Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, except the plot.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I'll try to do better now, since the end is getting nearer. Please let me know how you like it, and maybe speculate a little ;) Oh, and also not beta'd. Sorry.
Part 10
Ye Olde Dress Shoppe had seventeen employers, fourteen of which were working on the dresses and accessories. The other three were the manager, one consultant that was responsible for recommending colours, cuts, and fabrics, and one young man manning the cash register and the inventory. Just like the first time, those three were very helpful, even enthusiastic, when the team, supported by Balboa's people, started asking more questions.
"Oh my, this is like the real CSI deal," the obviously gay sales employee gushed. "And you've gotten even more handsome since I last saw you, Agent DiNozzo." He fanned himself and grinned. "Can you say r-i-p-p-e-d?"
Tony returned his flirtation with a tolerant smile. During the last couple of months he had been hit on by many men and the initial apprehension had quickly worn off and made way for his natural good cheer. "Thank you, Dale. Unfortunately not handsome enough for your dresses, eh?"
Ziva snorted in amusement and McGee almost choked. Dale's smile merely got bigger and Tony felt eerily reminded of Abby in one of her scheming moods.
"Oooh, you wouldn't think how beautiful some of those buff straight-pretenders can look, given the right material to work with. Wanna try?"
Before Tony could squeak out, "Pretender?!", Gibbs interjected with a dry, "Later perhaps. Tony, go help question the sewers, Balboa says they're being difficult."
"On it, boss."
"I almost had him there, Special Agent Spoilsport," Dale pouted.
Tony risked a look over his shoulder and saw Gibbs smiling in undisguised amusement. Oh, that meant revenge!
oOo
Later that night, Tony turned up at Gibbs's house. He brought instant falafel mix, a plus-sized container of hummus from his favourite Lebanese deli shop, pita bread, and fresh veggies, as well as a six-pack of beer.
As usual, the front door was unlocked and Gibbs down in the basement, working on whatever project had caught his fancy. Tony didn't know anything about it; he hadn't been here in weeks, but the soothing sounds of someone sanding wood made him regret that more than he would have thought. Sometimes the hours they worked were a real killer.
He didn't try to be quiet as he made use of Gibbs's kitchen. Pouring boiling water into the mix and stirring it, and then chopping up the veggies was strangely therapeutic after today's work. The knife's blade sliced easily through bell peppers, onions, cucumber, and carrots, making something new out of the destruction it caused.
Once he was done with the preparations, Tony got two beers from the fridge and went down the stairs into the dimly lighted basement. Gibbs barely looked up; he was busy sanding the long side of a corpus that apparently was meant to become a grandfather's clock in the future.
"Hey," Tony greeted and held the beer out. "Thanks for getting us out of rotation for the weekend. Ziva looked ready to keel over."
"You're not much better off," Gibbs replied and opened his bottle with a satisfying pop.
"And you, boss?"
Gibbs raised his eyes and took a long moment to just stare at Tony. "I'll sleep once we've got the bastard. Might be soon with your new lead."
"I hope so." Tony sipped his beer. "It feels wrong not to do something when we're so close."
"Balboa's team's chomping at the bit to help," Gibbs replied, shrugging slightly. "He'll take care of it and you can finally get that belt."
Tony shrugged, too. "Jin and Jun understand. I'll just wait until I can take a week off or something."
"The hell you will. When's the date?"
"Next Saturday. I should put in a few more hours at the dojo, though, just to make sure Jun won't kill me for ditching them so often. I'm not sure I can do that when the case is this hot."
"You can if I say so, and I just said so. Balboa's probies need more experience anyway."
Snorting, Tony replied: "I wouldn't say experience, exactly. Banner is just an idiot."
"But good with profiling, even if he's a little queen. What are you making? Is it worth it to come upstairs?"
"It's better than cold beans on toast," Tony chuckled. "Also, I hold the beer hostage. You got ten minutes, boss."
"I could help. I'm done with this part anyway."
"If you're sure?"
Gibbs merely smirked and pushed Tony up the stairs. While he washed his hands, Tony heated up the pan and filled it with oil. "You can form little balls and put them in here," he instructed. "When they're golden brown all over, take them out and put them on kitchen roll."
"I have kitchen roll?"
"You do now," Tony said easily. "I'll go set the table."
Fifteen minutes later they sat at the dining table and surveyed their work. Tony's mouth watered at the delicious display and, knowing that Gibbs was still a little apprehensive when it came to his altered food choices, he served himself first.
"You gotta try this," he said as he cut one of the small pita breads open. "Slather it with hummus and then stuff it with salad, veggies, and falafel. It's breakfast, lunch, and dinner for champions." He took his first bite and moaned happily. "God, I love this stuff."
Gibbs chuckled and opened his own pita bread in two bold slices. While Tony's was only mildly seasoned, he added jalapeno peppers and an ungodly amount of sambal oelek to his own. "Thanks for cooking."
"You're welcome."
They ate in silence for a while, both listening to the night news, where their case was being discussed.
"Say, can I stay here tonight?" Tony asked after another topic had come up.
Gibbs raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I can't think at my apartment ... too many movies on Netflix I want to see." He smiled sheepishly. "Somehow I can think better when I try to sleep on your couch."
"Whatever, DiNozzo. But if you fall asleep on the job ..." Gibbs left the sentence unfinished, just ate the last carrot stick and held Tony's gaze.
Since they were dead on their feet, they soon called it a night. Tony prepared the couch with a sheet and thin blanket and Gibbs brought him one of his pillows.
"Not washed," he warned, "but it has your pillow case."
Smirking, Tony took it and fluffed it up. "Ha, I knew that you'd eventually cave in the face of Egyptian awesomeness. Thanks for the sacrifice."
Gibbs snorted. "Hardly. You left two other sets here, after all."
"Ooh, kinky!"
That earned him a fond head slap and a gruff, "Goodnight."
Once Gibbs was gone, Tony settled onto the old, word couch and stared at the dark ceiling. It was very quiet in this neighbourhood. He could hear every car, every door, and even the few birds that were still about. Once a couple of cats fought down the road, hissing and yowling like mad.
But even that was somehow peaceful and his mind began to break out of the endless spin and just travel wherever it pleased. Their lead was in the labels, he was sure of that, so where was the connection?
Tony's stare became glassy, his breathing evened out. He reached that state of lucidity that allowed his mind to brainstorm possibilities and try out different angles, and connections without fear of ridicule or rejection. He sailed through ideas, followed plausible paths, and when he could follow no further because he was sure that he had reached the goal, his mind simply faded out and let Tony slip into a restful, deep sleep.
oOo
The next morning, Gibbs woke Tony with the tantalizing smell of fresh coffee and quiet sounds as he puttered about the kitchen. For a while, Tony watched him stir the contents in a pot and cutting up fruit. When the other man squeezed the juice from a handful of oranges, he made his presence known and snooped shamelessly through Gibbs's fridge and pantry.
"Just porridge?" he asked curiously.
"I'm out of eggs," Gibbs said and poured the hot porridge into two bowls. "But my neighbour brought strawberries from the field, if you want."
"Sounds great – for the first breakfast." Tony grinned. "I know a great little place, if you're feeling adventurous later."
Gibbs quirked an eyebrow. "Your treat, DiNozzo."
"My treat," Tony affirmed easily. "But I'll have to swing by the dojo before that. Make use of the free time."
Gibbs handed him his bowl and brought his own and a larger bowl of strawberries to the table. "Mind if I come with you?"
"No plans for today?" Tony asked as he added maple sirup and real vanilla bean to his porridge.
"I need to get out for a while," Gibbs admitted and copied Tony's preparations. "Maybe harass Fornell a little. He's stupid enough to consider remarrying Diane, he deserves it."
"Ouch." Tony sat down and took a deep sniff of Gibbs's coffee. "Aah. I can't drink the stuff, but it smells awesome. By the way, did McGee check out where the shop gets their fabrics before going home?"
"Balboa's team takes care of it."
"And what about the company that does their labels?"
"Nothing yet." Gibbs relaxed. "Why, did ya think of something?"
"I'm not sure. It might be someone from the label company, but it also might someone from a sewing group. Several of the employees at the Dress Shoppe regularly invite people, and some take work home. Someone could've stolen just one label, maybe blamed it on the cat or something."
"Cat?"
"Of the fourteen sewers, eight have at least one cat," Tony said dryly. "So, yeah. I think it's possible."
They ate their breakfast and chased it with a buttered, salted piece toast each, then showered and got dressed for the day. Before he hit the dojo, Tony got Gibbs and himself a green juice with extra hemp protein powder and chuckled about Gibbs's incredulous stare.
"It's good. I told Cheryl to put an extra piece of apple into yours, so bottoms up!"
They downed their juices, and then Tony went to brave his teachers. He was very aware of Gibbs's presence in the back of the dojo while he suffered through the warm-up and the lesson. He didn't know why exactly he felt so self-conscious, Gibbs had seen him fight a thousand times by now.
"What's up, DiNozzo? Got your head still at work?" Jin asked and attacked. Tony managed to deflect him just barely. "At least you weren't lazy."
"I wouldn't dare," Tony sniped back and grabbed Jin's kimono. They fought for dominance until Jin flipped him over his hip. Tony went down, but not without dragging the other man with him.
"Not bad at all," Jin smirked. "Are you up for your test next Saturday?"
They got back onto their feet and Tony nodded. "Yeah, my boss said I could take the time off."
"That him?"
Tony followed where Jin's thumb pointed and nodded. "Yeah. We got the weekend off, but one never knows for how long."
Apparently Jin was satisfied with that. He dragged Tony back to the others and paired him with a young, tattoed man who looked like he belonged to a streetfighter gang. A little later, Jun sidled up to them, corrected their stance every now and then and gave helpful tips.
The time was almost up, when Gibbs's phone rang. Tony watched him get up immediately and walk into the corner so as not to disturb them.
He managed to get through the cool down without looking again, but the back of his neck prickled. He knew that Gibbs was watching him, most likely mentally urging him on to finish up here. And really, after the brothers released their students, Gibbs motioned for him to hurry up. Jun looked rather disappointed as Tony declined his offer of getting lunch together, although Jin didn't look too surprised.
After a quick shower, they got into the car and drove with squealing tires to the address that Gibbs had gotten from dispatch.
"At least it's not another murder," Tony said into the tense silence.
Gibbs glanced at him. "McGee and Ziva will hate you for this, and there's no way that you won't get promoted after the case is closed. I'll make sure of that."
"Gibbs ..."
"We'll talk over that second breakfast, Tony."
And that was his last word on the matter.
End of part 10