I should be asking for a commission from lasagne manufacturers everywhere.

Once again, huge thanks to all of my reviewers; hope you like this one too. It's a bit longer than usual…

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Chapter 11: Remembering

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Gibbs hurried down the stairs to his sawdusty sanctuary, opening the fresh bottle of bourbon he'd bought on his way home. He tugged at his black tie, pulling it off to hang on a nail in the wall before slumping onto the stool with a deep sigh.

Other than the team, only a dozen people had shown up to Tony's memorial. The Director, Paula Cassidy, Ms Dorset the neighbour, Fornell, five old police buddies and four frat brothers. Of his family there was no sign; but then Gibbs honestly didn't know what he'dve done if they'd shown up.

It wasn't that no one liked Tony; quite the opposite. But very few felt that they were close enough to him to attend. Fornell had only shown for Gibbs' sake; he knew that. The Director was there because he was Tony's CO. The cops and the frat brothers were genuinely grieved, but none had been in close contact with Tony in years. NCIS had consumed all his time and energy; he hadn't taken more than a long weekend since he started there. Ms Dorset and Paula both wept quietly, sharing tissues. But it was clear who the closest people to Tony had been.

Abby was crying inky tears into a black lace handkerchief throughout the short, strictly non-religious service, as Tony's will had specified. McGee kept his arm around her, swallowing convulsively throughout. Ducky was sitting on her other side, also keeping a comforting arm around her. His face spoke of age, and weariness, and the agony of having done this too many times. Kate sat quietly, tears trickling down her pale cheeks as she remembered the man who'd tormented and protected her by turns.

Gibbs himself knew he looked uncaring. He had been forced to lock down all emotion just to get through the day; his face was a careful blank. It fell to Ducky to speak on Tony's life.

"Anthony was a cheerful and vibrant young man," he began. "He had a great energy to him, in everything he did; and it is a tragedy that his life was cut so short. I remember when we first met in Baltimore…"

It was a well-known fact that Gibbs didn't speak at funerals. He knew he was the closest thing there to family Tony had, but he still couldn't do it.

To talk about Tony would crack the mask he'd donned for the occasion; expose his emotions to a whole room full of people; most of which he didn't know. Talking to a friend like Ducky was one thing; a roomful of strangers was another. Gibbs' grief was still too raw to speak about Tony with anything but terrible pain; it would be a long time before he could.

Gibbs felt a sick ache in his chest that was the loss of his best agent. How could he go back and look at that empty desk every day? Remember the man who used to fill it, with his dazzling smile and little boy charm he'd had to pretend to be immune to? How could he cope with the silence where Tony and Kate's bickering had been?

And now all that remained of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was a small wooden box of soft grey ash. Tony's will had requested that he be scattered into the Atlantic he'd lived by all his life. Tony had loved the ocean; and not just for the bikini clad girls. It was fitting; like him, the water was always in motion; and yet still reassuringly constant.

Gibbs still couldn't shake the sense of unreality he felt; he wouldn'tve been surprised if Tony had tripped lightly down the stairs with that big grin on his face bearing pizza and a six-pack.

He'd begun to hate his boat. He'd been here working on it while Tony burned; when he should have been by his side. The damn thing had never been more important than Tony.

Gibbs looked up in mounting hope at the creak of floorboards; but the footsteps were wrong. Not Tony's easy lope, but Fornell's rapid march.

"What d'you want, Tobias?" He said, as the FBI agent opened the basement door.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Your walk."

"You sound disappointed, Jethro; who were you expecting?"

Gibbs simply met his eyes for a long moment. "No one," he replied bleakly.

Fornell put the paper bag he carried down on the workbench. "Thought you might be hungry," he said.

"I'm not."

"Still, you should eat. Starving yourself's not going to help anyone; especially the Jack."

"What are you, my mother?"

"Not the last time I checked. Look, Gibbs, I've been there. I know what it's like to lose an agent."

"He wasn't just an agent, Tobias."

"I know that too; but you have to find a way past this. DiNozzo's dead, Gibbs; and he's not coming back."

"My head knows that; rest of me's not so sure."

"There any reason to suspect there was anything going on?"

"Nope. Just my gut telling me something's hinky."

"I have the greatest respect for your gut, Jethro; but you gotta admit, your judgement is hardly gonna be impartial on this one. And I know if I were you, I'd want someone to blame too."

Gibbs only grunted, looking down at the floor; and then changed the subject.

"How's the eye?" He asked, accepting the carton Fornell passed him. It was now a sickly yellow colour.

"Almost healed. 'S not all bad; helped out a lot when I had to go explain where I'd been to my boss."

"I get you in trouble?"

"Not after I explained the situation. My director's got four kids and six grandkids; he said he didn't blame you and he'd put a team onto DiNozzo Senior and see if he could find any irregularities in the business to pin on him. He gave the IRS a call too."

"Thank him for me."

"Sure thing." Gibbs poked aimlessly at his noodles with the chopsticks as Fornell began to eat.

"I didn't buy you that so you could give it acupuncture," he commented, watching him. "C'mon; eat."

"Did tell you I wasn't hungry."

"It was a tough day today; but I promise, every day from now on will get easier."

"Liar," said Gibbs, without heat. "I've lost men before, Tobias; I know how it works."

"Then you know you're gonna have to replace him eventually."

"No one can replace Tony. Do his job, sure; but not replace him." Fornell was worried by the deep sadness in his voice.

"You know if there's anything else you need, you only have to ask, right?"

"Matter of fact, there is something."

"Name it."

"Stop fussing around me like a God damn mother hen, would ya?"

"I just thought you might want some company."

"And I'm grateful; but I need some time alone."

"You sure that's a good idea? I know what a mess you are right now, Jethro; and the rest of your team are gonna need you around."

"I can't be there for them until I've got my head on straight. And to do that, I need to go away."

"You have somewhere in mind?"

"Yep."

"There any chance you're going to tell me where?"

"Nope."

"You never did get the whole communication thing, did you?"

"Three ex wives, Tobias," Gibbs reminded him.

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Thoughts, anyone?