Flashback
~Bullpen, the previous Fall (post-"Sandblast")
Gibbs paused at the soft voice coming from the other side of the door.
Tony.
Something was off with Tony that he couldn't put his finger on. It unnerved him that he couldn't quite remember if it was new, or had been going on before his injury, the amnesia, and months-long hiatus. The remaining gaps in his memories were fewer all the time, but remained a persistent source of frustration that he hid from Shepard and his team. He stopped to listen to Tony's side of the conversation, hoping for some insight.
Tony was using the 'nook', the area of unused space behind the stairs near his desk, for taking phone calls away from prying eyes and ears. The nook allowed him to see if anyone approached, either from the bullpen, or came through the entry to the little-used adjoining hallway where Gibbs now found himself. Tony used the spot a lot lately, and an unfamiliar extra cellphone he now carried as well, which set off an unsettled feeling in his gut every time he saw it. Almost every time, but not now.
Once he realized who Tony was talking to, the churning stopped and he stepped back far enough for his voice to fade, deciding to let Tony have his privacy rather than walk through and interrupt. He leaned against the wall and sipped his coffee, waiting for Tony to finish.
Within a couple minutes, Tony ended the call and returned to the bullpen, and Gibbs began to follow after a few seconds' delay. He entered the nook himself and paused again, listening just out of sight, as he heard McGee and Ziva immediately begin needling Tony.
"Is there any end to the parade of women calling you, Tony?" Ziva snarked.
"What can I say, Zee-Vah. I'm a popular guy," Tony replied, pronouncing her name in the way he knew irritated her, then took his seat. McGee couldn't help hopping on the bandwagon.
"Until they get to know you, that is."
"Yes, you are full on yourself," Ziva said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
"Of, Ziva. Full of myself," Tony corrected without looking at her, his concentration on pulling out his case notes and powering up his computer.
"You're also pretty full of yourself over what Gibbs said at the scene today, aren't you Tony?" McGee continued, sharing a smirk with Ziva. They'd already come to a consensus that Gibbs had been joking.
Tony smiled to himself, knowing exactly what McGee was referring to.
He'd rushed from Josh's house and arrived on the scene just as Gibbs was ordering evacuation of the civilians in the area.
Gibbs spoke his name in that way, with a tone and inflection that Tony recognized, but rarely heard since Gibbs' return from Mexico. The way that said knew exactly where Tony had been, why, and he expected a report.
"DiNozzo."
Of course he'd known. Swiss cheese memory aside, he was still Gibbs, after all.
"Princeton."
Gibbs gave him a small, satisfied nod. The one word exchanges confused the others, then the moment passed as they focused on the problem at hand. They all took precious seconds studying Abraham, trying to figure out where he was carrying the bomb and speculating about how he might detonate it.
Gibbs decided they needed a closer look and nominated himself to approach the suspect. Tony was not surprised to see the lead agent throw caution to the wind, but being singled out by Gibbs' next order was.
"DiNozzo, you keep your eyes and ears on me," Gibbs instructed, then moved down the sidewalk away from them, snatching a hat off a passer-by along the way.
Mann had been angry at Gibbs going off her Army CID script. "What the hell is he doing?" she demanded.
As he answered her, Tony felt something like relief at behavior from Gibbs that was familiar for a change.
"What he always does."
That part wasn't what had McGee's shorts in a twist.
Moments later they all listened as Gibbs sat on the bench next to Abraham, and started a conversation with the child-like homeless man.
"My son Tony plays that game."
It was a casual remark on the surface, at least to everyone else listening in to Gibbs talking with Abraham. To Tony, that comment along with their exchange when he'd arrived on the scene gave him hope that Gibbs was remembering more about before. Before the explosion that landed Gibbs in a hospital and temporarily robbed him of a significant block of memories of which Tony was a part. Before Gibbs seemed to view him as a waste of space one minute and a rival the next, rather than his competent, trusted SFA and friend.
Those few moments made him feel like a few more pieces of their fractured partnership were slotting back into place. Gibbs still didn't quite remember everything, but on this case Tony had seen outward signs he was finally getting there. Even more so than when he shaved off that horrific moustache a couple weeks ago.
However brief, the easy almost instinctive exchange seemed to signal a move back toward the trust, familiarity, and mutual affection that was once an integral part of their partnership. At least he hoped so. Time would tell because until now, Gibbs had been like Jekyll and Hyde since his return. The frequent barbs from Gibbs, and harder than usual head slaps bothered him far more than Ziva and McGee's smug arrogance and tag-teaming mockery.
Tony sighed, wishing McGee hadn't felt the need to take Gibbs' comment as some sort of personal slight. It could have been meant to convey something to him personally, then again, his doubts and insecurities told him it could just as easily been a throw away comment to get a dialogue going with a suspect. Either way, with the smug, superior attitude he'd been flaunting lately, Tony didn't feel bad at all about tweaking McGee and his insecurities right back.
"I keep telling you two, I'm his favorite," Tony answered teasingly. "Now you have proof," he said with a wink and wide grin.
"Even if that were true, since you got to the scene almost too late to be of much use, you're probably not so much now," McGee shot back. "Where were you, anyway?"
"Besides, everyone knows Abby is his favorite," Ziva taunted.
Tony decided not to answer. Ignoring them both, he started to transfer the handwritten notes into his case report.
Gibbs frowned at what he was hearing and wondered how much he was to blame for this new dynamic on his team, especially when they thought he was out of earshot. There'd been undercurrents of tension among them since his return from Mexico, with Tony in particular. Their attitudes toward Tony were probably more to do with him, than Tony, but Tony was an easier target. A target he himself had taken aim at, and as more of his memory returned, he was beginning to realize how completely in the wrong he'd been for being such an ass to his SFA.
His memory still had holes here and there, but he'd recalled enough to know he left his team in good hands. Why didn't McGee and Ziva think so? He'd heard enough.
"Don't you all have reports to write?" Gibbs demanded, as he came around the corner, enjoying McGee and Ziva's flinch at his unexpected appearance.
McGee recovered first. "Mine's in your basket, boss."
"You have my report as well, Gibbs," Ziva added.
"And yours, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.
"You'd be done too, Tony, if it weren't for all those phone calls," McGee threw in smugly.
Tony gave a little eye roll. "I'd be closer to done if you and Ziva would let me work in peace, McTattler."
McGee glared at being one-upped, and turned back to his monitor, hoping to stay under Gibbs' radar. It didn't work.
"I suggest you both stop distracting him and go home before I find something else for you to do," Gibbs began, giving gave Ziva and McGee an unamused look. "Something unpleasant," he added pointedly.
Tony kept working, sensing it wasn't him Gibbs was angry at for a change. He smothered a smile as McGee and Ziva exchanged uneasy looks, then hastily packed their bags and fairly ran to the elevator.
"Thanks Gibbs," Tony said hesitantly, letting a small grin out now that the others were gone. "You didn't have to do that for my benefit. I'm almost done, and I've gotten to where I can tune them out."
"Wanted to talk to you privately, anyway."
Tony stiffened and the grin evaporated. "What did I do now?"
Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Nothing, DiNozzo…that I know of."
Shadows flitted through Tony's green eyes and he looked wary for a moment. Then his expression lightened and he smiled again. "It wasn't a girl on the phone Gibbs, honest. You know me better than that." Or you used to, anyway, Tony thought to himself.
Gibbs, not Boss. Yep, there was some clearing the air to do. "I know that, DiNozzo," Gibbs reassured. "Josh's mom?"
Tony nodded, pleased and feeling oddly grateful Gibbs' wasn't inclined to assume the worst for once, unlike the others. "She wanted to thank me for talking Josh into picking Princeton over Marine boot camp."
"That was good work, Tony," Gibbs nodded, and saw a slight flush stain Tony's cheekbones.
Tony wasn't sure which was more startling; the praise or the switch to his first name. There hadn't been much of either since Gibbs came back from Mexico. Uncertain how to accept the rare 'atta boy', he shrugged it off. "I just helped him see what he already knew was the right choice; what his dad would have wanted." Tony paused, inclining his head and studying Gibbs. "So what brought that on?" he asked curiously, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"What; acknowledging how well you did on this case, and dealing with Josh?"
"Among other things. It's not really your style."
"Needed to be said," Gibbs shrugged, answering with typical economy of words. And you needed to hear it from me remained unsaid, but Tony seemed to understand, if the small knowing smile was any indication.
"So exactly how often are you tuning out McGee and Ziva?"
Tony frowned at the topic change. Was this really what Gibbs wanted to talk about? "You heard it all."
"Yep."
"Never in the field, Gibbs."
"Not what I meant."
"It's just teasing," Tony said dismissively. "Nothing I haven't done to them."
"If you say so," Gibbs countered doubtfully. "That been going on long?"
"Is this something we need to talk about, Gibbs?" Tony tensed as he asked the question; almost rigid in his chair.
Gibbs saw rough water ahead but charged on anyway. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise."
Tony snorted. Yeah, right. I'm supposed to believe the functional mute wants to talk, he thought. Maybe it would help him make some decisions one way or the other. "And if I do talk about it, are you going to go all ballistic on me?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Tony took a chance on Gibbs' being sincere in asking, and let a little of the frustration he'd been feeling for weeks come to the surface.
"You tell me, Gibbs. You spent the first few weeks back from your little tequila siesta joining in half the time instead of saying something to them yourself." Tony shrugged. "I never know what Gibbs I'm going to get from day to day. The one that berates or head slaps me and thinks I'm a useless screw up, or the one that remembers I'm the only one on your team you chose to work with. And why."
Gibbs softened his voice, treading more carefully now that he'd touched on something that had Tony turning combative.
"I remember, Tony," he said simply.
"Do you?" Tony challenged, fire in his eyes now. "Since you asked, starting when you ran off to Mexico that kind of thing has been par for the course from them. I even got it from Abby and Ducky. They all found fault with everything I did and made it clear from the outset that I wasn't the one they wanted to see in your chair. I think they'd prefer I wasn't around at all now that you're back." Tony replied, feeling lighter as he gave voice to some to the hurt and anger he'd kept hidden from the others.
Gibbs blinked, taken aback. Those were troubling revelations. Was Tony leaving…is that what the odd behavior was about? McGee and Ziva hadn't been what he wanted to talk about with Tony at all. It was the phones and distraction; the times he went off grid and no one knew where he was. Gibbs wanted Tony to calm the gut feeling telling him something wasn't right, but chance exposed an entirely different matter simmering beneath Tony's shiny, 'everything's fine' surface. Now both needed resolution. He'd been oblivious to how fractured his team had become, and it was all down to him that it had.
"What's happening in that head of yours…you getting that moving on feeling, DiNozzo?" He asked bluntly.
Tony thought about the Rota team lead carrot director Sheppard dangled, and that he'd turned down. All because a still recovering Gibbs came back with a moustache, still-missing memories, and a big ass chip on his shoulder. "If I do leave it'll be because I want to, not because of them. Or you."
Gibbs sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "How did we get here?" He muttered as he leaned back in his chair, feeling drained.
Tony laughed humorlessly. "I assume that wasn't a rhetorical question. They take their cues from you and it all started with the ringing endorsement of, you'll do."
"I didn't mean to leave the way I did. I just didn't have a choice."
Tony was shocked Gibbs would even imply he was partly at fault for the attitude problems. Maybe he was beginning to see the damage he'd done after all. Before Mexico, it was hard not to idolize the guy, to give him your loyalty and trust. The way he came back demonstrated their idol had feet of clay, and mountain sized control issues. He couldn't follow Gibbs blindly anymore and dropped another truth bomb.
"I know that. I don't blame you for the way you left, Gibbs," Tony said pointedly.
Gibbs nodded, knowing exactly what Tony meant. He felt every bit the jackass he must have looked like to Tony that day. "Just the way I came back, right?"
"I didn't deserve that from you," Tony said, his tone harsh now, and green eyes sparking with anger at recalling his things being carelessly dumped back on his desk without a word. "You may have finally remembered enough about me to know I'm not a screw up and stopped resenting me for doing the job you abandoned, but they haven't got the memo. You haven't been helping matters."
"I had to go. What memories I had where like jigsaw puzzle pieces dumped out of a box; a lot of them were…well, you know. Everyone was telling me who and what I was supposed to be, but nothing made sense. I don't know what else I could have done at the time," Gibbs admitted. "In spite of all that, instinct told me you were the one to lead the team when I wasn't fit to. I know I wasn't wrong. Do you remember the things I said at the scene today?"
Tony's brows furrowed. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Do you think I did that because I was just trying to connect and start a conversion with Abraham?"
"It crossed my mind," Tony answered, insecurity rising again. "I figured you just wanted me listening closely."
"I had no doubts at all you were already going to be doing that, and I know damn well you didn't trust Mann or anyone else there to cover my six," Gibbs said confidently. It had been a public affirmation to Tony, that he'd hoped was understood on more than one level. "It was a message to you Tony, but not the one you thought. It was because I remember most everything and maybe it was my way of making amends."
There was an appeal in Gibbs' eyes that tugged at him, and he certainly sounded sincere. After the way Gibbs had been treating him, he was going to have to work for it a little harder before they'd be on their way back to good. The suppressed anger began to ebb away, but he still had to hear the words. "Exactly what were you making amends for?"
Leave it to Tony to press for the answer he really wanted, Gibbs thought. And deserved.
"The way I left, the way I came back…everything since. Pick one, or all three."
"So when you said all that you meant it? And the sudden praise? Tony pressed.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you don't deserve it?"
There was an uncomfortable silence as Tony regarded him searchingly. Regret and guilt bubbled up in Gibbs as he wondered if the gestures and willingness to talk things out had been enough of an olive branch. Then Tony suddenly broke out in a wide grin.
"You're the boss and you seem to think so. Who am I to argue?" Tony quipped. Gibbs didn't have the good sense to apologize with his words like normal people, but between them, action had always spoken louder than words. That was why the manner of Gibbs's return was so hurtful in the first place. And why his 'way of making amends' was so meaningful now that Gibbs confirmed what it meant. They both understood the problem now and were trying to right the ship.
"Now, we'll just have to work on the others," Gibbs said, with a half smirk that said he was looking forward to it.
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Before we start torturing McGee and Ziva with the fact that we're sympatico again, there's just one more thing," Tony continued in a voice that held no trace of the humor from moments before.
Gibbs was taken aback by the suddenly hard tone and mercurial shift in demeanor. It seemed Tony wasn't quite done with him yet. He'd opened the door to this conversation, and resolved to let Tony have his say.
Taking in the compressed lips and now crossed arms, he gave Tony his full attention. "What would that be?" he asked.
"Don't do it again, Gibbs," Tony cautioned. The flicker in the older man's laser blue gaze told him Gibbs knew exactly what he meant. "If you leave again while I'm still here, you better be sure of yourself. You come back looking to kick me down the ladder again, things will be different. I won't be as welcoming. Or forgiving."
Suddenly Gibbs recalled something else about the young man he'd hand-picked to be his heir apparent. The deference Tony displayed so often in front of the others was largely a show. This was the Tony that called him on his BS, could stand tall in the face of his bluster and temper, and more than anyone, held him accountable for his missteps. Gibbs might lead, but Tony was the heart of the team and often its moral compass. He'd caught the 'while I'm still here' and realized that Tony staying around long enough to inherit his team was no longer the certainty he'd assumed it was. While they might have begun mending fences, permanent damage had been done. He could at least try to undo some of it.
"We have an understanding, Tony," he affirmed. "I know I owe you for making sure I had a team to come back to," Gibbs added. "You're beyond ready to move on, so don't let me hold you back if that's what you want. Just know I'm glad you're choosing to stay; I'm selfish like that," Gibbs said with a rueful grin. "I haven't always acted like it, but you are needed and wanted here."
Tony relaxed and gave him an awkward nod at more of the praise that had always been in such short supply. "Thank you," he replied simply.
As Tony turned his attention back to his work, the tension of the charged moment was fading, but Gibbs sensed it wasn't the right time to ask Tony about his own unusual behavior. He would bide his time for a while longer.
They worked on their respective reports in companionable silence and sometime much later'not a worry in th in the evening, Gibbs heard the whir of the printer starting up. He waited until Tony dropped the report in his basket and returned to his desk. Tony sat back down and started loading his backpack. Gibbs knew there might not be a better time to bring up the topic he'd hoped to broach, before being sidetracked on the festering conflicts he caused by coming back the way he did.
"Tony," he began.
Tony glanced over distractedly. "Yeah, Boss," he replied before going back to what he was doing.
"Going back to the topic of one more thing…you'd tell me if something else were wrong, wouldn't you?"
Tony froze in the middle of stuffing things in his backpack. He looked wary and uncertain, as he had when he thought Gibbs was going to ream him for being on the phone when he should have been working on his report. Then the 'not a worry in the world' mask dropped again.
"Sure. Why do you ask?" Tony answered. He was smiling as if he weren't bothered by the question at all, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Something has been eating at you; you're distracted and I think it's about more than those two," Gibbs answered, inclining his head towards the others' desks. "You ready to tell me about the disappearing acts and secretive phone calls? The hospital and dentist visits you seem to have far too many of?"
Tony met his eyes steadily. "Gibbs, I told you about my appointments. I'm sure if you check your inbox for a change you'll find my leave paperwork."
"Hmm. Ziva thinks you're pretending to be sick or sneaking off to see a girl. Maybe both."
"Well, she would think that. She's never thought that highly of me and probably thinks even less now. She and McGee both are far too willing to believe the worst of me these days. What about you?"
Tony was back on the defensive; his habit of distract and deflect on full display. "I already know you're not sick. The truth, Tony. Not obfuscations. I also know that nobody with teeth as perfect as yours needs to go to the dentist this much."
Oh yeah, he was full of obfuscations, Tony thought. But why use a big word when a small one would do. Lies. He was lying to practically everyone he knew. He desperately wanted to tell Gibbs and was desperately afraid of what would happen if he did. They'd just come to an understanding, an important shift back toward a sense of normalcy and he didn't want to see a setback. He had to keep Gibbs' attention off what he was doing for now, so he let the inner smart ass answer for him.
"That's a big, fancy word Gibbs."
"And that's a deflection," Gibbs fired right back.
He briefly considered feigning ignorance, though the truth wanted to spill out in the face of Gibbs' obvious suspicion.
"Gibbs," Tony began guiltily, then paused, unable to find the right words.
"I don't think you're sneaking out to see a girl," Gibbs said. "You wouldn't do that when you should be working." Then it occurred to him.
Unless the girl was a case.
"You working a case behind my back, Tony?"
Tony bristled with renewed anger and the confirmation came out before he could stop it. "You left. You weren't exactly around to ask, you know," he shot back, resentment coloring his tone again.
It was Gibbs turn to look guilty. Tony's slip was both an admission and an accusation. "Then tell me now," he urged calmly.
Gibbs watched Tony carefully as the silence stretched and some internal struggle took place. Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair. It was one of his few tells, Gibbs recalled, and it told him that Tony was stressed or agitated about something. Maybe both…but why?
"Gibbs," he began finally, "I can't….I've said too much already."
Gibbs could see he wanted to, and he knew if he forced the issue eventually Tony would. And that might do more harm than good. The snippet of truth was all he needed from Tony for now. There was someone else who could answer the question, and if this secrecy went on for much longer he'd get the truth from her.
"You'll tell me when you can."
Tony nodded in affirmation, sensing the danger had passed and Gibbs was going let it go. "I will."
Gibbs realized Tony had never answered his first question. "And you'd tell me if something was wrong; if you needed back up?" Gibbs pressed as Tony hefted his pack onto his shoulder and looked ready to bolt.
"Yes, Boss." Another lie, Tony thought. Jenny had made it all but impossible to rely on his team to watch his six while he ran her little off the books Frog hunt. As a result, his own gut yet to stop screaming at him that her op was a really bad idea, but it was one that she refused to let him walk away from now.
"Alright," Gibbs relented. "Before you go, so there's no doubt, I meant every word I said today. Whatever is going on that you can't tell me about yet doesn't change any of that."
"Thanks Gibbs." Tony walked quickly to the elevator before the guilt made him give in to the desire to tell Gibbs everything about his undercover assignment. He needed to escape this uncharacteristically talky, nice Gibbs who'd briefly dropped his bastard persona to clear the air. Like he'd always told McGee, he couldn't stand it when Gibbs was too nice.
He sighed in relief as the doors closed and he could no longer see Gibbs scrutinizing him over the half wall. Not only had he withheld knowledge of the assignment Jenny had cornered him into, he'd lied to Gibbs.
The combination of kindness and perception made him feel conflicted and off balance. Tony had been longing for the 'old Gibbs' and appreciated the effort he finally made to clear the air, but he'd gotten far more than he bargained for. He was conditioned from an early age not to trust such a drastic change in demeanor.
There was no 'old Gibbs' now, any more than there was an 'old Tony'. That months-ago explosion on the Bakir Kamir changed everything. Time would tell if he would come to fully trust Gibbs to understand, and make sure Jenny didn't torpedo his career or ship him off to the back of beyond for revealing her off the record investigation to the others. The investigation he was crazy to have taken on in the first place. One thing hadn't changed; he snorted to himself as he jabbed the down button. Neither one of them were right in the head.
End Flashback