Lunch Is Served
071508
Disclaimer: I know nothing….. ah…. I mean I own nothing.
Summary: Lunch.
Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!
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Chapter 7
Tony's jaw dropped at the blatant hostility in Grant's low voice. But he was prevented from saying anything by Ziva's arrival behind him.
"McGee is setting the food up in the bullpen. Do you need help getting Agent Mars upstairs?" She asked, nothing more than polite courtesy in her attitude.
"No." Grant growled as he stubbornly attempted to rise from the sofa again. Gibbs, who hadn't moved away, caught the younger man as he wavered and then tipped forward.
"I said take it easy." The ex-marine chided as he gently pushed Mars back down. "Do you want someone to bring your food down here?" He asked quietly.
"I didn't order any food." Grant mumbled, his tone disgruntled. "Just keep DiNozzo away from me and we'll be good. I just need to catch my breath and I'll get out of your hair." He shoved shaking hands through his hair and rested his elbows on his knees.
Jethro tilted his head at the hatred in Grant's voice as he spoke Tony's name. He decided that it would be wise not to mention that Tony had paid for Grant's lunch. "It's on me." He said as he shot a meaningful glance at Tony's stunned expression. Suddenly the silver haired agent had the unsettling feeling he'd just adopted another misfit. He gave Abby a quick message in sign. "Take them all out of here so I can talk to him."
She nodded as she stood up."Ok, everyone. We'll let Gibbs handle this. Come on before the food gets cold." She began herding her teammates toward the stairwell.
"But… but…" Tony sputtered. "It's pasta salad. It's supposed to be cold."
Abby smacked the tall man on the arm. "Well, then. Let's go eat before it gets warm." She shoved her best friend toward the stairs.
"Abs." She turned back to catch Gibbs' next silent message. "Get Ducky to bring lunch down."
She signed back. "Ok, do you want coffee too?" She grinned unrepentantly at the scowl that appeared to the unnecessary question, she'd seen him throw away the empty cup only a few moments before. She decided a quick retreat was in order and followed everyone back up the stairs leaving Gibbs alone with the FBI agent.
Jethro stared down at the younger agent's bent head before silently walking out in to the main room and snagging a chair from next to an unused desk. He placed the chair directly in front of Grant, sat on it and waited for several quiet minutes. He recalled part of his conversation with Tobias while the FBI Senior Agent considered allowing Mars' transfer.
"If he's half the agent DiNutzo is, I can't pass him up just because of a little irrational fear." Tobias had grimaced as what he'd actually said dawned on him. "Never tell DiNutzo I said that. Swear Jethro." Jethro had sworn but had laughed at his old friend for weeks over his slip. Gibbs' face did not reflect his thoughts as he waited for Grant to say something. His patience paid off.
"He had no right to tell anyone." Grant muttered while staring steadfastly at the floor between his feet.
"It was something we needed to know to understand why you freaked out in the elevator." Gibbs replied. He paused and considered his next words carefully. "We all have issues from our pasts that affect us for the rest of our lives."
Grant grew very still. "Not like this." He said without looking up.
"That's true." Gibbs agreed mildly. "Some are worse."
Grant shuddered. "I can't imagine what would be worse." He paused to consider, his head tilted. "And I really don't want anyone to tell me."
Jethro huffed out what might have been a laugh. "Neither do I." Silence fell over the small office again.
"So," Grant began hesitantly. "You've got dirt on Fornell?"
The older man's steely blue eyes gleamed as he chuckled. "Oh yeah." But he waited until Grant brought his head up to gaze at him inquisitively. "He married my ex-wife."
Grant blinked, unsure that he'd heard correctly. "Um… Excuse me? He did what?"
Jethro nodded. "You heard me. It was my second wife and she left me for him. I told him not to do it but he thought he knew better. She took him to the cleaners... big-time." He grinned as Grant snickered.
"I don't know which is more disturbing, knowing that he married your ex or that she left you for him." Grant shook his head in disbelief.
"Well, once you get to know me a bit better you'll understand." Gibbs replied with a smirk.
"Somehow I doubt that. Fornell is a dick." Grant's already pale face blanched even whiter and he looked panicked. "Please don't tell him I said that."
Jethro gazed at Grant thoughtfully. While Tobias Fornell was a long time friend there was nothing preventing Jethro from admitting that said friend had his flaws. "Said what?" He deadpanned.
The younger man relaxed and shook his head. "Nothing. I never said anything."
It took all of Jethro's control not to burst into laughter at the obvious relief on the youthful face. His poker face must have slipped because Grant snuck a peek at him from under absurdly long lashes and began to chuckle.
"Well, you certainly sound as if you feel better." The refined British voice startled Grant. He jumped and retreated back into the corner of the sofa. All signs of humor vanished in a blink. The elderly ME placed his burdens on a steel table, wheeled it over and began pulling boxes and paper plates out of a plastic bag.
"Now I want you to eat as much as you are able. You've had quite a traumatic experience. I've also been given to understand that you often neglect to eat properly while you're working. That just won't do at all, my lad." Ducky instructed as he fussed with the portions. "Jethro, Abigail sent this to you." He handed the Team Leader a large styrofoam cup of coffee.
"That's my girl." Gibbs sighed with pleasure as he inhaled the fragrance of the fresh black brew. He didn't notice the sharp glance his statement garnered from Grant. He did notice that Ducky was dishing up three plates. "That looks good." He knew it would be fruitless to attempt to get out of sharing the meal. They'd never get Mars to eat if they didn't keep him company.
Grant's stomach rumbled as the rich scent of Italian dressing and garlic bread reached his nose. He reluctantly accepted the plate as Ducky offered it to him. "Thank you." He mumbled as he sampled the pasta. "Right on, lots of parmesan." He began to eat with enthusiasm, oblivious to the fact that Gibbs couldn't possibly have known what to order.
Ducky and Gibbs shared an amused glance as the younger man began to enjoy his meal.
Upstairs...
Tony slumped into his chair and glared at McGee as the younger agent slid a plate of food in front of him. "I'm not hungry." Tony shoved the plate back towards the edge of the desk.
Abby pushed it back. "You're never not hungry." She stated as she picked up a fork and helped herself to a huge bite of Tony's salad. "Oh! This is great!" She hopped up onto the corner of Tony's desk and settled in to help herself to more of his food.
Tony yelped as she slugged him on the arm. "What the Hell was that for?" He complained.
"Why haven't you ever taken me to this restaurant?" The Goth pouted at her best friend.
"I don't know." Tony whined as he rubbed his arm. "Never thought of it." He ducked another swat. "Aw, come on, Abs. We'll go next weekend, ok?"
"Sweet!" Abby grinned as she pulled a big chunk from Tony's garlic bread. She handed him a plastic fork and nudged the salad back in front of him. "It really is great."
"It's Grant's favorite dish." Tony's green eyes grew troubled as he poked at the pasta. "Why is he so mad at me, Abs?"
The scientist sobered as her crystalline eyes studied his unhappy face. "I think it's because you explained his phobia."
"I had to." He protested. "I couldn't have Gibbs report to Fornell that Grant's a nut case."
"They already knew about the fear but not the reason for it." Abby tried to soothe him.
Tony nodded as he absently took a bite of pasta and then he frowned. "Wait. Gibbs knew?" He groaned. "How?"
"When Fornell was reviewing Grant's file before approving the transfer he noticed that the two of you had worked together. He asked Gibbs to look the file over to see if he thought there'd be any conflict working joint cases. Obviously he said no." She explained quietly so no one could overhear.
Ziva looked over from her desk where she'd been devouring the lasagna that she'd ordered. "Tony?" She waited until he looked over at her. "You said you worked with Agent Mars before? Where was that?" She asked.
"Baltimore." Tony said shortly as he took a bite of what was left of his garlic bread. "Why?"
"You seem to know him like the top of your foot." The Israeli shrugged.
"That's the 'back of my hand', Zee-vah." Tony corrected her slang out of habit. "We were pretty close. He was the best friend I'd ever had until I met Abs here." His appetite deserted him and he pushed his food away. "Again I ask you... why?"
Ziva frowned down at her food. "He does not seem to be anything like you. I do not understand how you came to be such good friends. He seems shy and does not appear to have any confidence. He seems to be very quiet."
Abby giggled. "It's the quiet ones you have to look out for." She squeaked when Tony took advantage of her proximity to pinch her.
"Well, Officer Da-veed," Tony exaggerated her last name as always. "when we worked together he would walk into a squad room and everyone would turn to look, he exuded that much confidence. He's got skills you couldn't even begin to comprehend. He's a damn good cop but someone did something to beat that down."
"Where did he go to school?" McGee asked. His attention was divided in three ways as he ate his lunch, kept an ear in the conversation of his teammates and scrolled through the huge document file in Grant's computer.
Tony shot him a disbelieving glare. "He graduated with honors from Harvard Law." He answered. "Why?"
"I just know that the FBI requires some sort of degree and I wondered. Why did he choose to be a cop instead of a lawyer?" Tim asked curiously as he looked over at Tony.
"He always wanted to be a cop. He went to Harvard because that's what his mother wanted him to do." Tony stated quietly, effectively halting the conversation. He returned his focus to pushing the pasta around his plate.
All of them ate in silence for several minutes until Abby broke the quiet. "Grant knows who the dirtbag is."
"What?"
TBC
