Title: Providence
Summary: AU. Between McGee and Ziva's constant bashing and Gibbs' coldness, Tony finally reaches the point of no return and quits, leaving NCIS and DC behind him. On the road again, he stops by the town of Providence, Missouri, and makes a series of meetings which might change his life, whilst Gibbs moves heaven and earth to find him. But isn't it too late?
Categories: NCIS
Rating: K+
Characters: Tony DiNozzo, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Abby Sciuto, Tim McGee, Ziva David, Dr Donald Mallard, Jimmy Palmer, Leon Vance, Agent Balboa, Original characters (Tillie Hackerman, Harvey Jackson, Father Henry Richmond, Sheriff Elliot Green, Dottie Ferris, Christina Lake, Jake Petersen, Doctor Adam Beltram).
Pairing: Tony/OFC (in the late chapters), no other pairing.
Genres: Alternate universe/friendship/hurt and comfort.
Warnings: Middle swearing, OOC and major team bashing, especially Ziva and McGee.
Spoilers: Set at the beginning of season 6. Spoilers for Dead man talking, Hiatus, Boxed in, Bury your dead, Judgment Day, Agent afloat and various other episodes.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: Thanks to the wonderful badly_knitted who made it readable. You are fantastic.
Please forgive me for the late update. Let's just say that RL wasn't really kind with me these last months and I had to fight on all fronts, which left me completely exhausted. So, for those who haven't given up on me, here is a new chapter. Maybe not what was expected, but I hope you'll like it anyway. I rewrote it several times and this is the best I can do.
As always thank you to those who have reviewed my work or added it to their favorites list and story alerts. Even in my wildest dreams, I would never have hope to reach more than 620 followers.
To fred, jkl88, Lady Isabelle Black and Paula: Thank you for your support. I'm glad you like it.
To chinightowls: Thank you for your kind words. Tony will get some relief soon and I guess I'll have to wait a little longer. ;-).
To Guest: First of all, thank you for taking time to read and review the twelfth chapter of a fic whose premise was so "ridiculous". I'm flattered. For your information, I actually watched the early seasons of the show and several sparse episodes since the sixth season, even if, now, I prefer to stick with fanfiction. I agree that Tony is often depicted in the show as childish and too eager to draw attention to him, but he is not cruel or a bully. I decided to highlight the neglected kid who lost his mother at a young age, the dedicated agent and the selfless man who dove in a river or entered a burning building without a second thought, just to save someone else's life. You have every right not to agree with me, but please don't be harsh.
To guest (2): Thank you for taking my defense, but don't worry, it takes more than that to keep me down. 1 flame versus more than 400 positive reviews. I won't complain. ;)
To Hells Bells: Thank you for your support. I'm sorry I couldn't reply to you directly, but know that your reviews really helped me to move onwards. :D I hope you'll like this update too.
A special thanks to ThePeachyMonkey for all your lovely reviews and your support.
Chapter 13 – Harvey
Providence, Missouri - September 18th – Monday early morning
By the time Tony finally pulled over in front of the Silver Fox, the fog hadn't lifted in the least, giving the impression that the entire landscape had been swallowed under thick waves of cotton. As on the previous day, the parking lot was empty except for one car, though this time it wasn't Tillie's pickup parked in front of the main entrance, but a dark red Ford SUV.
Turning off the ignition, Tony checked his watch and winced. The drive had taken him almost twice as long as expected and he was now barely on time. Being late wasn't exactly the best way to make a good impression on his first day, so he quickly got out of the car and leaped up the stairs.
The door wasn't locked, but the happy tinkling of the doorbell was the only sound to greet him when he entered. The bar was empty and plunged into semi darkness, only a faint lightning coming from the kitchen.
Heading in that direction, Tony walked down a short corridor. He cautiously poked his head around the kitchen door and caught sight of a large black man in immaculate chef's whites, hunched over the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee by his side. The man was busy with peeling the huge pile of vegetables laying in front of him. He was so engrossed in his task that he didn't even lift his head at Tony's appearance, which allowed the former federal agent to study him more closely.
Although he could only make out the upper part of the man's face, Tony reckoned him to be about the same age as Gibbs or maybe a little older, but not much more. The silver threads streaking his nappy hair were glowing under the harsh neon light and framed a broad forehead creased by two deep wrinkles. The pitted skin of his high cheekbones was so taut that it seemed about to crack on the bones, just like the fabric of the white jacket straining across his large shoulders.
The stance of the older man conveyed a fascinating mixture of utter control and restrained force and as Tony lowered his gaze to the long dark hands wielding his sharp knife with unnerving dexterity, he found himself momentarily enthralled by the swift movement of the blade.
"You intend to stay there all the day?"
The gravelly voice startled him and as he looked up, he almost recoiled from the pair of dark sunken eyes boring into him.
Hurrying to pull himself together, he discreetly cleared his throat and schooled his features into a genial mask before taking a step forwards.
"Hi. My name is Tony Hamilton," he introduced himself, with a little wave of his hand. "I'm…"
"I know who you are," the man cut him off, throwing a potato in the basin next to him.
He quickly finished peeling another tuber, then swiftly planted the blade of his knife in the chopping board before turning around towards the sink to wash his hands.
Whilst drying them on a towel, the man glanced over his shoulder and wordlessly looked Tony up and down. His hostility was palpable and Tony swallowed back his growing discomfort.
He hadn't been naïve enough to expect a welcoming party but still. They had barely spent thirty seconds in the same room and his new colleague seemed to already hate him. That should certainly be a record, even for him.
He sighed inwardly and tried to put things into perspective. It might have nothing to do with him at all. Maybe the guy simply thought the job should have fallen to a local and was upset to see a complete stranger barging into his playground.
It didn't really matter anyway. Whatever the problem was, Tony wasn't willing to play the whipping boy anymore. He'd had his fill lately, thank you very much. He took a deep breath and was about to turn on his heels without further ado, when the other man sharply held out his hand towards him.
"Harvey Jackson."
Tony raised a dubious eyebrow at the unexpected change in attitude and after a brief moment of hesitation took the offered hand. Only to find his fingers instantly crushed in a vice-like grip. Determined not to let the other man have the upper hand, whether physically or metaphorically, he hid his wince behind a tight-lipped smile and struggled to return the hand shake as firmly as possible.
"Nice to meet you, Harvey," he muttered between his gritted teeth, a fake smile firmly plastered on his face.
Harvey finally let go of Tony's hand with a grunt and walked around the table, gulping the remnants of his coffee on the way.
"I'm the one in charge here when Tillie ain't around."
Nice way to point out who's the boss, thought Tony sourly.
With a stiff nod of the head, Harvey beckoned him over. "Come with me."
Fighting the urge to cradle his aching fingers against his chest, Tony watched him disappear into the corridor without a second glance, but didn't follow suit.
He weighed his options for a moment, the wheels in his head turning full speed.
Maybe the best thing would be to throw in the towel already and hit the road again. Tillie's right-hand man had seemingly taken an instant dislike to him and Tony wasn't so sure that he was willing to deal with the mood swings of another hawbuck, especially so soon after his disastrous experience with Gibbs.
It wasn't like he couldn't handle that kind of pressure. Working for years under Gibbs tended to toughen you up. No doubt about it. No, he was just tired of always having to adjust to others. For once, he just wished it could be the other way around. Just once.
He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling.
On the other hand, he didn't want to hurt Tillie's feelings. She had been kind enough to entrust a job to him. She had believed in him without even knowing a thing about him and the last thing Tony wanted was to disappoint her.
He heaved out a weary sigh.
He guessed he could have a try, at least until he found a way to repay her somehow. After all, he had worked in plenty of impersonal workplaces before. Places where nobody gave a damn about others and all they wanted was their paycheck at the end of the week. Surely, he could do that again if needed.
"Are you coming?" Harvey's gruff voice called impatiently from the corridor.
Tony shook his head with a sigh.
One thing for sure, he wouldn't let himself be walked over again. Whatever Harvey's intentions were, he would meet his match.
"Yep," mumbled Tony to himself.
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.
"Coming!" he shouted louder, before entering the dim lit corridor in Harvey's footsteps.
"What did Tillie tell you about the job?" Harvey asked Tony, once he had caught up with him.
Tony shrugged noncommittally.
"Not much. She didn't go into details. Just told me I would work night shifts from Monday to Friday and every other Saturday."
Harvey darted a sideways glance at him and let out a huff.
"Okay, I'm gonna give you a general rundown. You'll work nights from Monday to Friday, from 8 p.m. to midnight and every other Saturday, unless there is a special night that requires all hands on deck. Doesn't happen often, but you'd better be warned."
Tony nodded silently and Harvey carried on.
"Part of your job is also to take delivery of the supplies in the morning. Normally, that should be my job, but my back's giving me trouble and I ain't allowed to carry weight for a while. They usually deliver around 7 a.m., but I can make arrangements for them to do it around 8." He paused and looked questioningly at Tony. "If that might be a problem, let me know right now, because I don't want to hear you whining about it afterwards. Okay?"
Once again, Tony merely nodded. The guy didn't look like a big fan of ramblers, so he decided it was preferable to stick with short and direct answers.
"No problem. I'm used to short nights. It won't be a problem at all."
Harvey pursed his lips skeptically.
"If you say so."
He stopped in front of a door marked "Private" and ushered Tony into a small room lit by the harsh light of a double neon. It was sparsely furnished with a row of four faded green lockers, a small shower cubicle, a porcelain sink and a wooden bench, but Tony noticed that though the humble furniture looked rather worn out, everything was well kept and pristine.
"Here is your locker..." said Harvey, pointing at the last of the row on which was stuck a yellow label bearing Tony's first name.
"You can use it as you wish, as long as you don't put anything smelly, flammable or illegal in it."
Tony stifled a chuckle as he fleetingly wondered in which category the older man would have classified dirty socks, but kept his witty remark to himself.
Harvey sharply turned towards him and looked him straight in the eye, arms crossed.
"Rules in here are rather simple. You arrive on time. You do your job and you don't cause trouble. You don't drink nor flirt on the clock. If you want to hit on a girl or get wasted, you do it on your spare time and preferably as far as possible from this place. You think you can manage?"
"Yes," Tony acquiesced without hesitation. Outside a professional framework, women and alcohol were definitely two of the things which he intended to avoid as much as possible.
Harvey let out a non-committal grunt, looking rather unconvinced by Tony's assertion, but didn't elaborate.
Tony glanced around him and his eyes fell on the bright pink label stuck on the forth locker. He stepped forwards and squinted to decipher the name handwritten on it. When he turned his head to ask Harvey who Callie was, he found the older man glaring at him, clearly annoyed by Tony's display of curiosity.
"Callie is our waitress and she only works at mealtimes." His frown increased as he came face to face with Tony, purposely invading his personal space. "And I warn you already: she's not on the menu. If I ever see you bothering her, I'll kick your ass out of here so fast your head is gonna spin. Clear?"
Tony returned Harvey's glare and lifted his chin defiantly. The other man's undisguised hostility was starting to get on his nerves and he could feel his patience melt away.
"Crystal clear," he snapped.
"Yeah, it better be," Harvey growled, the threat in his words and tone evident.
They stood like that for a moment, eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, until Harvey finally broke the spell and backed off.
"Come on. There's still a lot I have to show you."
NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS
After that first brush, the following half-hour was spent in what one could call an uptight atmosphere, as they thoughtfully went through the well-oiled cogs of the house. Harvey was just finishing showing Tony how to work the pumps when the sound of a horn announced the arrival of the daily delivery.
Harvey glanced at his watch and smirked.
"Gary's on time for once."
As he went to open the back door, Tony steeled himself and wordlessly followed him, gloomily wondering how he was going to be eaten this time. If the older man's lukewarm reception was a sample of the famous "southern hospitality", he wasn't so sure he wanted to have another demonstration.
As they reached the back door, Gary Sparks, the delivery man, was skillfully parking his huge truck in reverse
In his mid-fifties, tall but as thin as a rake, Gary was the epitome of sternness. His lanky limbs looked too long compared to the rest of his body, reminding Tony of an old knotty tree and his craggy face was furrowed by an array of deep wrinkles which did nothing to soften it.
When Tony saw him hop out of the cab with a loud curse and wipe his scowling face with a handkerchief, he had every reason to worry, yet, it took him only a handful of seconds to realize that taking Gary at face value would be a huge mistake. As soon as his eyes fell on Tony, his face broke into a huge smile which lit up his features and instantly chased away all trace of harshness.
Harvey tersely introduced the two of them before going back to his stoves.
He'd no sooner left than Gary playfully nudged Tony in the ribs with a meaningful glance towards the back door.
"Don't worry too much about the grumpy man, kiddo. He barks more than he bites."
"No problem. I've had worse," shrugged Tony, not wanting to make a fuss.
Gary raised a dubious eyebrow and handed him a beer keg.
"Wow. That musta been something, because on my scale, Harv's already pretty freaky."
Tony couldn't help chuckling bitterly and shook his head, taking the keg from Gary's hands.
"You said it."
"So where do you come from, boy? Something tells me you ain't from round here."
"New York," Tony answered laconically.
Gary pulled a face.
"The Big Appel? Well, that's kind of a hike. And what brings you to our good old Missouri?"
Tony averted his eyes. Here came the part he had been dreading. The understandable curiosity and its attendant questions.
"Huh, fresh air?" he finally ventured with a wan smile.
Gary gave him a puzzled look and Tony couldn't help cringing inwardly.
It was a flimsy answer and the well put together story he had rehearsed during his journey to work would have certainly been more suitable. But even though he truly balked at bringing up the inglorious stream of failures which had led him there, setting the foundations of his new life on outright lies didn't exactly fit his idea of a fresh start. So, all in all, he reckoned lies by omission didn't look like too bad an option.
The two men stared at each other, Gary clearly expecting him to elaborate. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Tony was about to give up, to serve him with a fib but Gary saved him the trouble.
"In that case, man, you made the right choice, because fresh air is something we have plenty of round here," he said with a knowing nod, letting Tony know that he didn't intend to press the subject further.
Tony favored him with a grateful smile to which Gary answered with a lopsided one and they resumed their task, turning the conversation by common consent to the last match of the Tigers and other lighter topics.
NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS
Tony closed the door of the storeroom behind him and leant back against the wall with a heavy sigh. His limbs were shaking from exertion and he swore to himself that he would never again unload a truck without having a decent breakfast first.
If the amount of supplies he had just stored was any indication of the financial soundness of the Silver Fox, then there was definitely no risk that the place would run out of business any time soon.
He closed his eyes and arched his back to work out the kinks in his spine, letting out a contented sigh when his vertebrae clicked back together. God, he couldn't remember having moved so many crates and kegs in his life. Not even during his years in college, when he had been working in a trendy bar in Columbus to pay his tuition after he lost his scholarship. On the bright side, at this rate, he wouldn't need to go to the gym any time soon.
He cast a glance around him and snorted bitterly.
Here he was now, bartender in a godforsaken hole and hiding under a false identity like a fugitive, when less than seventy two hours ago, he was still a top-notch undercover agent working for a powerful federal agency in Washington. That was laughable.
Looking down at his watch, he frowned. The news of his resignation had undoubtedly spread by now. He scratched the back of his neck and considered finding a phone to call Ducky or Jimmy, if only to know the extent of the damage and tell them he was alright.
But it wasn't the kind of weakness he could afford anymore and he knew it too well. Rubbing salt in the wound would be no use to anyone. He had made his bed and now he must lie on it.
He hadn't many illusions about himself. He wasn't getting younger and this was certainly his last chance to wipe the slate clean and do something with his life.
Objectively, his current situation looked rather lowly and a little dull, but compared to what he had left behind, it was more than okay.
Of course, to say that things were strained with Harvey would be the understatement of the year, but for now the other bartender had been the one negative item in the equation. Tillie and Gary had been nothing but friendly, so in the scheme of things, Tony was pretty sure he could manage just fine, considering the two men didn't even have to work together on the same shift.
A delicious smell coming from the kitchen reached his nostrils and his empty stomach grumbled loudly in protest. He detached himself from the wall and headed to the bar.
There was no way he would leave this place without, at least, a decent cup of coffee, he decided. Even if he had to brew it himself.
Perching himself on a stool, he rested his elbows on the counter and roughly rubbed his face. He was about to call out for something to eat when a steaming mug of coffee appeared in front of him seemingly out of nowhere, along with a large plate, full to the brim with scrambled eggs, fried bacon, toast, and pancakes. Looking up, Tony found Harvey standing on the other side of the counter, his trademark scowl firmly in place.
"Problems," asked the older man gruffly.
Tony met his gaze and shook his head.
"Not that I know of." He handed him the delivery slip. "I double checked."
Harvey reached out and snatched the sheet of paper from Tony's hand with a grunt, his favorite means of expression as it seemed, before heading back to his kitchen without a word.
"You're welcome," muttered Tony under his breath, grabbing his cutlery. "That was a pleasure."
He was attacking his eggs whole-heartedly when he heard the sound of a truck pulling up in front of the bar. A few seconds later, the door opened wide, giving way to a bulky man who, after a curt nod towards Tony, headed straight to the other end of the counter.
Physically, the man was in every respect the exact opposite of Gary: as stocky and large as the delivery man was tall and slim. His face was round and flushed, adorned by a thick moustache hanging on each side of his mouth and scrubby brows half-hiding a pair of piercing brown eyes.
"Hey, Harv!" he shouted, slamming his huge bear paw on the counter. "Stop bumming around and move your butt, man. I'm dying of hunger."
Harvey nonchalantly strolled back to the bar, wiping his hands on his apron, clearly unimpressed.
"Knock it off, will ya, Stu? You're way too fat to die of hunger anytime soon."
The man pushed back the peak of his cap and gave him an outraged look.
"I'm not fat. I'm hefty."
Harvey merely shrugged.
"Keep telling yourself that."
With an exaggerated sigh, he crouched down and retrieved a paper bag from the fridge.
"Remind me," grumbled the man called Stu. "Why do I keep wasting my money in a place where the staff hasn't slightest respect for the customers?"
"Because we make the best roast chicken sandwich within 100 miles," Harvey deadpanned whilst adding a Styrofoam cup of fresh coffee to the paper bag. "That's why."
"It's certainly not for your good manners, that's for sure," muttered the other man, as he dug a couple of notes from his inner pocket.
Harvey's smug smirk morphed into a grin that Tony found even more disturbing than his usual scowl. It gave his features a rather wolfish look, and more importantly, it also confirmed that Harvey's grumpiness was knowingly directed towards him. Although, Tony couldn't figure out what he could have done to deserve it.
As Harvey held out the paper bag to Stu, the sleeve of his jacket rode up and Tony caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his forearm. It was slightly faded and barely visible on his dark skin, but Tony had no problem making out the characteristic form of a knife dripping with droplets. Not the sort you got from a traditional tattoo parlor, but rather the handcrafted kind you got whilst being behind bars or in the Forces. It was enough to convince Tony that he should keep a close eye on the man.
Stu adjusted his cap and grabbed his order.
"Okay, guys," he huffed. "Not that I don't enjoy your charming company, but duty calls. See you on my way back, Harv."
He gave the two men a nod and headed to the door.
"Where are you going this time?" Harvey wanted to know as the other man reached the door.
Stu turned around at the threshold and stroked his moustache.
"San Diego, then back by Albuquerque on Friday."
Harvey tilted his head and made a face.
"That's a hell of a trip. Be careful driving, huh?"
"Don't worry, Mum," quipped Stu with a wink. "I'm carrying eggs."
The door slowly closed behind him and Harvey shook his head with a soft chuckle which made Tony stare at him as if he had sprouted another head. No kidding, the guy could actually joke and have fun with someone. Well in fact, as long as said someone wasn't Tony of course, because as soon as Harvey turned his head back towards him the smile vanished, replaced by his usual glare.
Tony resignedly put down his flatware and reached back for his wallet to pay for his own meal, but Harvey threw up his hand to stop him.
"Meals are on the house," he informed him, pointing at a calendar hung above the counter.
"All you have to do is to put your name on the planner."
Tony mused for a second, but as fond as he was of Tillie's cooking, the mere prospect of eating in front of Harvey's frozen mug was enough to spoil his appetite, so after much thought, it seemed wiser to politely decline.
"Hum, okay," he said. "That's good to know. But I think I'm… going to skip lunch today, in fact and…" he trailed off and flashed a goofy smile, hoping not to upset the other man even more. "Have a look around. You know to… to gauge the feeling of the town… meet the neighbors. That kind of stuff…"
Harvey favored him with a blank look before uttering a laconic "Okay."
At the same time, the door opened on a group of women chatting happily.
"Hi, Harvey!" they waved cheerfully before heading to the dining room.
Harvey politely returned their greeting and went round the counter to take their orders while Tony picked up his plates and cutlery to put them into the dish washer, putting his name down for dinner on his way back.
As he returned to the dining room, Harvey was busy taking orders from two new customers who had arrived meanwhile.
"I think I'm gonna go," Tony said gingerly, shuffling his feet. "Unless you need me for something else?"
"Dinner is served at 18.30," the other man merely answered without even bothering to look at him. "Don't be late."
"I won't," Tony replied calmly, willfully ignoring Harvey's rude behavior. "See you later."
So saying, he turned on his heels and went out.
As he slipped behind the wheel of his Camaro, he spared one last glance towards the window of the bar and though he couldn't see anything, he would have sworn he could feel Harvey's gaze bearing down on him.
He didn't know what the guy's problem was, but two could play that game and he didn't intend to be outdone. So, with a hint of rebelliousness, he started the engine and stepped on the gas, leaving the parking lot of the Silver Fox with a screech of tires and a big spray of gravel and dust.
To be continued