CHAPTER 12
A few days later, on the very day that Vance was due to return from a trip to the Los Angeles office, Ducky gave Tony permission to remove the sling.
"Finally," said Tony with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He'd amended his report on the Lieutenant Hannaford case to explain the circumstances of his injury. Ducky added a succinctly written description of the medical aide he'd given to Tony, carefully wording it so it sounded as though he had been Tony's first choice to tend his wound, and not Jimmy Palmer. "Thanks, Ducky," Tony said sincerely.
Ducky nodded and said sternly, "Let us hope there will not be a next time, dear boy. However, as we both know that that is highly unlikely, I expect you to avail yourself of the services of our local emergency room. I think that it is best to save your friends for friendlier pursuits."
Tony made his way up to the bullpen, using the stairs, but as soon as he stepped out of the stairwell, Gibbs walked up to him. "You're with me, DiNozzo." Tony followed him into an empty office, wondering what the subterfuge was all about.
"We got a case in Pennsylvania, and you're staying here."
"But Boss…"
"Hey, you're still not cleared for field duty, Tony." Gibbs kept his voice down when he said, "This is going to take two or three days. You know I want you with me…"
Hating that he was going to be left behind, Tony tried to put on a positive face. "It looks like I'll be manning the fort again."
"Don't stay here all night."
"No, I won't. This'll be a good time to move my stuff back into my condo," Tony said absently. "My bag finally arrived from the Seahawk." There was a duffle bag downstairs in a storage locker, containing his clothes, a few CDs and books, and a cool Hawaiian shirt he'd found in Cartegena because it looked like something Magnum would wear. Gibbs had been in such a hurry to get them off the ship that Tony had had to arrange for his gear to be sent along after him.
His renters had vacated that morning and the carpets had been cleaned, so making the transition back to his own place would give him something to do while Gibbs was gone. He had a feeling that the evenings were going to seem very long during Gibbs' absence. He looked up to find Gibbs glaring at him and wondered what he'd said that had earned him such a dark look.
"You think you can manage not to overdo it? You're still recuperating." Gibbs indicated Tony's injured side. "You're not going to pass the physical next week just by flashing a pretty smile at the doctor, DiNozzo."
Normally Tony would have had a quick comeback to Gibbs saying he had a pretty smile, but Gibbs' tone made Tony refrain. "I think I can handle putting a few clothes away, Boss. Abby and Jimmy offered to help me lug my stuff over there from storage. I won't exactly be straining myself but my side feels a lot better," he said, touching the place where he'd been cut.
Gibbs was still glowering at him. "How is it you always manage to find trouble?"
Tony quickly retorted, "And there I was, thinking trouble always found me. C'mon, Boss, I was doing my job, and as Balboa will tell you, I disarmed the guy and the damage was kept to a minimum." Tony huffed out a humorless laugh. "Anyway, look who's talking. You're always jumping right into the fray."
"I'm talking, and this is about you," said Gibbs, getting in Tony's face. "I don't want to come back and find you've done something stupid to put your recovery back another couple of weeks."
"What's the matter, you worried you won't be getting any sex if I'm not in good shape?" Tony could see he'd hit a mark from the look in Gibbs' eyes, and he regretted immediately saying it.
"If I was only in this for the sex, DiNozzo, I would have made a move a long time ago," Gibbs said in a low, cutting tone.
"What? You're saying I'm easy? Low blow, Jethro." No matter what had made Gibbs change from a concerned friend and lover to a pissy boss, Tony didn't intend to stay around and take what he was dishing out. "You know what? I think you need to go on your little road trip, and I need to get back to work," Tony said, his voice tight. He turned on his heel and strode back to the bullpen where he sat at his desk, trying to keep his temper under control. If he slammed a drawer a bit louder than was necessary or glared angrily at his computer screen, well, it was better than lashing out at Gibbs. Neither of them would win if they continued the verbal sparring.
Gibbs was a stubborn man, but once he came to grips with whatever was eating at him, he'd realize that he hadn't been giving Tony a fair shake. That's what Tony expected of him, and if Gibbs didn't figure it out and apologize – or offer whatever Gibbs' equivalent of an apology might be – then Tony was going to walk away before he got really badly hurt. He cared enough about Gibbs that it was a very real possibility, and it hurt him to even think that they might split up before they even got together.
McGee and Ziva sent Tony curious looks and tried to talk to him, but he stuck to business and, for a change, they got the message to leave him alone. He expected that his teammates thought that he was put out because he couldn't go with them on the trip. That was somewhat true, but Tony was also relieved that he was going to have some time to himself. It was hard to think with Gibbs so close all the time, and he had some serious thinking to do – like whether or not he was going to move in with Gibbs, how they were going to conduct their lives together, and if they were going to hide their relationship from the world. That was, if they could sit down and talk to each other without slinging insults.
It would be tough to live perpetually undercover. They'd need to watch every word and gesture they made towards each other, always afraid of being found out. The consequences of discovery would mean big changes at work, different teams, maybe working in different cities. They'd be living a lie, and for God knows how long. Would it be worth it? Just thinking about the strain gave him a headache.
And what about keeping their relationship out of the office? He could just picture it if Gibbs was hurt, how difficult it would be to continue acting in a professional manner. Maybe Gibbs was right, and keeping the job and a personal life separate was going to be too much for them to handle. The problem was that even if they halted this before it went any further, hadn't they already let the cat out of the bag? There was sure to be sexual tension of the unfulfilled kind gnawing at them.
McGee came over to Tony's desk and asked in an undertone, "Tony, you going to be okay?"
Offering Tim his best DiNozzo smile, Tony replied, "Of course. While you are staying, three to one Motel 8 room where the beds are lumpy and Ziva is going to be snoring up a storm, I am going to dine well and be back in my very own bed for the first time in almost five months. Thank you for showing concern, Probie," he said, and then turned back to his work.
"You don't really think we're going to have to share one room, do you?" asked Tim, pulling a face.
Tony smiled knowingly. "Let me suggest that you get dibs on the back seat of the car and pack your own pillow."
A short while later, when Gibbs came to the bullpen to retrieve his handgun and coat, Tony didn't even look up. He felt, rather than saw, Gibbs hesitate as he passed his desk. Tony knew that Gibbs was about to say something to him, and was prepared to remain calm and collected, but McGee started to ask Gibbs about some details of the case. A couple of minutes later Gibbs, McGee and Ziva had collected their gear and were gone.
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Palmer joined Tony in the elevator and handed him a white paper bag. "Glad I caught you. I figured that you missed breakfast again. I got an extra coffee and muffin for you."
"Thanks, Jimmy," Tony said in a subdued voice, accepting the offering.
"No word yet?"
Tony shrugged. "No. McTravelmug has been sending me sit-reps but they can't stop for social calls. Especially not Gibbs."
Jimmy nodded in understanding. "You should know by now it's not his style. Hey, speaking of style, we haven't finished our movie marathon: Funny Face, Unzipped…I liked Audrey Tatou in Coco Chanel."
"Kinky Boots, we have to see that one. 'I have to warn you, I have a terrible habit of doing exactly the opposite of what people want of me.'"
"You are going to watch it with me, aren't you? Come over to my place."
The elevator door slid open and Tony stepped out. ""I don't know. Depends."
Jimmy held the door open with his hand. "If he doesn't come back tonight, Tony–"
"It's fine. I don't mind being on my own." Liar, thought Tony. All he wanted to be back in Gibbs' house, in bed with Gibbs snuggling up behind him, and Gibbs snoring in his ear, hot breath on his neck. And sex. He wanted sex with Gibbs. Just thinking about it had been driving him crazy, especially that first night, with Gibbs away on the job. Tony had tried to sleep in the big bed all alone, and had ended up jerking off, shouting Gibbs' name. Jethro, fuck fuck, Jethro! He'd felt faintly guilty afterwards, wishing he'd waited for Jethro to make love to him. Except they had to sort out whatever had made him lash out at Tony first, and Gibbs might not be prepared to go to such lengths as to say he was sorry for the way he'd spoken to him.
"Tony–"
"No, it's okay, Jimmy."
Jimmy stepped out of the elevator onto the main floor and the doors closed behind him. Tony started to speak but Jimmy forestalled him by saying, in a low voice so they couldn't be overheard by the NCIS employees walking by, "Look Tony, just because he hasn't called you doesn't mean he's changed his mind or anything."
Tony stared at Jimmy and forced a laugh. "Who said anything about anyone changing their mind?"
"I didn't say that…well, I did but my point is that, of all people for you to fall in love with, you couldn't have chosen anyone as steadfast as him. Now, I know he can't get the words out, but we both know he's crazy about you. Yes he is," Jimmy insisted, grabbing Tony's arm when he turned away.
"Jimmy, I don't want to talk about this, and after what he said to me–" Tony's words had no effect on the young man, who pulled him to a quiet spot around the corner from the elevators.
"Don't do this, Tony," Jimmy ordered.
"Do what? C'mon, I have to get to work." Tony raised his arms. "See, the physical therapy has paid off and I'll be ready and set to go the next time we get a call to grab our gear," he said with forced happiness. He was glad that the sling was gone, and his injured side had healed up faster than expected. That was probably due to Gibbs' constant barking at him to keep the sling on, to stop stretching before he was medically cleared to do so. God, he missed him even if right now he almost hated him.
"First thing you need to do, is to sit down with Gibbs and tell him…Tony, one of you has to start the ball rolling."
Tony sighed. "And we both know that I have to be the one."
"You need to make it clear what you need from him. If it's an apology then say so. And listen to him. Obviously his former wives didn't have a clue as to what makes the man tick, so at least you have a head start there," Jimmy said lightly.
"But…when McGee called last night, he asked Gibbs if he wanted to talk to me and I heard him…I heard him say no," Tony said, almost at a whisper. "It's a load of bullshit when they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder."
Jimmy smiled sympathetically. "It seems to me that you've proven that it's true. Look, tell you what, we'll go to lunch, talk some more. Right now I have to get downstairs and…"
They parted, Tony heading for the bullpen. It took him a full five seconds, once he got there, to realize that McGee was seated at his desk, and Ziva was behind hers, rummaging in her bag and muttering about something she couldn't find.
"You're back!" Tony cried, looking around for Gibbs. The only sign that the man had been there was an empty coffee cup on his desk and the faint scent of sawdust on the air, or so Tony imagined. "Where's the bossman?"
"Talking to the director," McGee said, smiling in a way that said that he was happy to be home.
"You bring back the bad guy?"
McGee's face fell. "The local PD got jurisdiction."
"I thought you guys had it all tied up," Tony said, going to his desk but keeping half an eye on the staircase for when Gibbs came down. "Didn't the money trail I found set him up for a fall?"
McGee said, "You were right on the money, Tony, and we caught him. It isn't that. It's a long story and not worth repeating if I want to save my ego."
Ziva pitched in, "They used their own ME and would not give up the evidence. They…they submarined us–"
"Torpedoed," said both Tim and Tony at the same time.
"Yes, torpedoed. Anyway, I was surprised that Gibbs did not put up more of a fight. It was not like him at all, was it, McGee?"
"He didn't seem himself," Tim said thoughtfully. "We're all glad to be back in DC, though. You were right about the motel situation, Tony."
"Snoring?" Tony asked, keeping his voice quiet. McGee nodded and rolled his eyes.
"He was acting unlike himself," agreed Ziva, still musing about Gibbs' behavior.
Tim added, "I think maybe the boss is coming down with something."
"Gibbs is sick? He never gets sick. Colds run away when they see him coming." Tony glanced up but there was still no sign of the man. If he wasn't feeling well he was sure to be extra grouchy but, on the other hand, Tony could warm up chicken soup as well as the next guy with a can opener.
Tim said, "We're sick of being in his company. He was…crotchety. Ornery."
Tony laughed. "Ornery? What is this, Bonanza? You mean he was grouchy?"
"Grouchy, out of temper, mulish," added Ziva, on a roll. Tony noticed that she kept a sharp eye out for Gibbs while she was offering her opinion of his state of mind.
"I'm sorry," said Tony. "I thought…I thought you said he was acting differently?"
Ziva laughed and leaned against Tony's desk. "So Tony, I hear you have been giving blood. Are you…sick? Perhaps you infected Gibbs. You two have been so close lately."
Trying not to read too much into her choice of words, Tony kept his eyes on his computer screen. "No, I'm not sick, Zeeva. I've been recuperating from a wound I got in the line of duty."
"Yes, we know all about that. You told us about how brave you were, several times." Ziva looked Tony up and down. "I see you have finally removed the sling. Perhaps it was a…a…what do they use in movies? A prop, that is it."
"I wore the sling because I got sliced by a crazy guy with a big knife, but I'm feeling better now, thank you very much for asking," Tony retorted. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He didn't feel in top form because he hadn't been sleeping all that well. It had been difficult to get comfortable without Gibbs in bed with him. Plus he'd been thinking a lot. The question was, now that Gibbs was back, was he going to sleep any better?
Gibbs came down from his meeting with the director and sat at his desk. "DiNozzo," he called across the bullpen without raising his eyes. "You got your condo sorted out?"
"Uh, yeah, Boss. Everything in its place. Home sweet home," he said with mock cheerfulness. "I had to change the locks." Gibbs looked up and met his eyes and even from across the room Tony could see he was annoyed about something. Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his key ring. "Oh, you'll want a spare key."
Tony was still trying to get the spare off the ring when Gibbs' voice cut across the bullpen. "No."
"You don't…? But you always want the key." He thought of the fuss Gibbs had made about getting a key 'for emergencies' when he'd found out Tony was staying at Jimmy Palmer's apartment.
"Give it to Ducky," Gibbs said and went back to his work.
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Tony was cleared by his own doctor as well as by Ducky. That was days ago. He'd been sleeping at his own place, and although he had been left wondering what the hell was going on in Gibbs' mind, Tony did love his condo, especially after being forced to leave home for the four months he was Agent Afloat. As far as Gibbs went, well, if he was going to be an ass, then there wasn't much Tony could do about it. Gibbs was just going to have to apologize before they went a step further in their relationship. Tony's rules. Okay, it was currently a non-relationship but Tony was willing to wait it out.
He still had to put up with weekly blood draws but Ducky was gentle. The ME assured him that he'd talk to the Surgeon General that day and convince him that Tony wasn't carrying the plague, as they'd thought at first.
Tony saw Gibbs every day while at work and they treated each other in a professional manner. To most people, Gibbs appeared to be his usual self, abrupt and demanding, but both Ziva and Tim could sense a strained undercurrent between Tony and Gibbs.
"What have you done to make Gibbs angry with you? You must make it right," demanded Ziva.
"Can you just do something to say you're sorry, Tony, so we can all get back to normal?" pleaded McGee. "If this is about the key…"
"No it isn't about a key! And what makes you think it's my fault, anyway? Look, I'm not telling Gibbs I'm sorry for anything when…" When it isn't my fault. "When it's against the rules," Tony said firmly.
Even Abby asked Tony why Gibbs was acting oddly towards him. "It's sort of like he can't stand you around but he can't take his eyes off you, either, Tony, like he's fascinated by you in a five-car-pile-up-with-gore-smeared-across-the-road kind of way. You know what I mean?"
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The phone on Tony's desk rang. It was Director Vance's assistant, Rochelle, informing him he was to report to Vance's office right away. Gibbs hadn't come back; Tony had a feeling that he was in deep shit.
Rochelle ushered Tony in and the first thing he saw was Gibbs, standing in front of the director's desk. Tony walked across the plush carpet and stood beside Gibbs.
"Special Agent DiNozzo," said Vance, his tone stern.
"Sir." Tony glanced at Gibbs, trying to get a sense of what was going on. Gibbs didn't turn his head and the fact that he was practically standing at attention in front of the director's desk did not bode well.
Vance was looking at Gibbs with narrowed eyes, his lips pursed as he contemplated his next words. When he spoke, it was a command. "Sit. Both of you." He indicated the chairs directly in front of his desk.
If anything, Gibbs stood straighter. Tony watched him, awaiting his cue. For a moment he thought that Gibbs was going to outright refuse, but then, without any fanfare, he took a seat. Back still ramrod straight, eyes ahead, but he sat. Tony took the chair next to him and tried to appear something between relaxed and attentive, which wasn't easy because he was uptight and nervous as hell.
Vance made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh, apparently accepting that Gibbs was not going to give an inch. Tony had no clue what was causing the friction, but he was concerned that it might have something to do with him. If so, there was no way he was going to allow Gibbs to do anything that might jeopardize his job and career. Not for his sake, of that Tony was certain.
Vance turned his dark eyes in Tony's direction. "Special Agent, DiNozzo, a report came across my desk this morning that concerns me."
Tony raised a politely questioning eyebrow. Oh shit, here it comes. He's found out about Gibbs and me. He's going to try to shame me into quitting, or coerce me into taking a position overseas. Shit, shit! We haven't even done anything yet and we get busted. And Gibbs, what's the director going to do to him?
Vance said, "It appears, Agent DiNozzo, that you have been trying to hide something from me."
Tony looked at Gibbs but he was watching the director with narrowed eyes. He looked pissed. This was not good.
The director said to Tony, "I heard that while you were working on the Hannaford investigation, you were injured."
What? Tony closed his eyes for a second, willing his heart to stop beating as if it were trying to escape from his chest. Is that all? Well, it was inevitable that the director would find out about that, and at least he didn't know about their relationship, whatever state it was currently in. Tony decided that this was a good time to keep to the facts – just the facts, ma'am. "Yes, Director Vance. Agent Balboa and I were attacked by a suspect who we were seeking for questioning."
"I understand that he used a knife?"
Tony said, "Yes, sir." Vance inspected Tony, but as there was no sign of any injury, there was nothing to see. Before Vance could speak, Tony added, "It's healed up now and I re-qualified for field duty just this morning." He turned to Gibbs and said, "Got a 240 out of 250, Boss."
Gibbs turned to look at him for the first time since Tony entered the room. "Better get you some time on the range then, DiNozzo, to get that score up to 250," he said evenly.
"C'mon, Boss. You know nobody ever gets a perfect score," said Tony with a laugh. Gibbs raised his eyebrows and Tony quickly said, "Except you, of course. I'll book it for first thing in the morning."
Gibbs said seriously, "Yes you will, and I'll be there, DiNozzo."
"Should I be worried, Boss?" asked Tony, with a hint of a smile, relieved that Gibbs was playing along with him.
"Depends on how you score tomorrow," Gibbs replied with a smirk.
Vance interrupted. "Gentlemen, if you have finished arranging your schedule, let's get back to Lieutenant Hannaford. As you know, the lieutenant was a close family friend and…well, his passing has affected my whole family. I'd like to thank your team, Gibbs, for wrapping up the investigation so quickly, and with the minimum of fanfare."
Gibbs nodded, accepting the praise. "As you pointed out, it was a team effort. Abby's forensics, Balboa and DiNozzo doing the field work, and Dr. Mallard, of course."
"Yes, I read Balboa's report, and see he revised it to reflect the incident with the attack DiNozzo. He says…" Vance paused to pick up a paper off his desk. "He says that if Special Agent DiNozzo had not acted so quickly, he is convinced that he would have been the recipient of a serious knife wound, and that Agent DiNozzo acted bravely, at grave risk to his own person, in order to subdue a dangerous criminal."
Tony was taken aback, not only by Dino Balboa's words, but by Vance reading them aloud. There had to be a catch.
Sure enough, Vance's voice lowered as he said, "It was sloppy of your agents, Gibbs, not to have searched the suspect as soon as they encountered him and–"
Tony broke in, saying, "I'm sorry, Director, but we had only just encountered the guy, in a narrow hallway, and hadn't yet ID'd him as a possible breaking and entering suspect we were seeking."
Vance looked displeased at the interruption. "I'll give you that, DiNozzo, but there is also the fact that, once it was over and you were back at NCIS, you made no attempt to report your wound. You didn't even write it up until long after the fact, and only, I suspect, because Special Agent Gibbs ordered you to do so." Tony opened his mouth to defend his actions but Vance raised a hand to stop him. "In addition, you didn't go directly to an emergency room, but instead commandeered the services of Mr. Palmer, who is not qualified to handle wounds of that nature."
"Yes, sir, you're correct. I did take advantage of Mr. Palmer. I coerced him, and–" Tony was halted by Gibbs putting a hand on his arm.
Gibbs shook his head slightly that it took Tony a moment to catch on that Gibbs was telling him to shut up. There was a look of anticipation in his eyes; something was going on.
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and Ducky stuck his head in. "Oh dear, I am so sorry to interrupt, everyone. I assured your assistant that it would be all right to allow me entry, Director."
"I'm sorry, Director, but…" Rochelle said as she tried to block Ducky from entering.
Ducky skillfully maneuvered around the frazzled looking secretary and said, "Yes, thank you dear, as you can see I am fine now."
Vance made an impatient gesture towards Rochelle and she retreated, closing the door behind her.
Ducky approached Vance's desk, a file folder in one hand, and halted next to Tony's chair. He gave him a squeeze on the shoulder when he started to rise. "No, my dear boy. You stay put. This won't take a minute, will it…Leon? I just wanted to personally hand in my report on the Lieutenant Hannaford case. I was remiss and completely forgot to add my report on the emergency care I provided to Special Agent DiNozzo. My assistant, Mr. Palmer, saved the day, you know. He did emergency surgery on Anthony and stemmed the flow of blood in my absence. I was summoned and returned just in time to check on his work. Mark my words, Mr. Palmer will make a fine doctor one day. Now, allow me to outline my results in the case."
Tony listened with suppressed glee as Ducky went over his findings from the autopsy, and then related his side of the incident, leaving Vance no room to find anyone at fault. Ducky wrapped it up by pointing out that teamwork was the key to such a successful outcome, and he made everyone sound indispensable. By the time Ducky launched into an illustrative tale from his days in Borneo as a medical student, Vance had had enough and shooed them all out.
They left Vance's office with Tony receiving a mild warning, and he knew he'd gotten off easy. As soon as he, Ducky and Gibbs were safely in the elevator, Tony said, "Thanks, Ducky."
"My boy, we all know that you showed poor judgment by not dealing with your injury immediately. I know that you will not repeat it. I expect that Director Vance will look at you a wee bit more favorably from now on."
"Vance is being paid to be suspicious," Gibbs pointed out. "He wasn't sent here to make friends."
"Ah no, and cleaning house of all the riffraff can be so tedious, especially when one cannot see what lies directly under your own nose." Ducky looked directly at Gibbs when he said that.
"My eyesight's just fine," Gibbs replied, not appearing to be very amused.
Ducky peered at him critically. "My mistake. I was led to believe that you are quite far-sighted, Jethro."
"I can see plenty good when I need to."
"Ah, but do you want to?" asked Ducky, with a quirk of a smile.
Tony looked from Ducky to Gibbs and back again, not quite sure what the two men were inferring.
The elevator halted on the lower level and Ducky patted Tony's arm. "I'm getting off here. Back to work. If I don't see you again, I hope that the both of you have a splendid weekend," he said with a pleasant smile.
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