Chapter 15: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow.

"Tony!"

'Damn', he swore under his breath and closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, as he lamented how unfair this was. He had waited patiently, lurked in the shadows at the edge of the floor, used all of his surveillance skills so that he could ensure that they would be gone whilst he did this. He wanted them to just return to an empty desk, it would be easier that way, easier for everyone.

He had wanted to avoid this. He'd waited until they'd gone out on a call, waited until the elevator doors had closed behind them, waited until he was sure they wouldn't be coming back, and then he'd moved swiftly in. Half filled the first box in less than a minute. It was so unfair that she was there, so unfair that she'd come back.

So unfair, he repeated the thought one last time before plastering the false smile on his face, the one that even she wouldn't be able to see through, as he opened and raised his eyes, turning in a single action to face her. He lifted his shoulders, making his voice sound confident and sure, forcing out the words. "Hi Kate," he glanced around looking to the exit he had seen her leave by, checking that she was alone. "Wasn't expecting to see you, Clay told me you'd gone out on a job." The lie came easily, Special Agent Clay worked in the next group of desks, was working there now, his head down, she wouldn't check, wouldn't know that he'd been waiting for her to go, avoiding her.

Except she did, he looked her in the eye and he knew that she did. He swallowed, forced himself to press on. "I'm er. . .I," he glanced down at the objects in his hands. "Just clearing my stuff, Gibbs wanted. . ." that's right put it all on to Gibbs, it was easier that way, easier than dealing with the truth. " . . .he said. . ." but he couldn't keep it up, couldn't meet the intensity of her gaze, the barely concealed emotion that sat just behind her eyes, leaking out across the void between them, a void of awkwardness that had never existed before.

Kate felt equally uncomfortable as she realised what he'd done. She knew from Ducky that he had left the morgue a couple of hours earlier. She had waited for him to appear, had watched the second hand drag itself across the surface of the clock face. She had worked out that he wasn't coming to talk to her, had assumed that he had gone home, that he couldn't face both White and clearing his things out on the same day. Saying goodbye was going to be hard on all of them.

Of course she should have figured out that he was just waiting for her, for them to leave, that he wouldn't want to face them. She cursed herself for not going to look for him. If she hadn't come back he would have just left, with nothing being said, and there were things that needed to be said.

"Tony," the repeat of his name was soft and warm, and a preamble to all of the things she wanted to say, the questions she wanted to ask, the emotions she needed to express.

His eyes had dropped back to the desk. He looked up again met her gaze, held it. "Kate, don't," the plea was simple, sincere; it almost broke her. How could he ask for so much in two simple words? He was asking her to let him go, to give up without a fight, to make this easier on all of them, because he couldn't do what she wanted him to do. He was asking her with every fibre of his being, asking her without using the words because he couldn't use the words.

Two simple words, too much emotion.

She held his gaze, stared for a moment. Nothing either of them could say would make a difference. He was past that point where it might have. He'd reached acceptance, she owed him enough to do that too. She broke the moment, turned to look at her desk. "I forgot my cell." She moved the couple of feet necessary to reach out and pick it up.

Under different circumstances Tony would already have picked it up. He would have taken great delight in checking through her messages, accessing her voicemail, gaining information to bait her with. She hated that.

She wished she could go back to it.

She looked back across at him. "Gibbs is really mad that I had to come back for it."

Tony nodded a small acknowledgement, trying to keep his eyes from boring into her. She was doing what he wanted, changing the subject, backing off from all of the pent up emotion that now drove a chasm between them. If it was what he wanted why did he have such a strong desire for her to scream at him not to go, not to do this? Why did he want to explain to her why he had to? He was never good at revealing his emotion, why did he have a strong desire to break down and cry, and tell her how unfair it was, how he didn't want to leave? To tell her that he knew he couldn't come back because he couldn't even touch his own damn gun? That he was going to have to leave that locked in his desk because even the thought of taking it out was enough to nearly empty the contents of his stomach into his trashcan? He knew why; if he did any of that then this goodbye would be even more impossible than it was now. "You'd better hurry then," he managed a small smile, "because pissing off Gibbs is a real bad way to start the afternoon."

It was her turn to nod, her turn to almost give in to the desire to let the emotion out. She took a step back. "Yeah, I'd better go." She hesitated, there had to be something else. "You'll keep in touch?" She paused, the words sounded so hollow. "We'll go out- maybe for a meal or something?"

He smiled again, a hollow empty smile, not that it was insincere, just that he was incapable of the emotion that should have accompanied it. "Yeah, that'd be good."

"Promise?" she asked, knowing that if it wasn't a promise it wouldn't happen.

"I promise," he agreed, knowing that it wouldn't happen.

"I'll. . .er. . " she continued to back away, not wanting the contact to end, even though she knew that she had to go. "I'd . .er. . .better get going then. . . Gibbs. ."

"Doesn't like to be kept waiting, I know Kate. Don't worry, I'll see you around."

She nodded one last time; finally it was too hard. She turned and moved from the room at a pace that was just a fraction away from running,

He watched her go. "I'll see you around," he repeated the words so softly that it was a strain to hear them himself. Then with a heavy sigh he went back to his packing.

She barely making the elevator before the tears filled her eyes. There was no way it ever could have been easy. She drew in a deep breath to compose herself, stifling the response, wiping the tears carefully away, disturbing her make-up as little as possible. She wouldn't let Gibbs and McGee see her like this. Tony was being strong- she could too. It wasn't as if she was never going to see him again, and that was when her heart constricted completely, as she realized it just might be.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs pulled up outside the apartment building and waited. He looked down at his hands, brushing his fingers across the rough calluses on the surface. They were more pronounced than usual. Several prolonged bouts of sanding his boat that had gone on well into the night were responsible for that. He looked up again and allowed a small smile as the reason for all those extra sessions made his way through the doors.

It had been two weeks since Tony had cleared out his desk, two weeks of no contact and business as usual, or so it seemed on the surface. No one acknowledged, although everyone recognized, the ripple effects of Tony's departure as it permeated through the team, affecting each of them in a different way. They still did their jobs, they had solved two cases, and had another almost resolved, pending some confirmations, but the atmosphere had changed, the dynamic shifted and not in a good way.

If Tony had kept Gibbs waiting, worse, if he'd had to go in and get him, then Gibbs would have been more worried, but Tony almost bounced across the sidewalk, pulling open the door, and climbing easily in.

"Hey. . ." and their was almost a moment of awkwardness as Tony nearly called Gibbs boss, but he caught himself. "Gibbs," he completed, looking down at his watch. "1.30 on the dot, good to know nothing changes."

"Rule number 2 Dinozzo. . ." Gibbs began

". . .always show up on time." Tony completed.

"It's actually. . 'always be punctual,' but close enough."

"Hey, I'm a little rusty," Tony protested half-heartedly as Gibbs pulled out into traffic. "It's been three weeks."

"I know, and thanks for coming in like this. I know that you don't have to, but helping us close out the paperwork on this case will save so much time." Gibbs acknowledged the reason he'd arranged to pick Tony up, or at least the excuse he'd given.

"That's OK bo. . .Gibbs." He barely caught himself this time. Damn, he had to stop doing that.

"The file's in the glove box if you want to get a heads up- refresh your memory." Gibbs nodded in that direction and then concentrated on the traffic as he changed lanes.

"Uh Thanks," Tony leaned forward, loosening the catch and pulling the door open. He picked up the file and pulled it out, letting out a slight gasp as the file pulled clear revealing a gun underneath.

Gibbs didn't miss the sound, turning to surreptitiously study Tony's reaction. Tony stared at the gun, momentarily frozen as he studied it.

"Sorry," Gibbs said, "I should have warned you that was in there. It's my back up piece," he stated.

"What?" it took Tony a moment to process what Gibbs had said, he pulled his gaze from the gun, shaking his head slightly, "No, it's OK, no problem." He gave a smile, "Nice piece," he said looking back at it before clicking the latch shut.

"Yes it is," Gibbs stated with a smile, the reaction was as good as he could have hoped. There was a chance. "It certainly is," he repeated.