NOTES: This is a 10-chapter story, 34K words, rated adult, M/M. It is complete and I'll post a chapter every few days.
The story begins late in season 13 (2016). There is a major character death off-screen – Ziva, who really did die in the attack on the Israeli farmhouse. In this version, she and Tony never had a sexual relationship, so there is no Tali.
Keywords: Romance, case fic, hot sex, team, Sherlocks, Senior is sort of bad, Tony is promoted, Rhode Island, smart!Tony, nice!Gibbs, Torres is hot, DiNozzo/Torres, bottom!Tony, h/c, hurt/comfort, hospital scenes.
FOOLS RUSH IN
CHAPTER 1 – He Shut the Door Behind Him
Late November 2016
Fools rush in, where wise men never go,
But wise men never fall in love
So how are they to know?
When we met, I felt my life begin,
So open up your heart and let
This fool rush in.
Fools Rush In by Elvis Presley
As soon as Tony got inside, he shut the door behind him, dropped his luggage and released a big sigh. Home, finally, after four months of working at the NCIS office in Newport, Rhode Island. He stripped off his overcoat and made a beeline for the mini-bar. Once there, he fixed himself an old-fashioned, took a few sips and sighed again, this time with happiness. Well, with as much happiness as he could muster after spending a couple of hours on a cramped commercial flight, followed by a long ride in a cab driven by a disgruntled woman who complained non-stop about her cheating, soon-to-be ex-husband.
He could have asked McGee or one of his other friends for a ride from the airport, but he needed to regroup before facing anyone. If they acted true to form, they'd pester him with questions about his long absence, and he was too tired to face their mini-inquisition. While he was on assignment in Newport, Tony had emailed and texted them whenever he'd had a moment, but supervising a dozen agents had occupied most of his waking hours. Besides, the whole point of taking the temporary job was to give himself the physical and mental distance he had so desperately needed from his life in DC.
Being immersed in the New England Field Office routine, and being responsible for so many agents on the ground, had reminded Tony that he was a damned good agent, and that he should seriously consider their offer to stay on permanently. He had told the Deputy Assistant Director in Norfolk he would think it over and they agreed he could have until January to make a decision.
After Tony unpacked his suits and carefully hung them in his walk-in closet, he took a long, hot shower and dressed in comfortable clothes. The rest of his stuff he'd take care of later. He was hungry and Palmer had kindly left a couple of ready-to-heat-and-eat meals in the fridge, as well as some basic groceries. After he heated up a lasagne from a nearby Italian take-out restaurant he loved, Tony settled on the couch to eat and muse about his past, present and future.
«•» «•» «•» «•» «•»
MONTHS EARLIER
May 2016
Tony wasn't the kind of person to be overwhelmed by circumstances he couldn't change, but between Ziva's death, and then hunting down and killing Kort, and dealing with Gibbs' ongoing campaign to alienate him – not to mention Senior's constant presence once the old man had moved in with the widow across the hall – it got to the point where he felt as though he'd lost all control of his life. Tony became increasingly unhappy, and couldn't shake the feeling he had somehow taken a wrong turn down a very dark road.
«•» «•» «•»
McGee accompanied Tony to Israel for Ziva's funeral, and he was glad of his company. He'd expected Gibbs to attend, but he'd made it clear someone had to hold down the fort. The ceremony went as expected, with Mossad agents in dark suits and sunglasses acting as pallbearers. They carried the casket containing Ziva's remains to a family plot in a large cemetery just outside Tel Aviv, where she was laid to rest beside her father, mother and sister. Although Tony understood that Ari had been buried close to his family, neither he nor McGee saw any headstone with his name on it. Whoever had arranged the funeral had ignored Ziva's wishes. Tony knew she would have preferred to be buried in that favorite place of hers, the olive grove on the family farm in Zippori.
Graveside, emotions ran high under the searing Israeli sun. Ziva's family and friends shed copious tears and had small outbursts of anger against Ziva's killer, and when Director Elbaz gave a eulogy about bravery and loss, Tony felt some of that anger boiling to the surface as well. He was angry at the loss, the waste of life, and hypocrisy both here and at home. Nobody said what they meant; every softly spoken word out of Elbaz's mouth sounded like a lie. McGee was stoic throughout the ceremony, and his calm demeanor encouraged Tony to keep his own emotions in check.
There was something about the place, the people, that Tony found stifling, even hostile. It could have been the heat, or the jet lag, and the grief he struggled to hold in check, but it was more than that. Being in Israel dredged up old memories of being interrogated by Ziva's father, the head of Mossad. That was years ago, and Director David was dead and buried, but Tony could still taste the bitterness of his own fear.
Gibbs had told him to take one for the team, but Tony had faith that he could look to his boss to rescue him if things went south. Director Vance was another matter. He'd have let the Israelis make a scapegoat out of him, and toss him in a hole somewhere, never to be heard of again, if Tony hadn't gotten the better of Director David. It was funny how easy it had been to get under his skin, to trap him into admitting he'd been in control of Ari as well as Rivkin. Boy, that had felt good, witnessing the moment when the head of Mossad had realized he'd fallen for the ploy.
«•» «•» «•»
When they arrived back in DC, they were kept busy trying to locate Trent Kort. Executing Ziva's killer felt good, justified, but it was still revenge, and it bothered Tony more than he'd anticipated. It wasn't guilt. Maybe it was because it was the second time he'd hunted down and killed someone. He'd shot Budd down in a Shanghai alleyway, with absolutely no compunction. He hadn't questioned that, so why was killing Kort different, somehow?
There was an investigation into the death of the former CIA agent. Tony was cleared, as was everyone who had been involved that day. It had been a team effort involving NCIS, FBI and MI6 agents, and although Tony had been the first one to fire at Kort, the autopsy couldn't prove which of them had fired the fatal shot.
Reasonable use of force was the official conclusion, and both Dir. Vance and SECNAV signed off on it without hesitation. The FBI gave their agent, Tess Monroe, a pass, as she was under Gibbs' authority at the time. MI6 publicly censured their senior officer, Clayton Reeves, but privately approved of his part in tracking down Kort. The CIA, who had used Kort for their dirty work for years, seemed relieved to be rid of him.
Tony did the required sessions with an NCIS-appointed therapist and said all the right things in order to get re-instated. Once it was over, he found it difficult to get back into the swing of things at work, to act as if nothing had happened, as if he wasn't affected. He felt as though he was watching the world from a distance, as if he didn't belong.
To compound Tony's sense of being an outsider, Gibbs was still giving him the cold shoulder, and wouldn't tell him exactly what his problem was. That was par for the course, but after all the years they'd worked together, he'd have thought Gibbs would find it in himself to bend a little. Just a little. But apparently, that just wasn't going to happen, so on a sunny June morning, just a month after Ziva's death, Tony went to Director Vance.
«•» «•» «•»
Tony, who rarely held a grudge, had never forgiven Vance for not believing in him when they were in Israel, but at this time, Tony preferred to face him rather than Gibbs. "I'm putting in a request for a leave," he said to Vance. The director looked over Tony's paperwork, saw the length of time he'd applied for, and raised his eyebrows. Before the inevitable objection could be spoken, Tony added firmly, "It's not really a request. I've earned it." And, after a pause, "I need it."
Vance was skeptical. "One month though?"
"I have plans." Tony had accrued enough vacation and sick days, plus overtime, to take several months off, and he said so. What he didn't say was that he had no real plans, just some vague idea of driving around the country, maybe staying with some old friends. Maybe not. Being on his own for a change, simply getting away, sounded good.
Vance didn't put up much of a fight, although he did ask if Gibbs was aware of Tony's request.
"He will, as soon as you sign off on it," Tony replied. Vance signed, his assistant handed a hard copy to Tony and emailed a digital version to HR and Gibbs.
Ten minutes later, when Tony was at his desk immersed in paperwork, Gibbs came over and stood there frowning at him. "You planning on a trip around the world, DiNozzo?"
Tony responded with a smile. "I'm thinking more along the lines of there being a beach on Tahiti with my name on it." Gibbs didn't crack a smile so Tony got serious. He rose to his feet and met Gibbs head-on. "What's the problem? Are you afraid that once I get a taste of freedom, I won't come back?" Gibbs' ears turned pink, proving to Tony he had hit the nail on the head. After all the time they'd spent together, he usually knew what Gibbs was thinking. "You want to say something, now'd be a good time."
Gibbs glared at Tony, looking as though it would pain him to respond.
Tony snorted, and said, "Yeah, thought so," as he brushed past his boss.
«•» «•» «•»
Tony enjoyed driving, especially if he didn't have a schedule to adhere to, but after a few days of drifting here and there, it felt as though he was going nowhere fast. He changed his plans, such as they were, and drove up to New York to reconnect with the DiNozzo relatives. Five days with Uncle Vincenzo's large and noisy family was his limit, so, on the sixth day, he said goodbye and took the first flight out of LaGuardia to Jamaica. There, he spent the rest of his vacation at a small hotel at the far end of Montego Bay. What wasn't there to love about white sands, palm trees and turquoise waves? There was snorkeling, exploring the island, horseback riding on the beach, boating and plenty of nightlife to enjoy.
It took a week for Tony to really unwind. Sleeping late and doing things at his own pace, lying in the sun and then taking a leisurely swim helped him climb out of the dark hole he'd been teetering on the edge of for some time. It didn't hurt that it was easy to hook up with guys looking for nothing more than casual sex. All it took was a smile and some eye contact, and the next thing Tony knew, he was in bed with a blond surfer. And then a dark-haired bartender, a tourist or two, and the cute man who rented him a moped. Life was good, if you let yourself enjoy it, he concluded.
Once he fully accepted that he didn't have to answer to anyone, and was responsible for the direction of his own life, Tony felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
«•» «•» «•»
Tony returned from his extended vacation at the end of July, suntanned, relaxed and, surprisingly, looking forward to getting back to work. He had enjoyed his respite from the stress of the job, and was returning determined to put himself first from now on.
It seemed that no sooner than Tony had greeted his friends and colleagues, and handed out gifts to them (CDs of a local Reggae band, coffee beans straight from the farm, Jamaican art, a couple of bottles of local rum, mango hot sauce, and skincare products with coconut oil), than Vance called him up to his office.
After accepting a bottle of rum and thanking Tony for it, and welcoming him back, Vance indicated he should take a seat. He got right to the point. "Agent DiNozzo, I'd like you to consider a special assignment. It's a temporary position, in Rhode Island."
"Rhode Island? At the New England Field Office?" NEFO was located at the Naval Air Station in Newport; Tony had been there a couple of times during the course of investigations. Considering how much territory NEFO covered, overseeing seventeen subordinate offices, the number of personnel there was small. Vance seemed more uptight than usual, but he was smiling encouragingly. Tony wondered what he was up to; he must want this position filled pretty badly. He cautiously asked, "What does it entail?"
Vance cleared his throat and replied, "I need someone who knows the ropes and doesn't need his hand held, to supervise the major cases there."
"And you want me to do this?" It sounded like Vance was trying to get rid of him. Setting him up to fail, maybe? Or maybe it was Gibbs' idea, as he seemed hell-bent lately on getting him to leave NCIS. Or that's how Tony read it, as Gibbs never opened his mouth to explain.
"Yes, and I want you to leave immediately. Their lead investigator is on medical leave and his replacement isn't free until the end of November. NEFO currently has a supervisor taking care of things, but he's not equipped to handle the investigations as well as his own workload. SECNAV wants someone on the job right way." Vance cleared his throat. "Secretary Porter put your name forward."
Oh, so that's who wanted him for the job. Sarah Porter might have started out as a politician, but she made a pretty good Secretary of the Navy and had a good handle on what it took to run NCIS. Besides, Tony knew she liked him. She had once told Gibbs she thought Special Agent DiNozzo was underutilized, which had done his ego no end of good. If Porter had suggested him for the job, it was as good as done.
"But I just got back. What does Gibbs say? I'm not sure he's going to sign off on this," Tony said, expecting trouble on that front.
Vance stiffened a bit at the implication that Gibbs had the last word. "This is on my orders, Agent DiNozzo. They need the position in Newport filled as soon as possible."
Tony made a show of thinking it over, and finally shrugged. "I still have a lot of overtime on the books. I was going to take days off instead of pay." That was NCIS's preferred way, but it seemed like Tony could never get more than a couple of days off at a time, so his overtime kept piling up.
Vance said, "You can put in for the overtime pay. I'll let accounting know I'm signing off on it." After seeing Tony nod, the director seemed satisfied. "Then I can expect you to report directly to NEFO. You can stay in accommodations on-base."
Tony said firmly, "I'm not staying in barracks."
"Officer's quarters then."
"That still sounds an awful lot like communal housing."
"All right, we can get you your own apartment."
Tony nodded, holding back a smile. He was going to have to get all of this in writing, signed and sealed. "And a car, not from the general pool."
"That can be arranged," Vance said impatiently.
The idea of leading a team at NEFO sounded enticing. Their territory was huge though, covering all the Northeast and into Canada. Tony questioned this and was assured he would be overseeing cases only in the New England states.
"The four New England subordinate offices will report to you, and you will, in turn, review them and report to Assistant Director Chase in Newport. The rest of the territory, including Canada, is divided between other teams. You'll have two agents and support staff as needed," Vance assured him. "It will be a good experience for you, and it will look good on your record."
Tony leaned back in his chair. "If I take this job, I'd like something in return."
"A bonus will be paid, along with your overtime at the end of the year," Vance said quickly.
It was almost amusing that Vance thought all he cared about was money. Tony replied, "Yeah, that's fine, but that's not what I meant. I want something else, Director, something that I've been meaning to discuss with you…"
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