Title: Facing Forward
Author: CSIGeekFan
Rating: T (mild language)
Beta: Seattlecsifan
Disclaimer: If I owned NCIS, I'd have more than 4 pennies in my pockets. Oops. It's only 3 pennies. I must not own the show.
Author's Note: Reviews are appreciated. I hope you enjoy.
X X X
Tony loved to stand on the end of his dock in the morning. Even in the worst of storms, like the one that blew at the moment.
Moaning winds crept across the water, whipping through his hair as he sighed in relief. The waves, just hours ago, had risen high enough to have half the residents of the town keeping The Washout open after hours as a meeting house. Wives and children had Chief DiNozzo on the line with the US Coast Guard. Not that there was much he (or they) could do. While the USCG could track the most troubled areas out in the mighty sea, it didn't help settle the nerves of loved ones back home.
To top it off, the storm had reached high enough winds to blow out the power – not an uncommon occurrence. Phone lines had followed within an hour. He'd been lucky to have enough time to check on the girls, make sure the wood stove was stoked high, and head the half mile back into town.
People wandered in and out all night, with the bar's owner pouring generous mugs of coffee and the occasional shot of whiskey.
But eventually, in the wee hours of the morning, the winds had died down on land, although they hadn't yet out at sea. The residents of the small fishing community took the time to pray down at St. Patrick's on Fifth Street, and hover around town for further notice, although the initial panic had eased. By no means were the fishermen out on the wild waters deemed safe, but at least without the reminder of the storm, the people felt a little more calm.
Tony finally got home just a few hours ago to find the girls curled up on the sofas near the wood stove, sound asleep. School wouldn't be cancelled, though. No… even with only short-wave radio the only option of communication, life went on in his town.
Power would return soon. Eventually, the phone systems would follow, and life would get back to normal.
Sipping his piping hot coffee, Tony smiled as the sky lightened through the thinning clouds. Morning was about to arrive, and as cheesy as it might sound, life went on. And thankfully, no boats had activated their locator beacons. No Mayday calls had erupted through the emergency communications system.
His town was safe.
Turning back to look at the two-story Victorian, he smiled even wider. When he'd bought the house on the rocky outcropping, it had been on a whim. Never had it occurred to him that it would become a home. He'd certainly never intended to fill it with kids. Hell, his video collection and monstrous home theater took up two rooms. But the old structure with the wrap-around porch had appealed, as had the isolation of the location. His hideaway had been intended as a place to lick the wounds of his former life and slough off the perpetual, bone-deep fatigue.
Instead, his teenage and pre-teen wards slept on peacefully between its wooden walls, safe in the knowledge that he would take care of them.
Then his mind turned to the boy. Chuckling, he mused, A man now. A Marine.
In just a couple of short months, he and the girls planned to visit Curt in Norfolk, Virginia where he was stationed. While Tony might have come to love the town, he too had felt the winter-induced cabin fever. It would be good to get the hell out of Dodge for a bit and actually visit a real restaurant. With their luck, though, he and the girls would walk right into a hurricane.
X X X
"Hey, Chief," Tammy greeted a short while later without raising her head from the trashy romance in her gloved hands. Without anyone in the holding cell, they tended not to use the generator. Small towns didn't have a hell of a big budget.
Bemused, Tony wondered how she could read, considering the power hadn't come back on yet, a flickering candle provided the only illumination, and the sun had barely peeked above the horizon.
After she flipped the page, she added, "I took the dress down to Rita yesterday after you left so she can alter the hemline like Mary wanted. So, you won't have to stare at it all day."
Please, God, tell me she's not altering it shorter. It was knee length. Knee length is good, Tony thought, and dumbly nodded in response.
"Thanks," he replied, wondering when his life had become a sitcom that devolved into the mundane. After last night's fiasco with Mary and Tommy on the couch, he'd spent several hours wondering if he ought to show the boy his arsenal of weapons. Then the storm had hit harder than expected, and he hadn't stopped for so much as a breath.
Downing the last sip of coffee, Tony held out the mug and asked, "Any chance I can get a refill?"
Rolling her eyes, Tammy retrieved the travel mug and sauntered out, leaving him sitting behind his desk.
At the door, bundled in her coat, she said, "And Chief? The phones are still down. I think even the cell tower took a hit last night, because I can't pick up anything."
Winter might be over, but the winds off the water brought in remnants of the bitter season. Blowing out a long breath, he dropped his head onto his desk and already wanted the day to end. Caffeine only got a man so far. Sleep usually helped, and he didn't see that being an option until all utilities were up and running. So heaving an exaggerated sigh, he got to work.
By the time Tammy returned from her run over to Ruthie's, he'd already completed all outstanding paperwork. To top it off, he'd even pulled out all the emergency supplies and inventoried them. He was grumbling under his breath and about to go after her when the lights suddenly flipped on. Then, within seconds, the furnace in the back room made a thumping noise and heat began to blow out of the vents.
Thank God, he thought. About to freeze my ass off in a literal way.
Tammy danced to his with a mug of coffee in one hand, and sack that smelled suspiciously like cinnamon rolls in the other.
"Ruth sent 'em. Fresh out of the oven," she said, hoisting the paper bag and then dropping it on the chief's desk. "Aren't you glad she's still got that antique wood burning stove? And that you didn't give her a fire safety violation for not having it inspected when she should've?"
Oh yeah, he mused. Some things are worth overlooking.
X X X
"Hey Chief," Ian greeted with a smile as he sauntered in an hour late.
Purposely glancing at the clock, Tony turned back to his deputy and asked, "Get your beauty sleep, sunshine?"
"Awww, c'mon, Chief," Ian replied, his smile turning to a Cheshire grin. "It's not like I coulda called. Lost the cell reception early on and I'll be damned if the land lines aren't gone."
Sometimes Tony truly believed dealing with his second-in-command was harder than handling Emily on a tear. Both could come up with an excuse for anything, and usually used charm to get themselves out of whatever trouble they found.
"Go out to Everett's place today and make sure he's okay," he said. "I checked his generator last night, but let's make sure he's got power back as well."
"You could just call!" Tammy announced from her position near the door. Holding up the receiver, she grinned wide and said, "Cell may be down, but we've got a dial tone here."
"Then let's get busy, people," Tony said, turning to the short-wave radio. As he contacted the local Coast Guard station to let them know the town was back online, Ian was on the phone with the locals that had medical equipment necessitating a smooth transition from generator to working utilities.
He'd barely signed out and turned back to retrieve any messages Tammy might be pulling from the answering service when he caught the look on her face. The typical smile had turned to a frown.
"Tammy?" he asked as she punched some numbers on the phone.
"Chief, you better pick up line 2," she replied, as his curiosity peaked.
Complying, he opted to punch the speaker phone for the line. The sound was tinny, but crystal clear. And it surprised him to hear his oldest kid's voice on the other end. While he only had Curt for a couple of years, he thought of the boy – make that young man – as his responsibility. Those three kids may not be his in the most basic sense, but it sure as hell felt real enough.
Hey, Pops? I really need to talk to you, okay? During the tense pause that followed, Tony felt his pulse pick up at the hesitant tone in Curt's voice. Um, I think I'm trouble. Something happened, and… well… Pops, I don't know what to do. Call me when you can, okay? Tony thought the call was over as five, then ten seconds passed. He barely heard the young man say, Pops? I need help.
When Curt's voice cracked, Tony's eyes shot up to meet Tammy's concerned gaze.
"Call his commanding officer. Use the full authority of this office to track him down and give me a call when you have something," he said as the typically bubbly clerk set to work. Turning to Ian, he quietly said, "Get me to Virginia. Call in any favors you need to. I want to leave within the hour."
Now he had to go home, pack a bag, and let his girls know Ian would be taking care of them. He just prayed that by the time he got to Norfolk, he'd have some idea of what the hell was going on. One thing nagged at him, though.
It was the first time since the kids' parents died that he'd heard fear in Curt's voice.