole program... in fact most of the innovations but that was nothing new.

"Why didn't ya tell me that DiNozzo was back working, Leon? And that he was in New York."

"I wasn't aware it was any of your business or that you cared, Gibbs."

"Of course I care. He's my SFA and friend."

Vance raised one eyebrow. "He was your SFA – he's Supervisory Special Agent of the MCRT in New York, now. As for being your friend – we have a different idea of what constitutes friendship, Jethro. So now you know – I take it you'll want time off so you can go and see him? Mend some bridges, apologise for your behaviour? Perhaps explain why you never contacted him, since you knew where he was being treated after stealing his private journal and reading it? Might want to apologise for reading his private thoughts and feelings. He's pretty upset."

"I'm too busy right now Leon. Got a cold case that's about to turn red hot." He stalled, before turning and leaving the director's office, speedily.

He by-passed the office and ended up in Autopsy where Jimmy and Ducky were engaged in a lively discussion about putrefaction. Although he really wanted to talk to Ducky privately, his mouth engaged before his brain. He was obviously spending too much time around Palmer – it was catching. Barging in he blurted out, "Duck, did you know that DiNozzo is at the New York field office?"

Watching as the elderly ME glanced impassively at him, he switched, spearing his laser-like glare at Palmer who was so much easier to crack. Watching Jimmy's Sergeant Shultz façade start to crumble in under 20 seconds, he scowled at Ducky. So you did know? Why didn't you say something? I had a right to know. Is he okay? Have you seen him?" He groused.

Ducky sighed, looking at Palmer sadly. "Mr Palmer, you really could do with some introductory lessons in subterfuge, dear boy. Yes we knew, Jethro. Anthony wanted nothing to do with his old life here in DC, including us. I suspect when he thought that he might only have weeks or months to live, he wanted to focus on being positive and living in the present and even friends from his time here were associated with things he wanted to ignore. No, we haven't seen him since he returned. He asked for time to establish himself and put down some roots in his new home, although he does email us occasionally. He's hinted that he was going to issue an invitation soon. And as far as I know, he is currently in remission but like any other cancer survivor, that is no guarantee that the cancer won't return."

Jimmy chimed in, "If he stays in remission for five years, it's generally considered to be a cure… although it can still come back."

"Mr Palmer is quite correct. I knew an orthodontist who beat breast cancer – she swore by collecting and drinking her own urine, emulating the great Mahatma Ghandi who was a great advocate of drinking his early morning urine to help mediate. Aurora also observed a strict macrobiotic diet, meditated daily and brewed a variety of herbal teas. She remained cancer free for 17 years but it did eventually return." He suddenly noticed Jimmy and Gibbs observing him incredulously.

"She drank her own urine?" Jimmy exclaimed.

"We were instructed in the Corps that since it is 95 percent water, as a survival strategy when there is no fresh water available that it could keep us alive but your saying she drank it willingly?" Gibbs demanded.

"Uropathy is an ancient form of medicine, practised by many cultures." Ducky replied. "Young Timothy is slathering himself in urine with his many moisturisers every day and millions of women use urine on their faces too. Even down here with our hand creams, we are applying urine to our hands to keep them soft and smooth."

Seeing Jimmy's horrified expression, he chuckled. "You are a doctor Mr Palmer – shame on you. Where do you think urea comes from which is a common ingredient in moisturisers? Or the enzyme urokinase that is used to break up clots in medical treatment – it also is derived from urine. I suppose you also don't know that early morning urine is very high in Melatonin ,a sleep hormone which is why it is used by meditation and yoga proponents. You must be more open minded, my boy." He scolded, jokingly.

Resolving to never use any moisturiser crap on his skin again, Gibbs refocused on the question that Ducky had so adeptly avoided. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought everyone knew that urea was urine Jethro or drinking urine had health benefits? I was sure that I shared with you that time when I was in Zimbabwe, although it was still known as Rhodesia back then, anyway those tribesman shared an aphrodisiac concoction with me of baboon urine and beer. How remiss of me to…"

"Duck, I meant about DiNozzo. I had a right to know."

Looking him in the eyes, he stopped prevaricating. "Because I didn't want you badgering the lad when he was trying to forge a fresh start or try to get him to come back to DC. And because you could have reached out to him while he was ill and you didn't. Why didn't you?"

And Gibbs had no answer to that and it pissed him off.

ISHT

Gibbs lead his team back to the bullpen, fuming. He'd been in a state ever since he found out about DiNozzo returning to work and that others knew too, including Balboa and Mendez and didn't tell him, which sent him into a rage. Then on the case today, that Detective McCadden was wanting to know about DiNozzo… why he left, where was he. He kept on yammering until Gibbs wanted to clean his clock.

McGee was pissy too over some remark the Metro cop made. Said now that he wasn't Tim's partner Tony wouldn't feel like he had to defend him anymore. That they could be buddies again. Told McGee he hoped he realised how lucky he was to have DiNozzo for a partner and a friend.

He and Mendez went on and on about DiNozzo til finally Gibbs ordered him off his crime scene, rather forcefully. He snapped at their Probie Bishop when she asked a probie question and later ripped her and his SFA a new one when she asked about what McCadden meant about defending McGee. He was short with Ducky and reduced the coffee barrister to tears before scaring the new security guard into pissing his pants and it wasn't even mid day.

After a meeting with the Director he was ready to explode and had to head down to the gym, dragging his team with him so he could let off steam. Seems McCadden was supposed to be working a joint case with them since it looked as if they were dealing with a serial killer and the Metro bigwigs took exception to him manhandling their detective off the scene.

Vance had delivered an official caution which didn't bother him really. It wouldn't be the first and probably not his last either. Then Leon Vanced dropped the bombshell. He was going to be the first participant in the new Anger Management Program that was being instituted agency wide. That was like waving a red rag at a bull.

"Over my dead body, Leon."

The director shook his head. "Not a suggestion, not a request. That was an order. You don't have a choice if you want to work at NCIS. If you refuse… there's the door!"

Gibbs stomped off before he made things worse. Vance had him over a barrel and he knew it. He'd already told him that his job was all he had and Jethro was hanging on to it by a thread.