When Monday came, Tony was even more worn out than at the start of the weekend. He was a little pasty looking, with shadows under his eyes. Everyone else seemed to look recharged and rested, even Chiu who was loitering by the window with his coffee, looked improved.
But were they afraid to close their eyes at night? He thought maybe by now Chiu had to be having nightmares about the case. Tony had gone home yesterday after his time with Miranda, catching up on laundry and mail that had accumulated from the week before. He tried to get to bed early. But soon enough, the nightmares started. And though he managed to get back to sleep, he ended up in the same state, wide awake, covered in sweat, terrorized by his subconscious. They seemed to be getting crazier. Maybe I'm going nuts, he thought speculatively.
He threw his bag down and sat heavily in his chair, rubbing his face while he booted up his computer.
They were all keenly aware of his lack of a greeting.
"Good morning, Tony!" McGee was the one to break the silence.
Tony mumbled without looking at him, "Good morning McChipper."
"You do not look so well," Ziva said, with a serious look, until an obvious thought crossed her mind. "You are worn out, yes? That girl is giving you a run for your money."
They both looked at her. McGee was grinning. "That was really a good one Ziva. You got that one right off the bat."
"I did not get it from any bat. Why would-"
"Too good to be true, McHopeful." Tony said tiredly, but smiling.
Ziva continued, "I do not understand."
"It's a saying that means getting it right the first time," McGee explained.
She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "I will never get all these ridiculous American idioms…and by the way, idiom is quite similar to the word idiotic."
"You know what they say, Ziva," Tony smiled, about to continue what he was saying but Gibbs walked into the bullpen and said it for him.
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again, David." Gibbs sat down at his desk, glancing up at them, Then did a double take on his SFA. "DiNozzo, what happened to you?" The younger man looked like hell, and was in jeans and a sweater today. Not a good sign.
Tony looked at Gibbs, and then down for a moment, uncertain what to say. But after a few moments passed, he saw Gibbs frown, and shake his head to himself, returning to the paperwork on his desk. Tony knew Gibbs had assumed it was because of Miranda, and now he felt a little upset that his mentor had pegged him to be so irresponsible.
Tony sighed and went back to his screen. There was an email from Vance calling for a meeting on the Snakebite Killer case, copied to Fornell, Chiu, and Dillon. "Great," he mumbled.
The meeting as it turned out, was a bitch out. Vance was getting on their case now, asking questions about what they had done to facilitate a solve. It was demoralizing, a slap in the face after they all tried to pull themselves together over the weekend. Gibbs and Fornell remained mostly silent, knowing this was just posturing from Vance, to look like he had his fingers on what was happening. But, after the meeting, the rest of the day was fairly sour.
Tony went home that night, bone tired. The lack of proper sleep was actually getting painful. He threw his bag down, collapsing, fully clothed onto his bed.
When he jumped up, horrific images fading from the latest nightmare, he saw the clock said 01:00 hours. "Shit," he moaned, rubbing his eyes. And then in a wondrous tone, "If I don't get some sleep, I'm really gonna go out of my mind."
He got up an took off his clothes, and poured a large glass of vodka for himself, slamming it down. There, he thought, that should help.
When they saw him again on Tuesday, looking even worse, with bloodshot eyes, they didn't say anything about it. Both Ziva and McGee looked from Tony to Gibbs, with pleading glances. He nodded to them slightly. Then Gibbs sent them all out to recheck some more case interviews. Except for Tony.
"DiNozzo, my office." He turned and headed for the elevator.
Tony rolled his eyes and got up from his desk.
"Now," Gibbs barked, and he jogged over into the open doors.
He stood, ready for the reprimand he thought was coming, as Gibbs hit the switch and the darklights came on, casting blue light on them.
He looked at the doors in front of him, as Gibbs got comfortable, leaning against the wall to his left.
"DiNozzo, wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" Gibbs' voice was gentle. It surprised him.
Tony was silent for a moment. He turned and looked at Gibbs. Concern was evident in his friend's ice blue eyes, and his brow was slightly furrowed.
He absently ran his hand through his hair, and looked down. "I dunno."
Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "You don't know? Really ? No idea, Tony?"
"I…" he knew he had to say something," I guess it's just the case…"
"Hmmm. And with all that… theraputic time you're spending with your new girl?" Gibbs continued to stare at him.
"Well, ah, she is kinda wearing me out, Boss…" he hoped he could avoid talking about the nightmares… at the expense of making himself seem like a teenager getting laid for the first time.
Gibbs glared at him for a moment. "You're full of shit. But if you don't wanna talk about it, okay. I… just want you to tell me, if this case becomes too much –"
"What? No way –" Tony immediately objected, feeling that Gibbs thought he was weak now. But Gibbs ignored his outburst.
"If this case becomes too much, you tap out, DiNozzo. That is an order. You've had a bad year. Sometimes, it piles up." And Gibbs flipped the switch, not saying anything else.
Tony was sullen the rest of the day, working at his desk on the mundane supply order paperwork Gibbs requested he do.
His phone rang.
"Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."
"Why hello there."
He smiled. "Why hello yourself."
"How's your day going lover?"
"You know, I am really not used to someone calling me that."
"Is it a bad thing?" there was a pout in her tone.
"I guess not when you say it. I've been called worse things."
She laughed. "So, I'm calling to see if I can kidnap you."
He snorted. "Oh yeah? And where would you be thinking of taking me?"
"My cabin, up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. For a long weekend. If we left Thursday night, we could have all Friday, too."
"It's like three hours to get up there, right?"
"Yep."
"Well," he sighed,"thing is, as much as I'd love to do the extra time and leave Thursday, this case…it's very important. So I don't feel right about asking my boss for the day when everyone is working so hard on this. I hope you can understand…"
"Well, I can live with that. You good to go up Friday night then? Coming back Sunday night?"
"Sure. Should I be prepared to bring anything specific?" He was thinking hiking boots, sweaters.
"Maybe, your handcuffs." She practically purred it into the phone.
He felt his pants getting uncomfortable at the thought. "Don't!" he hissed, laughing. "What if I have to go to the copier? Or chase a criminal?"
"Well," she chuckled, "I hope the copier is on a stable surface so you don't knock it over, and I'm sure the criminal would be frightened enough to just surrender. I know that thing scares me sometimes."
He laughed harder, until he noticed Gibbs looking at him from his desk. "Uh…I gotta go…"
"Okay sexy. Later."
"Bye."
He went back to his paperwork while Gibbs was still looking at him thoughtfully.
He knew there was more to Tony's pallor and general exhaustion, than this girl. He was worried, but also proud of Tony for letting her know how important his job was, and that he had people counting on him. And glad she seemed to breathe a little life into the younger man's dampened energy.
Ziva was back by the end of the day, at her desk, watching Tony pack up for the night. McGee had left early for a dentist appointment, and Gibbs was down talking to Abby.
"So…"she started, picking at her nails, "how is your…girlfriend?"
"Oh, she's good. Fine." He was zipping up his backpack. Then he suddenly remembered something, and opened a pocket, pulling out the marketing cards from Gallerie Du Cerisier. "Actually," he said, smiling, and placing them on her desk,"this should be interesting for you. Miranda is a very talented artist. I thought…it would be nice to show you her work. It's actually on display at this gallery. I met the owner. He's French." He was proud of her.
Ziva took a glance at them, and then looked at Tony. "I will take a look when I get a chance." She said with falsified interest.
"And how was your weekend with C.I. Ray? I never got to ask you."
"It was fine," she said, but offered no more than that. She would never admit to Tony that she and Ray had a huge fight…over how close she was to him.
"Good."
"Yes."
"Great."
Another moment brought no more to the conversation, so he said,"G'nite, Ziva." And left as she gave him a little wave.
She looked at the gallery cards in front of her, and muttered,"Bitch,"to herself as she tossed them into her in box.