A/N: I have decided to pretty much write any new stories as AU - therefore, some characters will probably seem OOC at times. Truth be told, I'm tired of the canon characters and the way they behave, so I'm going a different route for a while.
Gibbs had been surprised to hear the knock on his door at 1700 on a Friday night, and even more surprised to find Tobias Fornell standing on the other side of it with a bag of take-out in his hand. Gibbs's team had been off rotation for a few days following a long, well-fought case, of which Fornell had battled tooth and nail at the beginning of for territorial rights. He had lost, and in the end, it had been in everyone's best interest that the premier MCRT had been the ones to investigate it, and he was determined to take the high road and prove to his friend he didn't hold a grudge about it.
"Brought calzones and wings. Ya got some beer?" Fornell asked, holding up the large white bag.
Gibbs swung his arm out to gesture the man into the house, and they settled in the dining room for their feast.
"Where's DiNutso, figured he'd be here grilling a steak for a victory dinner."
"He and Abs and Kate went out to see some band they all like over in Georgetown. He'll probably stay over at Abby's place."
"I think it's nice he spends time here. Place looks better since he got here. Not so…Spartan."
"Yeah, s'pose so. Told 'im he could bring in a few things, didn't figure he was plannin' on redecorating the whole place."
"Don't call a few pieces of furniture and a new flat screen redecorating, but, whatever. Oh, by the way, I got a couch out in my truck. I was gonna ask you if you wanted, it's been in the basement gathering dust since Diane left, gonna take it to the thrift shop if you don't want it."
"Already got a couch, Tobias."
"This one's nicer, newer. Not so plaid."
"I like plaid."
"Yes. So say your sports coats. Take a look at it before you say no."
Gibbs took a huge bite of his calzone and got up from the table.
"You won't shut up and let me eat in peace till I do, so I'll take a look from the door," he grumbled around the calzone. Being as fond of food as he was, Fornell spoke fluent 'mouthful', and followed the man out of the dining room.
"I think you'll really like it once you see it, and we can unload it when we're done eating."
"Where the hell would I put the one I got?"
"We can take that one to the thrift shop instead!"
"No," Gibbs snapped, leading Fornell to believe the old sofa had some sort of sentimental value. "It stays here."
"You buy it when Shannon was-"
"No. It just stays here. I take your couch, you help me put it somewhere else."
"Like...where, exactly?" Fornell stood looking around the small living room already filled with furniture and an entertainment center.
"I dunno, Tobias, but it's not going out of here for a long time, so we'd better figure it out. And I'm not takin' the thing if it's broken down or stiff as a board. I know Diane's taste in furniture. If it was stylish, it didn't matter if your ass felt like it was sitting on a pile of concrete."
"It's not, Jethro, it's very comfortable. I debated keeping it myself, but it would remind me too much of the old days lookin' at it. Just take my word for it and take the thing."
"Fine," Gibbs agreed, shoveling in another mouthful of calzone, and taking a slug of beer. "We'll clear out a spot down cellar and put the plaid one down there."
"Hey, great idea, you won't need to keep sleeping in under the boat!"
"Nah, I'll still sleep under the boat. Just help me get it down there; it's where it needs to be."
"Whatever, Jethro, as long as we can get it down there without breaking our idiot necks in the process."
"We'll manage, we're not that useless yet. Once we get it started down the stairs, we just turn the end around and tip it down off the staircase. I'll grab it from the floor and ease it down, you come down the stairs and pull the other end off. It'll be simple."
. . . . .
Many swearwords and a few bruised shins later, Gibbs and Fornell had both couches situated where their own wanted them, and they settled in the living room for one quick beer to whet their thirsts, stripped down to their t-shirts and damp with sweat.
"Yeah, yer right, this is nice, Tobias. I think Tony'll like it, it's sure long enough for him."
"He complain about the other one?"
"Nope. Doesn't complain about much of anything here except not enough hot water for a shower. I keep tellin' him if rolled out of the sack a little earlier he'd get first dibs at it. Stays up too late watchin' his movies."
"Can't begrudge him that, Jethro. He could be spendin' that time at a bar across town."
"I don't begrudge him anything, Tobias, he puts in his twelve hours, sometimes more, he should be able to spend his free time however he wants."
"But you like that he spends most of it here," Fornell grinned, knowing how much Gibbs enjoyed having Tony's company even though he would never admit it out loud, and maybe even to himself.
"Don't have to worry about 'im so much that way. Kid's a shit magnet, nothin' saying it won't follow him home from work."
"Whatever you say, Jethro," Fornell smirked, setting down his empty beer bottle on a cork coaster. "Gonna head out before it gets dark. Thanks for the beer."
"Yeah, Tobias, thanks for dinner and the couch. Kate and Ducky will be thrilled, they'll think I finally found some taste somewhere."
"Not a chance, Jethro. See ya next week."
Gibbs tipped his beer towards the man and Fornell let himself out, chuckling to himself about his friend's newest rescue project. For all his growling and gruffness, LJ Gibbs had found room in his guarded heart for his Senior Field Agent, and had made it his second job to watch out for the young man, surprising anyone and everyone who knew Gibbs. But surprisingly enough, DiNozzo balked at the extra care and attention, never having much lavished on him at any time in his life, except perhaps the years before his mother's death. And while he never dared flat-out defy the older man, especially when he was under his roof, he still shied away from any show of fondness other than an occasional head slap or, in weaker moments, an affectionate tousle of his hair. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo would have been perfectly happy to lay his life on the line for his boss, but to accept the fact that he had real worth to the man outside of his hot shot job skills was beyond his comprehension.
Gibbs hoped that one day he could get through to Tony, though at the moment he wasn't really holding his breath. He gathered up the beer bottles and rinsed them out for recycle, took a quick shower and changed clothes, then headed back down to his basement to spend some quality time with some bourbon and boat building. Finding the stress of the week catching up with him not very much later, he took a few minutes to relax under the vessel's ribs.
He found himself awakened, many hourslater by someone banging around in his kitchen. He checked his watch, saw the sun creeping through the shrubs outside his window, and let his nose guide him up the basement stairs to the brewing coffee.
He found, as he had suspected, Tony in his kitchen, making eggs and frying some ham, efficiently as ever, but with a bit more emphasis than normal. Maybe he and Abby had had some sort of problem.
"You get in a fight with Abby?"
"Nope. Abby and I are fine. She's gone shopping somewhere with Kate."
"Then why all the extra noise?"
"No reason." Tony's answer was sincere, but his tone belied it, and Gibbs knew better than to believe him.
"Something Kate or I said? 'Cause I know the past week we got a little sideways with ya..."
"I'm used to that and I know neither one of you really mean anything by it. Doesn't mean I like it, though."
Hmmm. Maybe now they were getting somewhere.
"You never stop us, Tony, makes it too easy for us to get away with."
"So it's my fault you guys snark at me?"
"Tony," Gibbs prodded gently. "Tell me what's really got you so worked up."
Tony knew that anything Gibbs told him to do without a question mark attached to it was not a request, it was an order, and he obeyed whether he wanted to or not. He turned to his boss, spatula still in hand, eyes burning with hurt.
"How could you just replace it without…without at least telling me? I mean, I know it's your house, your furniture, you can do what you want with it, but I…it's-" He deflated with a loud sigh, thinking how he must be sounding to the man who had rescued him from that hellish situation in Baltimore and had never asked for single thing back other than to do the best job he could for him.
Gibbs smiled crookedly at him, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
"I knew you'd miss it."
"Then why did you get rid of it? It was my favorite piece of furniture, it was how I-"
Tony stopped mid-sentence, realizing he was revealing too much to the older man. Gibbs put a tentative hand on his shoulder to calm him and waited a moment.
"How you what, Tony?"
"How I knew I had a place." He dropped his chin to his chest, and his voice quieted. "A place to go to. It smelled like wood smoke and sawdust and pizza and Old Spice and Abby's and Kate's perfume - home. Where I grew up, the furniture, the house, smelled unused and empty and lonely. Top of the line, interior-decorated lonely."
"Turn off the stove, DiNozzo."
"Huh?" Tony shot up his head at this non sequitur.
"Turn off the stove, yer burnin' breakfast."
Tony turned with a startled shout, seeing smoke and smelling the awful stench of burnt eggs and blackened ham.
"Shit!" he cursed, snapping the flame off and taking the pan off the burner. He sighed again in defeat. It just wasn't turning out to be a good morning. "Shit," he repeated, more to himself than his lone audience.
"I didn't get rid of it, Anthony. It's down in the basement. Made Fornell help me get it down there for taking the other couch off his hands."
Tony turned to him, his eyes lit with hope now instead of loss.
"It's in your basement? As in still here?"
"Parked against the wall of the staircase. You can park your own ass there now while you're yakkin' to me while I'm working."
Gibbs saw the relief and slight hint of wetness in his second's eyes and kicked himself for not thinking to leave a note or somehow let Tony know where his beloved sofa was. As much as Tony talked about his movies and personal belongings, Gibbs knew they were just objects to him, something to fill the brain space to keep other stuff at bay. People—relationships—were what was important to the young man, even though he had been on the bad end of them a lot more often than most people his age.
But there was something about that couch that had linked DiNozzo to Gibbs, had helped form that first fragile bond of friendship beyond the job with them. It was the first place Tony headed for when he got to Gibbs's place, where he flopped when he was exhausted, where he recovered when he was ill or injured.
That couch, ugly even in Fornell's eyes, hideous in Kate's opinion, was Tony's refuge, and he had clocked up countless hours on it, watching movies, eating snacks, wrestling with Abby, bickering with Kate. It was home to him, something he'd never really had, and more importantly, family, something he definitely had spent his entire life lacking, and secretly, longing for.
"I would never get rid of it, Tony, I promise. It's here as long as you want it."
"Thanks, Boss. I know it sounds stupid, but...it's got a lot of-"
"Sentimental value?"
"Energy. Lots of good energy, from all the good times I've had sitting on it."
"I wouldn't call lying on it half-dead with the stomach flu good times, but it's yer call, Tony." Gibbs smiled at him, recalling a week of absolute misery for Tony while he, Abby, Kate and Ducky did their best to humor the kid and keep his mind off the puking and coughing and exploding head. As he further recalled, Tony had been a most unwilling patient, testing their own patience a bit with his inability to accept their willing help.
"Yeah, well...except those times." Tony turned to his burnt offering of breakfast and looked at his watch. "Hey, whataya say we go to that little diner that just opened down the street and try out their breakfast, my treat. Then we'll come back here and I'll test out the basement arrangement while you putter."
"I do not putter, DiNozzo!" Gibbs grumped as he turned to grab his jacket and keys. "I work, I build things, I clean up the messes you and Abby leave making your bird and butterfly houses!"
"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry about that last one, Boss. We had to get them delivered the day before the fundraiser and we were a little pinched for time."
"How much did you guys raise for it from them?"
"Uh, let's see…We took...fifteen bird feeders, five bird houses, and three butterfly houses and they sold them all, so…about five hundred bucks, I guess."
"Not bad, DiNozzo! You guys put some serious work into those things on what was just a bunch of scrap lumber and paint." Gibbs smiled warmly as he unlocked the sedan and they climbed in.
"Yeah, but they were nice, Boss, not just your run-of-the-mill garden variety, er, everyday birdhouses and feeders."
"Oh, don't I know it, DiNozzo. It's all I heard about for the next three days from Morrow's wife when she found out who had made them. She'd bought one of each, I think." He started the car, and turned to look at the shocked face of his SFA. "Along with several of her friends. Wants me to make sure you guys do the same thing for the next fund raiser auction, so you two better put your heads together for some serious projects."
"Wow! That's great! And now I have the couch down there to sleep on in between working on them! I'll call Abby when we get back."
"You do that, DiNozzo. I've got some books you can look through to find some more ideas that you should both be able to manage without cutting your fingers off."
Tony looked over at him, his eyes shining with the excitement that Gibbs loved to see in them. "Thanks, Boss. I'll bring the eats. Hey, do you think we can put one of those little fridges down there so we can stash our take out and-"
Gibbs rolled his eyes and harrumphed, but inwardly, he wasn't really against the idea as long as it kept the ones he'd nick-named the Terrible Two out of mischief. Apart they were usually okay, but sometimes when they got together, he was afraid he'd be getting a call from the local LEO's for some lame-brained, spur-of-the-moment idea they got to fix something or help someone. The adage that 'No good deed goes unpunished' seemed to be aimed at his SFA in particular, and he was beginning to realize the energy it took to keep the young man's recklessness in check before anything really serious happened to him.
He just wasn't willing to leave DiNozzo to his own devices like his biological father had so blithely done for so many years. The kid needed boundaries, whether DiNozzo knew it or agreed to it or not, and Gibbs was going to provide them, even if it meant keeping him occupied off the job with simple projects to help Gibbs or a non-profit organization. As long as Tony felt he was being helpful, useful, and was fed some decent meals, he was happy as a pig in shit. If it meant Gibbs making a refuge for him in his basement, so be it. Maybe moving the old couch into the basement was a better idea than first thought. He'd have to make sure to tell Fornell how happy he was with his new couch, even if it had belonged to their ex.
