Posted 20th February 2020

Spoilers for Season 9 episode Rekindled but, as always, this plays a lot with canon and timelines …

"Good morning, Sir! And it's a beautiful one, isn't it?" said the young barista cheerfully. He paused for a moment or two to allow a response but, when none come, continued happily enough, "And what can I get for you this morning?"

"Coffee."

"Of course! And it will be a pleasure! Cappuccino?" He leaned forward and said confidentially, "That's my specialty but, of course, I can make any of the drinks! Just tell me how you like them. Wet, dry …"

"Dry?"

"Of course, that won't be a problem at all! One dry cappuccino coming up!"

"Wait!" came the gruff reply, "How can a coffee be dry? It's got water in it, hasn't it?"

The barista laughed, "Of course, Sir. Well, a wet cappuccino has more frothed milk and a dry cappuccino has more steamed milk which makes it …"

"Stop! I don't want a dry cappuccino …"

"Oh, OK! One wet cappuccino coming up!" said the barista with undiminished enthusiasm, "Would that be …"

"I don't want a cappuccino. I just want coffee."

"Just coffee?"

"Yes. Long and strong."

"Of course, Sir! One long and strong coffee coming up! What milk would you like? We have non-fat, skim, 1%, 2%, whole milk or we have a range of non-dairy …"

"Black."

"Oh, oh, I don't think we have black milk," the barista looked a little stricken at the thought of letting the customer down and then he correctly interpreted the stoic glare he was receiving, "Oh, I see! You mean you don't want milk!" In response to the grim nod, he continued, "And what blend would you like, Sir? We have single origin Columbian, Kenyan, Vietnamese, Brazilian … or we have mild, medium, strong or dark blends!

"Dark?" said the customer, "I'll go for that."

"And what size would you like?"

"I said – long."

"We have …"

"The biggest you've got."

"OK! One venti coming up!"

"Make it two."

"Of course! And how would your friend like their coffee?"

"Friend? They're both for me. And put an extra shot in them."

"Of course, Mr Gibbs!"

"How'd you know my name?" asked Mr Gibbs.

"You're wearing a name badge … I read it!"

"Huh," Gibbs leaned forward and peered at the barista's own name badge, "So, Tony, I'm not Mr Gibbs."

"You're not? Then why are you wearing his badge?"

"I'm Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs," corrected Gibbs.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Don't apologise," snapped Gibbs.

"Sir?"

"And don't call me Sir. I work for a living."

"But …"

"And stop using so many exclamation points" ordered Gibbs who was now on a roll.

Tony stared back, obviously wondering what he was allowed to say. After a second or two of silence, he said (in a carefully neutral tone) "I'm guessing you don't want any pastries?"

Gibbs couldn't help but admire the kid's staying power, "No, I don't want any pastries!" He then caught sight of some cheese Danish and changed his mind, "I'll have one of those."

Tony nodded and hurried away to get Gibbs' order. Gibbs watched him work, allowing himself to be soothed by the delicious smells of brewing coffee and the sight of his own coffee being efficiently made.

"Keep the change," he ordered when Tony came back to the counter with coffee and Danish.

"Thank you, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs," said Tony in another carefully low-key tone, "There's sugar if you want it … we've got regular, all natural raw sugar or sweetener – we've got …" he trailed off as he realised that his customer had left.

"He's a Marine," said Mario the manager, "He'll drink it black and strong. You'll learn."

"Wasn't exactly cheerful, was he?" said Tony, "Is that a Marine thing too?"

"Could be," shrugged Mario, "Hey, you've got a customer. Serve her and then go. You've got a class, haven't you?"

Tony grinned. Mario seemed to know his schedule at OSU better than he did himself and made sure that his part-time work at the coffee shop didn't make him miss any classes or practice.

"I'll have a triple half-caff, low-fat, no foam latte with a caramel drizzle," said his next customer.

Tony nodded – at last a customer worthy of his talents! He allowed himself an exclamation point!

XXXXXX

Mario wasn't sure how it happened, but Tony soon found out that Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs – Leroy Jethro Gibbs – was on secondment to the Ohio State University Naval Reserve Officers Training Corps as Assistant Marine Officer Instructor. Tony made sure to anticipate when Gibbs would walk through the door and to have his order waiting for him – he also made sure to speak without exclamation points.

"Gunnery Sergeant," he said politely, a few days later as he handed over the two coffees and the Danish.

"Just Gunny," said Gibbs.

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have to call me Gunnery Sergeant. Gunny will do."

"OK, Gunny!" said Tony with a pleased smile, "Oops, sorry."

"What for?"

"I think an exclamation point might have got through …" said Tony sheepishly.

A rare grin cracked Gibbs' face, "You're OK. And I need another drink today …"

"You do! I mean, you do … you know, without any exclamation points 'cos I know you're not keen on them."

"Yep. The secretary found out I get coffee here in the morning. Asked me to get her a …" Gibbs pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and peered at it, "Dry cappuccino, skimmed milk with cinnamon on top." He shuddered as he gave the order.

"Sure, coming right up … er, what size?"

Gibbs looked blank at the thought of coffee coming in a size smaller than venti.

"Wait, is it for Sally?" asked Tony.

"How do you know about Sally?" asked Gibbs suspiciously.

"Good barista always gets to know his customers," boasted Tony, "I know Sally is a secretary and she always has a cinnamon topped cappuccino. Didn't know she worked that the NROTC though," he added thoughtfully. Gibbs got the distinct impression that the additional information had been carefully stored away for future use. "She'll have a tall," he said confidently.

"So," said Gibbs when Tony came back with the order, "You get to know all your customers?"

"Sure."

"You think you've got to know me?"

"You're a tough one, Gunny," admitted Tony, "I mean, I know you're a Marine. Some of the guys on the basketball team are in the NROTC – and they've said that you're one of the good guys …"

"They do, do they?" said Gibbs drily.

"Oh yes," said Tony earnestly, "Tough but fair. It's almost a cliché really."

"It is?"

"Well, you know – in the movies. The instructor is always tough but fair. A rough diamond with a heart of gold."

"And you think that's me?"

"I think so. I mean, I don't know but you always leave a tip. You say thank you – and believe me some people don't. And now I know that you don't mind buying coffee for people even if it's not the type you approve of. I think that makes you … kind."

"Kind?" asked Gibbs with a sceptical raised eyebrow.

Tony gazed back, "Sure. I think you're kind."

"Huh." Gibbs took the order and left quickly so Tony didn't see the laugh waiting to break through.

Tony watched him go and decided it was probably a good thing that he had kept enough control of his motormouth that he had not revealed that Gibbs' midshipmen also thought there was some tragedy in their training officer's past.

XXXXXX

It was hard to define what developed between Tony and the Gunny: not a friendship but perhaps an unlikely sort of kinship. Certainly, Gibbs found that he almost looked forward to getting his coffee made by Tony; his unfailing cheerfulness was a good start to the day and Gibbs felt that the beverages seemed to taste better when made by Tony.

"Where's Tony?" asked Gibbs when Tony had been absent for a couple of days running.

"Baltimore," said Mario.

"Baltimore?"

"Sure, it's the Final Four. Kid hasn't been able to stop talking about it."

"He's in the team?"

"Captain. He's good, you know. He'll probably go pro."

"What's he doing making coffee here then?"

Mario shrugged, "Working his way through school. Got a couple of scholarships but not enough to give him a full ride. He's a good kid. Customers like him," he nodded knowingly at Gibbs who he knew had mellowed considerably in recent weeks.

"He makes good coffee," said Gibbs brusquely, "Especially now he's given up the exclamation points!" He raised his cup in salute and left.

Basketball wasn't one of Gibbs' preferred sports, but he made sure that weekend to track OSU's progress and to watch the highlights programme. When he saw that they had narrowly lost, he subconsciously braced himself for a downhearted barista the next week.

"Gunny, got your order ready," said Tony on the Monday. Gibbs sensed that, unusually, he wasn't struggling to squash the exclamation points.

"Thanks. Hey, it was a good game on Saturday. You did well."

"You watched it?"

"Some – the highlights. Didn't know you played."

Tony shrugged, "Not the sort of thing customers want to hear about. And you're not exactly the chatty type."

Gibbs shrugged in his turn, he couldn't dispute that, "Still, it's a big thing. Mario says you're thinking of turning pro. That game will have helped with that, won't it?"

"I guess."

Gibbs left the coffee shop puzzled. He supposed that Tony was disappointed that his team hadn't won but there didn't seem to be any buzz from what they had achieved. He had heard Tony chattering away to other customers other times and was surprised that he had been able to contain his excitement so easily.

At the end of the day when Gibbs walked to his car, he saw Tony waiting for him.

"This part of you knowing your customers?" he asked, "Knowing where I park?"

"NROTC office is here, makes sense this is where you park. And I see your car most mornings, so I knew what to look for," replied Tony.

"Fair enough. Doesn't explain what you're doing here. I'm guessing it's not to bring me coffee."

"No. I thought about it, but I figured it might be cold by the time you came out. Sorry."

"I didn't expect you to bring me coffee," said Gibbs mildly, "What you want, Tony?"

Tony flushed, opened his mouth and then closed it again, "This was a bad idea!" said Tony, "I'll go …"

"Stay! Tell me why you're here."

"You're a Marine …"

"Last time I looked."

"You've been deployed?"

"A few times."

"Have you … have you ever killed anyone?"

"I was a sniper so, yes." Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he wondered if Tony had somehow managed to kill someone and was seeking a roundabout way of confessing. "Why do you want to know?"

Tony brushed his hair back in a sudden gesture of impatience. Gibbs spotted what looked like a burn on his forehead and realised that the lad looked tired and stressed.

"What's going on, Tony?" he asked in a gentler tone, "You can tell me."

Tony laughed breathlessly, "I've never killed anyone before."

"I would hope not. What happened?"

"We were in Baltimore. The Final Four – but you know that. I went for a walk the night before – trying to get my head straight. You know, we'd spent so long working out strategy … studying the other players … and everyone was looking to me. I just needed to get away."

Gibbs nodded. He thought he would have heard if one of the basketball team had been killed so wondered what Tony had to confess, "Go on."

"And I was just walking along when I heard shouting. A building was on fire and there was a kid screaming. And there was no one else around …"

"And?"

"I ran in. And there was this little kid, crying. So, I picked him up and made for the door. There were loads of flames … and smoke … and it was crazy."

"And you got the boy out?" Tony nodded. "That was good work, Tony. You should be proud."

Tony continued as if he hadn't heard Gibbs' words, "And just as we'd got to the stairs, I heard more crying. Turned out that the kid was meant to be looking after his baby sister. She was in another room. He was screaming at me to go get her … and I tried …"

"But?"

"The way to her room was blocked. I couldn't get through. The ceiling was about to come down … and I had the boy …"

"So you left her?"

Tony buried his face in his hands, "I didn't think I had a choice. If I'd stayed, the boy would have died. But I killed her, Gunny! I killed her." He lifted his eyes and looked despairingly at Gibbs.

"You didn't kill her, Tony," said Gibbs firmly, "You did what you could, and you saved her brother. This wasn't your fault."

"How do you know?" demanded Tony, "Maybe I could've got her out. If I'd tried harder – did I panic?"

"You didn't panic."

"How do you know? You weren't there!"

"Because I know you, Tony. You're quick and you're strong – if it had been possible to get that little girl out, you would have. And you don't panic – I watched you play in that game and you were cool, calm and in control. The guy I saw leading his team on the basketball court wouldn't have panicked."

"You sure? I keep reliving it over and over. I can't get her screams out my head. And the little guy kicked me when I let him down outside. He was so mad. I can't forget."

"You won't forget," said Gibbs after a moment's silence, "And you shouldn't. You did something good. You made a difference. Sometimes you have to make a choice and sometimes you can't make everything right. Like I said, you should be proud."

Tony stared at Gibbs as if to try and see if he was telling the truth, "Yeah?"

"Hell yeah. I'm proud of you, Tony and you should be proud too. You made a difference. Yes, you couldn't save the little girl, but you saved the boy. Hold on to that."

"Thanks, Gunny. I figured you'd know the answer."

"Not sure about that, Tony. But I know a bit of what you're going through. Make sure you don't keep it bottled it up inside. Talk about it if it bothers you."

"That what you'd do?" asked Tony with a hint of scepticism.

"Maybe, maybe not," grinned Gibbs, "Now, can I give you a ride somewhere?"

XXXXXX

"Gunny?" said Tony in surprise. It was a few weeks later and Tony was lying in bed in the OSU Medical Centre.

"Mario told me you were in here," said Gibbs, "Thought I'd drop by. Figured you might like some company."

"You've come to talk?" asked Tony in continued surprise.

"Hey, I can talk," protested Gibbs, "Brought you some magazines … and Mario sent you some of his pastries. Said he'd be in later."

"Thanks," Tony took the magazines, "Hey, Woodworking Weekly, Boatbuilding Knowhow, Marine Monthly. Great!"

"I can take them back if you don't want them."

"No, I want them!" Tony grasped them to his chest.

"What happened?" asked Gibbs, pointing at Tony's leg in plaster.

"I zigged instead of zagging," said Tony gloomily.

"How long you going to be out of action?"

"Three months – at least. Take time after that to build up strength."

"But you'll get there?"

"That's what the doctors say."

"That's good then. Have your folks come yet?"

Tony picked at the blanket and didn't look at Gibbs, "Only really got my Dad. I've got family in New York, but I haven't seen them for a while. And I've got relatives in England but that's a long way to come."

"So, just your Dad to come. Sounds like me, I've only got my Dad now. Where does he live? He in New York too?"

"He lives in New York, but I don't think he's there now."

"Excuse me?"

"He travels a lot – for work."

"And you don't know where he is? Don't you keep in touch?"

"I keep in touch. Senior not so much."

"Senior?"

"He's Anthony DiNozzo – same name as me – so I'm Junior and he's Senior."

"Huh. So, you keep in touch, but your Dad doesn't?"

"He's busy. Last time I saw him he said something about going on a wingding to Europe."

"Wingding?"

"Yeah, he goes around trying to make deals. Says he's an entrepreneur – he said he wants to get in on the art scene."

"Sounds expensive. Going to Europe."

"He's got money, lots of it." There was a hint of defiance in Tony's voice which suggested to Gibbs that he wasn't actually sure that his father was rich. Gibbs remembered that Mario had said that Tony was working his way through college.

"Still, he'll come back to see you. While you're in the hospital."

"Yeah, sure. The hospital hasn't been able to get in contact yet … but when they do … yeah, I'm sure he'll come back." The slump in Tony's shoulders said something different.

"Your frat brothers will be in to see you," said Gibbs.

Tony's face brightened with a genuine pleasure, "They'll have to tone it down though. Nurse Gregson has already warned them about behaviour appropriate to a hospital."

Gibbs grinned; somehow, he could imagine the antics Tony's friends would get up to.

"Gunny," said Tony in a more serious tone, "Can I ask you something?"

"Seems like you already did." Tony seemed to hesitate, so Gibbs relented, "Go on."

"Do you think things are meant?"

"What?"

"You know. Bad things happen but they're not always as bad as you think and sometimes they make you do something that turns out to be good?"

Gibbs gazed back stoically. In his experience so far, the terrible things that had happened in his life hadn't led to anything good happening, but he didn't want to cut Tony off, "Go on."

"Well, my leg is pretty bad. The doctors are making happy noises but …"

"They wouldn't lie to you, Tony."

"I know. But even if it does get better, I reckon it's going to be harder to convince clubs to take me on as a pro."

"Harder but not impossible."

"I know. And … well, I'm not sure I'm going to do it."

"Can't give up before you start, Tony. That way you'll never get there."

"That's not what I meant. I'm not sure I even want to try."

"Not try to go pro? Why?"

"When the doctors told me I'd broken my leg well, I could see that they thought I'd be worried. And I was, I want to be able to use my leg again, but I felt kinda relieved as well."

"Relieved?"

"Stupid, isn't it? But I realised that it might mean I wouldn't have to make a decision after all."

"What decision?"

"Ever since Baltimore. When I rescued the kid … I've been thinking about what you said."

"What I said?"

"About making a difference. That night was the first time I'd made a difference … I mean, I know I make great coffee and I make people smile in the coffee shop … and I'm good at sports … but that night I did something important."

"And?"

"And it felt good. I mean, it didn't feel good that the girl died but I knew I'd done something that mattered. And since then, I've been thinking that perhaps …"

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps I don't want to be a pro basketball player or a football player."

"What do you want to do?"

"I think I want to be a cop. I figure they make a difference … and I like people, I'm interested in them. I think it would work, don't you?"

"And that's why you think breaking your leg …"

"Technically the Michigan player broke my leg," interrupted Tony.

"OK, so you think that you leg getting broken was somehow meant because it would make you become a cop?"

"Why not?"

Why not indeed, thought Gibbs. He wasn't sure that was how the universe worked but he found that he could easily picture Tony as a cop and as a good one. Perhaps Tony would make a difference after all.

"I guess it makes sense …"

"Thanks, Gunny. Not sure I'd have thought of it without you talking to me about the fire. You know, making it make some sense."

Gibbs sat back in his chair as he tried to process this. He was still in shock from losing Shannon and Kelly and he didn't think that their deaths were in any way compensated for by coming into Tony's life but, for the first time, he began to think that good things could still happen in his life and that perhaps he also could make a difference. Perhaps his CO had been right to press him to take this posting rather than leave to take up a job with NIS: he had found that he almost enjoyed the challenge of the young NROTC candidates and had found some comfort in mentoring Tony.

"Gunny?" said Tony anxiously as Gibbs stared into space, "You OK?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Tony, I don't know whether you having a broken leg was meant or not, but I reckon that you being a cop sounds good to me."

Tony beamed with relief, "I still think it was meant … and Magnum was my favourite show growing up and he was a sort of cop!"

Gibbs grinned – the exclamation points were back!