A/N: Thank you for all of the comments and reviews … and a few ideas! I really appreciate the input. I know there is a bit of confusion over why everyone is so mad at Tony and think some of the characters (Gibbs and Ducky?) are a bit OOC, but I promise it will all be explained eventually.
Again, this is just MY take on how things happened and to hell with canon or a timeline.
No beta, so all silly mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: The usual – I don't own any recognizable characters or places. I am making no money from this and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Just a minute, geez!" Abby shouted as the pounding on her door became more persistent.
She gasped when she opened the door to find Gibbs standing there looking pensive and a little sad. Gibbs didn't wait for a formal invitation; Abby stepped aside so he could enter.
Before she could even say "hello", Gibbs announced, "I need to talk to you … about DiNozzo."
Abby put a finger over her lips and gently pushed Gibbs further into the living room, hopefully keeping him out of Tony's sight.
In a whispered voice she said, "Ummm … okay Gibbs, but there's something you should know. He's here. Tony's here. We just ate dinner."
Tony walked in, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. He stopped dead in his tracks and a chill immediately settled over the room. Abby looked from Gibbs to Tony, who looked from her to Gibbs, who just stood and stared at Tony. It was an odd parody of a Mexican standoff.
Abby let out a breathy "Oh boy", which broke the spell. Gibbs turned and looked at her with narrowed eyes and an expression of annoyance. Tony crossed his arms across his chest and stood his ground.
Smiling sweetly, Abby cleared her throat and asked, "Are you hungry, Gibbs? Tony cooked some of his famous pasta. It was really yummy and there's a lot left over. You want some?"
It didn't take much convincing. Gibbs had heard that Tony was a great cook, and he was famished.
Gibbs took a seat at the cleared table. Abby scampered into the kitchen and returned with a plate filled with pasta and a couple of slices of garlic bread. Knowing Gibbs wasn't a wine drinker, Tony chipped in and got Gibbs a cold bottle of beer from Abby's fridge.
Abby returned to the kitchen to finish washing dishes in order to avoid what promised to be an awkward conversation taking place in her dining room. If Tony and Gibbs were going to talk, it would be without an audience present.
"This is really good, DiNozzo. I didn't know you could cook."
Tony dropped into the chair opposite Gibbs.
"I'm Italian. We're kind of born knowing how. Why are you here, Gibbs?"
"I needed to talk to Abby about something."
"Yeah, I heard. You want to talk to her ... about me. So, why don't you skip the middleman and just talk to me instead? I'm all ears."
Gibbs grunted and turned attention back to eating. Tony took the hint and got up to leave.
"That's okay. I was just on my way out anyway. Meeting someone for drinks."
That got Gibbs' attention, Abby's too.
"Tony, you didn't tell me you had a date," Abby teased when she appeared from the kitchen a moment later.
Shrugging into his jacket, Tony looked from Abby to Gibbs and back again.
"It's not a date. Just … meeting a friend."
"Do you want to crash here again tonight? It's really no trouble," Abby offered.
Tony favored her with a weak smile.
"Thanks Abby, but we're meeting in the bar at my hotel. I call you tomorrow. I have a couple of appointments tomorrow, but maybe we can have dinner."
"Yeah, sure Tony. Call me. You got the number," Abby replied. She tried but failed to crack a smile.
Gibbs did his level best to hide his disappointment that Tony was leaving to meet someone. He could only wonder who the "friend" was, not that he had any right to know. He didn't like the idea of Tony meeting up with anyone in a hotel bar. Try as he might, he could not keep nagging feelings of jealousy at bay. It certainly brought the Ziva question back into play. Tony hadn't offered any details about the status of their supposed relationship. Were they a happy little family, or was it all crap? In fact, when he spoke of Ziva the previous night it was with pronounced detachment. He didn't mention her by name or defend her against Gibbs' accusations.
Gibbs pushed his empty plate away and wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
"You need a lift, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.
Tony responded by plastering on his fakest smile.
"Thanks, but I have my rental. Besides, I wouldn't want to impose. Thanks for everything, Abs." Tony kissed Abby's cheek on his way out the door. And with that, he was gone.
"Gibbs, what the hell?" Abby shouted seconds after the door slammed closed. "Tony was right here and you just let him leave? What is wrong with you?"
Gibbs was about to protest, but Abby was far from finished.
"You two need to talk and I mean really talk. He told me you were really mean to him. He wanted to see you, Gibbs. Of everyone, he went to you first. Doesn't that mean anything to you? He's dealing with … let's just say a lot of stuff".
She was about to say more, but stopped herself. Gibbs could tell she was struggling. Tony must have told her a big secret that she was keeping closely held. That was just Abby; for all the talking she could do, she would never knowingly betray a confidence.
"Dealing with what? There's something else, but you're not going to tell me are you?" Gibbs asked. His voice held no judgment or contempt.
Abby looked Gibbs in the eye and saw sadness there.
"It's not for me to say, Gibbs. Yeah, Tony shared something, something really important, but it's for him to tell you, not me," she replied softly.
Gibbs dropped down on the couch and sighed.
"So what do you want me to do? Tony's a grown man. He made his decision and walked out on me, on all of us. Am I just supposed to let that go?" Gibbs asked. His eyes flashed with fear.
Abby dropped down next to Gibbs on the couch and took his hand in hers.
"Gibbs," she began softly. "I'm going to tell you something that I probably shouldn't. I'm not breaking a confidence, but I've known you and Tony forever. I see things. I know things. And … I love you both so much. Tony is in hell right now trying to hide and trying to do the right thing at the same time. He's never said anything to me, not that he had to, but he's crazy about you Gibbs. You. Not all the bimbos he's paraded around for years, you. He will never come right out and admit it because he needs to protect himself like he's done his whole life. He's never had anyone but you, me and maybe some of his frat brothers really give a damn about him. Sure, he's friends with McGee and Ducky and Palmer, but we're different. You and me, we'll go to the mat for him any time he needs us. Problem is; he's too damn stubborn to come to us for help. Now, I don't know how you feel, what you feel, or even if you feel, but Tony deserves to know. You don't have to tell me, but if you care at all about Tony on any level you will come clean and tell him. He needs to know where he stands and who he can count on. Ball's in your court, Gibbs."
Gibbs didn't want to believe the truth he was hearing, but he was tired of fighting whatever feelings kept percolating to the surface. He knew he had to face them, and feelings scared the hell out of him. There was a reason he was seen as a functional mute on the subject. Feelings could be easily weaponized.
"He told you all of this, did he?" Gibbs asked.
"No. I told you I won't break a confidence. But all these years of listening and watching all of you, it's pretty damn clear to everyone that there is something between you and Tony. You can deny it all you want. I dare you to ask Ducky. He'll tell you the same thing," Abby replied, smiling sweetly.
"So, you've discussed this with Ducky? That's good to know. Anyone you felt like sharing with? McGee and Bishop, maybe? Or Torres?"
"Don't get mad, Gibbs. Like I said, I love you - and Tony. You've both been through so much in your lives. You're both damaged. No one could possibly understand the two of you better than, well, the two of you! You need each other, Gibbs. McGee and Bish are totally cool. They know, too. They won't say anything to you or Tony, but they've both asked me if it was possible. Torres doesn't count. Just know that the people who have been you and Tony's family for all these years are here to support you. Tony needs to come home. You need to decide if you're willing to step up and give him a reason to."
Gibbs searched Abby's eyes for several moments. Her brutal honesty and sincerity were at the fore and there was no denying it. Gibbs had questions, but Abby was obviously not the one to ask. If he wanted to know where Tony stood with Tali and Ziva, he'd have to find out from Tony.
He knew what he needed to do. He just needed to find the right time and place for the mother of all conversations. Gibbs kissed Abby on the cheek and stood to leave.
Abby walked Gibbs to the door and pulled him into a rib-crushing hub before she would allow him to leave.
"Gibbs, you know I love you. Please. Don't let him get away," she whispered in his ear.
The relaxed ambience of the dimly lit Adams House cocktail lounge made it a popular hangout for hotel guests. A lone pianist with a cliche tip jar played all the old standards. The bar was comfortable and discreet. It allowed for cozy conversation over high-quality cocktails. Once Tony's eyes adjusted to the low light, he scanned the room for a familiar face.
After a few moments, his gaze landed on a lone figure tossing back a shot of amber liquid at a table tucked away in a quiet corner. Tony approached with caution. Fornell assessed Tony before motioning for him to take a seat.
Tony pulled out the thick padded chair across from Fornell and signaled to the roving waiter.
"I'll have a club soda. Thank you," Tony said.
"Yes sir," the waiter replied.
"Club soda? You on the wagon or something, DiNozzo?" Fornell asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Good to see you too, Toby. Just thinking I better keep my wits about me. You want to tell me why you've summoned me here? And how did you know I was even in town?" Tony challenged.
Fornell smirked.
"I have my sources," he snarked.
"Uh huh. What do you want, Fornell? It's been a bitch of a day and I'm in no mood for games," Tony stated sharply.
Tony rubbed his temples. A headache was building and he wanted nothing more than to go up to his room, take a long, hot shower and tumble into bed to hopefully forget the last two days. He wanted to be fresh and sharp for his interview tomorrow. Being a FLETC instructor was far from his dream job, but he quit the one that had been. Even though he felt trapped by circumstances, leaving was a decision he would always regret.
Tony struggled with his feelings about moving back to D.C. Would he be happy? He wasn't lying when he told Abby that he missed everyone like crazy, but so much had changed. Everyone had changed and by all accounts had moved on.
He wasn't exactly thrilled with his current situation. Paris was a lovely city, but it wasn't home. Among all of the bustle and crowds of locals and tourists he never felt more alone. Home was where the people you loved and cared about were, but would just reconnecting with once close friends be enough? He wanted more and dreamed of more, but he feared his dreams were out of reach.
Senior tried, too hard at times, to form some kind of fatherly bond with him. Every attempt felt forced and fell flat. Tony could never truly trust Senior. The scars from his formative years ran deep. During childhood and teen years, Tony had gotten into trouble on purpose just to get a little attention from his father. Rare praise or punishment, Senior just pawned him off on the household staff to be dealt with; he couldn't be bothered. Tony was lucky that they were there for him growing up. They adored him, and he loved them in return. Punishment doled out by Marta the cook usually meant he only got one freshly-baked cookie before dinner instead of two.
Tony had no clue where Ziva fit into his life; he rarely saw her, and when he did she was distant to both him and Tali. One thing was for certain; there was no love between them and there never had been. He couldn't get past the notion that he had been played like a pawn in some scheme she was wrapped up in. Fragments of his last night in Tel Aviv formed pieces of a puzzle that just didn't fit. The picture was still blurred around the edges.
Ziva was a master of seduction. It was a skill ingrained in her during her years of intensive Mossad training. She was known to use sex as a weapon or as a tool to get what she needed. The art of seduction was nothing new to Tony. He wasn't exactly innocent, and had used his good looks and charm on many occasions to woo a would-be paramour, so he knew all the signs. Not to mention, he never would have slept with Ziva without wearing a condom or two.
He felt an overwhelming sense of duty to protect and raise Tali the best he could. She was an innocent victim in all of this as much as he was. Tali was an adorable, sweet little girl, but she gravitated toward Senior who played the role of doting grandfather to the hilt. Tony watched their bond form from a careful distance. He knew he would never feel a truly familial bond with Tali, but what was the harm in letting her feel loved and cherished by the man she knew as her "saba"? Tony was stunned that his dad was even capable of bestowing love and affection on anyone. He never experienced that; Tony was just a tool in the family tool box pulled out to keep up appearances in the society pages.
"You with me, DiNozzo? You seem a million miles away," Fornell said.
Tony snapped back to attention as the waiter placed a napkin and cut crystal rocks glass of club soda on the table in front of him. He nodded and muttered his thanks to the waiter.
"Yeah, I'm here but you still haven't told me what you want," Tony retorted.
Fornell pushed his empty shot glass aside and leaned over the table.
"I want you," he stated.
As Fornell slowly sat up and back in his seat, a befuddled Tony gaped at him.
"You want me? What the hell are you talking about, and how many drinks have you had?" Tony asked. He eyed the exit in case he needed to beat a hasty retreat.
Fornell rolled his eyes.
"Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean the F.B.I wants you. You're a pretty damn good investigator, when you're not the one being investigated. We could use you and I have a spot opening up on my team. Your buddy Sacks is leaving. He's getting married and moving out west. He'll be in the San Francisco field office. You interested?" Fornell asked.
Tony took a drink and cleared his throat. He shot a smirk across the table.
"Depends. Write me up a proposal - for the job - and I'll think about it. I'm interviewing at FLETC tomorrow then leaving for home on Friday. Get your offer to me by Thursday and I'll get back to you before I leave. That gives you two days," Tony replied.
"Home? Paris isn't home and you damn well know it," Fornell said. He also knew that Tony had another interview lined up with the US Marshals Service. He couldn't help but wonder why Tony would keep that nugget to himself, but he didn't want to call him on it, not yet anyway.
Tony sat up.
"I have one favor to ask. Well, it's more like I have a non-negotiable demand before I'll even consider it."
Fornell's eyebrows shot up. He held his empty glass up to order another drink. The waiter nodded.
"And that would be?"
Tony stared at Fornell, never breaking eye contact. They seemed to lock eyes forever, though it was only a moment.
"I need your lab to do a DNA test, and no one else can know about it. Just you, me, and the lab tech. It has to be totally anonymous. If anyone, and I mean ANY one at NCIS finds out, I will personally kick your ass into next week."
Fornell nodded.
"I think I can arrange that. This about the kid? Something you want to tell your old buddy Fornell?"
Tony shook his head.
"No way. I get the results, then maybe I'll clue you in. Deal?" Tony asked.
In lieu of a handshake, Fornell tossed back the shot of scotch placed in front of him then stood. He looked down at Tony, who sat stoic. 'He had to have learned that from years of working for Gibbs', he thought.
"Tomorrow then. I'll have a proposal sent over here to you by the end of business tomorrow. We can take care of the other thing before you leave."
"Fine. Later, Fornell," Tony said dismissively before getting up and heading for the exit.
Soaking in a hot bath after his meeting with Fornell, Tony weighed his options. The US Marshals Service offered an exciting array of duties. Aiding with disaster assistance, helping to locate missing children, transporting federal prisoners, or hunting down and apprehending fugitives each brought their own challenges, and like the FBI the US Marshals Service had offices across the country. While doing online research, Tony's first thought while reading about Fugitive Operations was the Tommy Lee Jones film, aptly titled "The Fugitive".
He would prefer the excitement of field duty over a teaching post any day, but he could settle for being a FLETC instructor. Lord knows he had a wealth of knowledge and know-how to share with newbie green agents-in-training. If the US Marshals didn't work out, he knew an FBI job working under Fornell was always an option, which would have the added benefit of driving Gibbs up the wall.
Tony climbed out of the cooling bathwater, dried off, and slipped into thin flannel jammies for bed. He lay under the covers in the quiet darkness and contemplated his future. What was in store for him? By the end of the week, would he know if Tali was his daughter? If she wasn't, then what? Who would take care of her and raise her out of Mossad's reach? Where was Ziva and how did she fit in? She really didn't if he were honest with himself. Tony couldn't think of the last time he even saw her. It almost seemed as though Ziva stashed Tali with him just so she would be safe while Ziva continued on as a phantom Mossad agent. She would make an unannounced appearance in Paris for a day or two and then disappear without a trace or any indication of her eventual return. Hard as he tried, and despite Senior's protestations in Ziva's defense, Tony couldn't shake the notion that he was being played by her … again. He needed answers, as heartbreaking as they may turn out to be.
The leisurely 45 minute drive to Cheltenham, Maryland was relaxing. Tony had chosen a scenic route for the 23 mile drive. After a restless night, he awoke with the sun and went for a short run to clear his head. After a shower and quick continental breakfast, he filled a travel mug with the hotel's gourmet coffee and hit the road. It was a beautiful day, traffic was light, and he was in no hurry to get to his 10:00 a.m. appointment.
Tony knew he had aced the interview at "Hello". His NCIS jacket and tales of his heroic acts over nearly a decade in federal law enforcement spoke for themselves. His jacket was full of commendations spelling out his great investigatory strengths and crime scene analysis. Tony had a gift for putting random bits of evidence together to effect a solid lead in a case. That he had worked under the legendary Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a bonus.
He hoped it would be a short interview so he would be able to avoid noon time Beltway traffic on his drive back to DC for his interview with the US Marshals Service at the Justice Department. Being a Deputy US Marshal fit his skill set perfectly. He was still in good enough shape to chase down bad guys or kick in the occasional door if called upon to do so. Another bonus was that his chance of crossing paths with Gibbs on the job was a lot less than if he worked for Fornell. He couldn't think of any time NCIS held any kind of a joint op with the US Marshals.
Tony stopped at a Subway for a quick lunch before making the trip back to DC. He decided to call Abby to tender a dinner invitation.
"Um, hey, Tony. How's it going?" Abby answered quietly from the landline in her lab. The lack of exuberant "Tony, Tony, Tony!" was an indicator that the team, at least Gibbs, was probably in the room.
"Hey Abs. Guessing you're not alone. Okay, I'll keep this short. How about Marcelli's for pizza tonight? Say 7:30? I can meet you there or pick you up," Tony replied.
"Sure, yeah. Marcelli's, 7:30. I'll meet you there," Abby stated before hanging up. She directed her response not to Tony, but to Gibbs.
Tony looked at his phone with a puzzled look. That was oddly uncharacteristic. He hated feeling like he had put Abby in the middle of his Gibbs drama, but he didn't know what else to do. He knew she loved them both and that she hated when those closest to her didn't get along. Deciding he couldn't do anything about it at the moment, Tony finished his sandwich and headed for the door. He took a deep breath when he got in the car then set a course in the onboard GPS for the quickest route to the Justice Department.
Abby schooled her features and turned to find Gibbs looking at her curiously. Bishop and McGee said nothing.
"If that was Tony, you can tell me," Gibbs said.
"Okay, fine. It was Tony. Now, back to those DNA results you asked for," Abby replied. She turned on her heel and called up the results on her computer.
"McGee, get upstairs and finish pulling those records together. Bishop, help him," Gibbs barked. The two young agents hurried for the door.
Alone in the lab with only the beeps and whirs of Major Mass Spec and the rest of the gang, Gibbs stepped up to Abby.
"Something you want to tell me, Abs?" Gibbs asked.
"No, not really. Look, yeah so that was Tony on the phone. We're meeting for dinner tonight. He and I are friends, Gibbs. You know what friends are, right?"
Gibbs could see that Abby was getting agitated. He placed his hands on her shoulders to stop her nervous bouncing.
"I know you and Tony are friends. I know you've always been close."
"And you want me to find out what's going on with him, right? Gibbs, I am not going to spy on my friend, my best friend, for you! I could never betray him like that. He's always been more like a brother to me. If you want to know what's going on with Tony, then I suggest you stop being an ass and talk to him yourself. I can probably come up with an excuse to reschedule, if you catch my meaning. It's your move, Gibbs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work for other teams to do," Abby stated.
She shouldered past Gibbs to go into her inner office. Gibbs stood gobsmacked as the glass door swished closed. Abby would never scold him like that unless it was out of genuine concern. He got the message.
"Aced it!" Tony sing-songed as he climbed behind the wheel of this car. He turned the key bringing the luxury sedan roaring to life. His return to Paris would be delayed by several days due to the need for background checks, a written exam, and a battery of field proficiency tests.
His interview with the someone whose name and title escaped him at the moment had gone better than he had anticipated. They also knew of his accolades as a top federal field agent with nearly two decades of experience. Any holes in Tony's CV were filled by a detailed recitation of some of his former team's more challenging cases. Again, it didn't hurt having a file of commendations from the Directors of NCIS and the FBI, two SecNavs, as well as the President of the United States.
It was 3:30 when he got back to the Adams House. Should he lounge around the pool and relax, or go to the hotel's gym and get in a strenuous workout to burn off some nervous energy. Maybe he would just go for a run to clear his mind. He had plenty of time before he had to get ready to meet Abby.
Tony took a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in his room and plopped down on the very comfortable sofa. He put his feet up on the coffee table and took a long, thirst quenching drink. He sat the half full bottle on the table just as his cell phone rang. From the loud goth music ringtone blaring from the tiny speaker, he knew right away that it was Abby.
"Hey Abby! What's up?" he asked.
"Tony! Yay, where are you? How did your interview go? Are we still on for tonight? Any chance we could meet at 7:00 instead or we can reschedule for tomorrow if you want? I may have a date later with this really cool guy from a local band. Met him last weekend. He's the drummer, and you know I have a thing for hot drummers! Would that be okay? Tony, answer me!" Abby rambled excitedly.
"I'll answer as soon as you're done asking questions," Tony replied with a chuckle. "Yeah, 7:00 would be fine. I just got back to my room. I'm beat. I can tell you all about my day and you can fill me in on this new guy in your life, deal?"
"Sounds great! Ooops, I gotta go. My computer just dinged, and you know what that means. Gibbs will be here in like two seconds. See you later, Tony Love! Bye."
Marcelli's Pizza was one of Tony's guilty pleasures. It was one of those authentic places where you got to watch them hand toss the dough for the crust. The ingredients were fresh, and they never skimped on the toppings or the gooiest of cheeses. Tony considered their pizza to be the eighth wonder of the world. It was that good.
Tony arrived at 6:45 and chose a quiet table in the corner. He ordered a draught of domestic beer and a basket of mozzarella sticks as an appetizer. He knew Abby loved them. He perused the menu just for something to do while he waited. Everyone working there who greeted him when he walked in knew exactly what he was going to order.
By 7:15 he started to worry. Abby was never late. In fact, he was surprised that he arrived before her. It was out of character. Tony thought he'd give her five more minutes before calling. He hoped it was nothing more than heavy traffic, and knew that Abby wouldn't call while she was driving. He munched on a mozzarella stick.
Tony was about to open his phone to call Abby when a man approached his table. He should have known.
Slumping back in his chair, Tony asked, "She's not coming, is she?"
The man shrugged and pulled out a chair. He sat, waived the waiter over, and ordered a double bourbon.
"She put you up to this? Come on, Gibbs. At least level with me. You owe me that much."
Gibbs cracked a half smile.
"Let's just say she didn't exactly keep your dinner date a secret. She thinks we need to talk. So do I," Gibbs confessed.
"Talk? You? Yeah, that's worked so well in the past. Look Gibbs, I've had a really long day and I'm in no mood for an interrogation," Tony protested.
When the waiter arrived with Gibbs' drink, Tony placed his usual pizza order - large sausage, pepperoni, with extra cheese. He had planned to order it 'to go', but he had a feeling Gibbs wasn't going to let him just get up and walk out.
Resigned to his fate, Tony sighed.
"You want anything else added to your half?" he asked Gibbs.
Gibbs shook his head.
"No, I'll just have what you're having."
Tony's eyes darted around the room to land on anything but Gibbs. He was not going to let himself be pulled into Gibbs' orbit. Gibbs just stared at him intently, making Tony a bit more than uncomfortable.
"Okay, I give up. What do you think we have to talk about, Gibbs? Or, do you just want to yell at me some more?"
Gibbs was not going to let Tony bait him into a fight. He took a drink of bourbon and reveled in the heat traveling all the way to his toes.
"I hear you've had some job offers," Gibbs stated.
Tony blinked.
"Offers, no. I did have a couple of interviews today though."
Gibbs shook his head.
"Really? I heard Fornell offered you Sacks' job, or was I misinformed? Fornell, that's who you had drinks with last night, right?"
Tony chuckled.
"Told you did he? I warned him. Now I'm gonna have to go over to the Hoover Building and kick his ass like I promised I would. Yes, he offered me a job. I haven't accepted it, yet, but I'm considering it."
"Heard you talked to FLETC and DOJ, too. Anything you care to share?" Gibbs asked.
Tony sat and gaped at Gibbs. How the hell did he know that? he thought. Abby didn't know about the DOJ interview and she wouldn't have ratted him out about FLETC.
"Look Tony, I have sources all over this town. I know everything that goes on with my people," Gibbs said.
Tony huffed.
"Yeah, but I'm not "your people," Tony replied with air quotes. "Not anymore."
The tension was broken a moment later when the waiter returned with the pizza, which he ceremoniously placed in the center of the table. Drink refills were ordered. Tony served the pizza and handed a plate to Gibbs. They both dug in hungrily for a few minutes before Tony spoke up.
"So what do you really want, Gibbs? You gonna offer me my old job back or something? Gonna fire all the people you had to hire to replace little 'ol me? Gonna kick McGee out of my chair?"
Gibbs shook his head.
"I just want to know what your plans are. You moving back here? You planning on bringing the whole family with you if you do? What about Ziva? What's going on there? Why did you walk out on me, us, the way you did?"
Gibbs hadn't meant to ask the last question out loud, but it was too late to take it back.
Tony looked Gibbs in the eye. He was stunned to hear Gibbs' rapid fire questions. It was wholly out of character, which meant their conversation could be on the verge of taking a major turn.
"Gibbs, what are you talking about? I didn't walk out on you; you pushed me away, remember? You quit caring. You quit trusting me. Why would I stay? I gave up years of my life for you, for the job, doing everything I could to please and impress you, but in the end it meant nothing. I got nothing in return. Just an occasional "that's good work, Tony" or a head slap. What would you have done in my place?"
Without missing a beat, Gibbs whispered a startling confession.
"I would have fought for you."