Thanks once again to everyone who has taken the time to read and review/message/alert.
I know it has taken me a long time to get around to posting this but I've started a new job the other side of the country and things have been more than a little manic in the move, the new routine and everything in between. Thank you for your patience!
I've been writing this over the course of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations with all the patriotism, pomp and ceremony that comes with it; it is a very good time to be British! Hope everyone in the Commonwealth enjoyed the show!
Tony had returned to the hospital after his rather successful trip to Doctor Barton's office, the Senior Agent's earlier escape thwarted by the fact that the doctor's had wanted to run a couple more tests before agreeing to releasing him.
The Junior Agent had unexpectedly been allowed to keep the keys and drive Gibbs back from the hospital; he knew it made sense, given Gibbs' injury but he was still surprised at the Senior Agent handing over control of anything to someone else, least of all him.
He drove slowly and carefully in an attempt to avoid jarring Gibbs' shoulders injury and causing the man any more unnecessary pain. He thought Gibbs might appreciate the consideration; he should have known better.
"You always drive like a senior citizen, DiNozzo?" came a tired but wry comment from the passenger's seat.
Tony scowled and muttered to himself, Gibbs caught little more than a snide comment about having to be careful when driving senior citizens around which earned the Junior Agent a narrowed gaze.
"You want to dive straight into the interview?" Tony asked as his foot pressed down ever so slightly on the accelerator pedal; he was prepared to drive slightly faster to acquiesce his Boss just a little, but he was not going to risk going any quicker. Gibbs was shot on his watch; he was not going to cause the man any more pain no matter how grumpy the Senior Agent got!
"No, I want to see Ducky first and find out what he's got for me," Gibbs replied, neglecting to mention that he also wanted the M.E. to check over DiNozzo; the moment the younger man sets foot over the threshold to autopsy there would be no escaping the scrutiny of the good Doctor.
"Sure," Tony hid a wince; he suspected Gibbs' alternative motive for the trip to autopsy, but he wasn't about to deny the man anything while he was still so freshly wrapped in guilt.
"Really, my boy, what on earth were you thinking?" Ducky admonished the young man sat hunched down on the autopsy table with all the appearance of a scolded schoolboy.
It had not taken more than a single glance from the elderly M.E. before a stern lecture began on the importance of looking after open wounds and the due care and attention needed for head-wounds.
Tony had duly bowed down to the Doctor's orders, all too aware that acquiescence was the safest route, especially with Gibbs looking on.
He had sat down when he was told to and had been uncommonly still and silent while the Doctor dabbed at the wound with every antiseptic he managed to find, reeling off one unrelated story after another that Tony didn't even attempt to follow as he stared resolutely at his feet, trying not to let the fatigue show.
Gibbs watched on in concern. The Senior Agent knew that his latest agent had a strong dislike towards all things medical and that attitude worried him; would DiNozzo's reluctance to seek medical help one day lead to his death?
It was obvious to any idiot with eyes that DiNozzo was suffering through pain and exhaustion caused not only by the accident, but by the demanding few days the case had necessitated.
He had bitched and moaned over the occasional head-slap Gibbs had given him but he had been remarkably stoic about his recovery from the shooting back in Baltimore and over the injuries he had acquired since his arrival in DC; DiNozzo seemed to like being contrary.
"Head wounds can have very serious complications and you've suffered two in so short an amount of time that you really should be in the hospital getting a scan," Ducky continued to lecture. "And Gerald told me about the rather deplorable conditions in the factory; with an open wound like this one, you're vulnerable to all sorts of infections. There was a time in Cambridge…oh it must have been about twenty-three years ago now, and a young man very similar to yourself…"
"Duck," Gibbs interrupted the lecture quietly, giving the older man a subtle nod towards his quiet patient; DiNozzo either hadn't noticed the attention or he was resolutely ignoring it.
Ducky took the time to look beyond the physical hurts and towards the quieter but often so much more painful emotional ones that young Anthony was clearly going to great lengths to mask.
The younger man was sat hunched in on himself on the cold autopsy table as though sitting up required an energy that he just couldn't muster; fatigue from the last few days having caught up with his him and his body that was still recovering from major trauma. The entire time that Ducky had been ministering the wound, Anthony had been staring at his feet as they dangled over the edge of the table with a fierce amount of attention.
Ducky had not known the younger man very long and while Tony had all sorts of traits that were scarily familiar, there were still a lot of minefields to be uncovered in order to learn which topics were best avoided; doctors and all things medical seemed to be one of those topics.
He hoped that Tony's aversion was due to the injuries and bed rest he had had been forced to endure during his time on the job, but Ducky sadly suspected it went deeper than that; the younger man's father was clearly one of those minefields to be avoided and the Doctor suspected the best case scenario was that it was because of the emotional damage a parent could bring about on their child rather than anything more serious. He didn't want to think about the worst case scenario.
"Yes, well, I'm quite sure all will be well," the Doctor said as he gently placed a butterfly strip over the wound; he took a step back, hesitating only briefly before settling a hand on Tony's shoulder, "You're all done, young man."
"Thanks, Ducky," Tony replied quietly, looking up for the first time so he could meet the kindly Doctor's eyes. "I do appreciate it."
"I know you do, lad," Ducky smiled softly before turning away with the soiled tools in order to give the younger man a moment to collect himself. For all of his bluster and inane chatter, Agent DiNozzo could be remarkably close-mouthed about the things that truly mattered to him.
"DiNozzo, go and grab whatever Abby has managed to find on Aikers and Rodriquez; I want to go into interrogation with everything we've got," Gibbs finally said.
"Sure thing, Boss," Tony said with the first signs of eagerness breaking through, desperate as he was to escape from the scrutiny of the two older men.
Once DiNozzo had left, Gibbs turned to the M.E.
"Ok, Duck, give it to me straight; how's he doing?" he asked, rare concern shining through.
"Jethro, there is only so much I can do down here," Ducky gestured to the cold, metal environment that made up autopsy. "He's suffered from two head wounds in almost as many days; if I thought he would go, I'd take him to the nearest hospital for a scan."
"You think he needs a scan?" Gibbs asked, his concern deepening.
"I think it would be better to be safe and take the time to check rather than take the risk of ignoring it; head wounds can be unpredictable and fraught with complications and young Anthony does seem to be rather prone to them.
"You also need to remember that he was shot, Jethro. He suffered massive trauma from a bullet wound to the chest and then from the surgery necessary to repair that damage; it takes the body a long time to fully recover from an injury of that magnitude. It is very much evident that this case, along with his time at FLETC, has been taking a toll on both his body and his mind; he's exhausted, Jethro, and he needs to take the time to rest."
"I know that, Duck," Gibbs sighed, and he did. He knew that they had both been pushing themselves pretty hard for the case, desperate to find some lead that would bring the whole mess to an end. He also knew that neither one of them would back off until that end actually came about; their very deep-seated sense of duty would demand nothing less.
"We'll both rest when the case is over," he tried to assure the older man, although judging by the expression of doubt that flitted across the M.E.'s face, he hadn't been very successful.
"There'll be another one," Ducky muttered mostly to himself but no less serious despite it all.
"That's the job, Duck," Gibbs reminded the Doctor gently. He often found himself feeling beyond aggravated with the older man's flagrant shows of concern, both uncomfortable and ungracious with such open behaviour being directed at him, but he appreciated that his friend was simply doing all he could to look out for Gibbs in the only way he knew how.
"I'll drag DiNozzo to the hospital once Aikers has been charged," he stated firmly, leaving Ducky in no doubt that the Senior Agent had meant it whole-heartedly.
"I'm not sure he'll appreciate such a heavy-handed approach, Jethro," Ducky chided the man, his smile belying his stern words.
"He should have thought about that before making me his next-of-kin," Gibbs said with a smirk as he exited autopsy, Ducky's reports in hand, and headed for the interview rooms.
Gibbs was surprised when DiNozzo relegated himself to the observation room; whether it be the action in a gun-fight or a simple witness statement, the younger man usually liked to be in the middle of it all. Whilst Gibbs didn't normally appreciate sharing the interrogation room with anyone other than the suspect, he felt that after all they had gone through Tony had more than earned the right to sit in on the questioning.
They had worked well together during the Bradford interview, with Tony bringing something to the table that Gibbs could not; their two different approaches had fed seamlessly into each other to provide the result they had so desperately needed.
"You ok in here?" he asked the younger man from the doorway to observation.
"Yeah," Tony nodded. "I don't think there's much I can do in there," he gestured towards the two-way mirror and Aikers, who was sitting down and scowling fiercely into the mirror as he no doubt thought about the people in the observation room looking in on him like some exhibit in a zoo.
"Ok," Gibbs nodded. He was sure that the explanation was nowhere near as simple as that, but he was prepared to let it pass…for now. "Files?"
Tony handed them over.
Abby had given him the files and then he had been stuck receiving a lecture on allowing Gibbs to leave the hospital (as if Tony had a choice in that matter), and not telling Abby that her Silver Fox (Tony was sure that if anyone else had graced the Senior Agent with such a moniker, Gibbs would not have allowed them to live out the rest of the day) had returned.
He then had to force her to stay in the lab and finish her tests and not rush up stairs and give Gibbs 'a super-duper welcome back hug' breaking that all important Rule 22.
He wondered if it was the Caff-Pows or if Abby had always been a little…different!
"She's managed to match the blood on the holster; in fact, she managed to find two matches!" Tony said flicking the file to the appropriate place before handing it back it Gibbs.
"Harrison and Juan Carlos Marquez," Gibbs read. "One of the dead Diablos?" he questioned the younger man, receiving a nod in confirmation. "We can get him for murder," Gibbs allowed a sigh of relief, having initially being worried that the squirrelly son-of-a-bitch had only been going to face the trafficking charges and possibly one count of conspiracy to commit murder.
"Well, we've got enough evidence to point towards murder, but in the end I imagine it will all come down to the judge and jury. However, this," Tony gestured towards the file, "Along with Bradford's testimony means we have a pretty solid case and don't even really need a confession from him; we have him, Gibbs!" Tony stated firmly, a steely tone to his voice as he thought about the havoc the Gunnery Sergeant on the other side of the mirror had caused.
Gibbs nodded and left the room, entering the interview room a moment later.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Aikers demanded. "You have no right to keep me here!"
"Actually we do," Gibbs said quietly as he calmly sat down opposite the irate Marine. He carefully opened up the file, allowing Aikers to see not only the thickness of the folder but also of the gruesome image on the open page.
"Juan Carlos Marquez," Gibbs stated, removing the photograph and showing it to Aikers, glad to see the fire in the other man's eyes dimmed somewhat by a rising anxiety. "He's got a pretty impressive rap sheet and the only family he has left is a brother doing time in Florida; I doubt anyone's going to miss him too much.
"But this…" Gibbs slid across a photograph of Aikers' gun holster. "This puts you at the scene of his murder. You took great care to clean everything up; we couldn't find any clothes so you clearly managed to dispose of them pretty well; I'm pretty sure the Marine Corps will be pissed that you've disposed of one of your BDUs. Your gun didn't match up, so you were obviously smart enough to use another. There was no trace of GSR on your hands," Gibbs gestured towards Aikers hands that were balled into fists and resting on the table. "So you probably wore gloves.
"You were pretty efficient, Aikers," Gibbs refused to address the man by his rank, especially when the son-of-a-bitch was smirking at the apparent lack of evidence against him. "But you made a mistake. The black material of your holster might not have shown up any blood stains to the naked eye, but there was sure as hell blood there.
"We have Corporal Harrison's blood on there too, which puts you at the scene of his murder," Gibbs continued. "We also have the fact that when you were arrested by that rent-a-cop at the mall, you were carrying two weapons stolen from the armoury, the same armoury involved in a major gun-smuggling ring, and one of the missing rifles was found in your car.
"Then of course, there's Bradford's testimony," Gibbs said, looking straight into Aikers' eyes.
"Bradford wouldn't say shit," Aikers asserted leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, his body language defensive as the severity of his situation hit and doubt started to sink in.
"You have the man terrified," Gibbs agreed. "Of course, once he found out that you were full of shit, that you weren't working for the Sinaloa Cartel, he was a little more loose-lipped about everything that went down; the smuggling of armaments from the armoury at Norfolk, threats and intimidation, ordering Harrison's death and so much more.
"You're going down, Aikers, and there is nothing you or your father can do to change that."
"This has nothing to do with my goddamn father!" the irate Marine insisted, finally losing his cool as he half leapt up, ready to strike at the NCIS Agent sat calmly at the other side of the table.
"And there are the Daddy Issues," Tony mumbled to himself, earning a few curious gazes from the other people working in the observation room.
"You're right, of course," Gibbs agreed. "If your father had been involved, maybe this whole affair would have been a little more successful at your end."
"You son-of-a-bitch!" Aikers stood up and lunged for Gibbs but found his way blocked by a tall man whose green eyes were burning with silent fury. The Marine quickly found himself being slammed into the table while his hands were secured behind his back.
Tony had been in the observation room carefully watching Aikers, who looked ready to erupt at any moment, wondering if he should have been in the interview room with Gibbs after all; the man was injured and should not be faced with the possibility of being attacked and having his wound further aggravated.
The moment he saw Aikers stand up, Tony knew from the body language in a second flat that he needed to get in there and fast.
He placed himself between Gibbs and the irate Marine before quickly twisting one of Aikers' arms behind his back and forcing his face to the table as he reached for the other arm and secured both hands firmly in a set of handcuffs. Once the furious man was fastened, Tony shoved him none too gently back into his chair with a firm 'sit!' before turning to look at Gibbs.
The Senior Agent had reacted on instinct, an instinct that had been born of nature and nurture through his time in both the Corps and since he joined NCIS; the moment he saw Aikers stand he too had pushed himself away from the table and quickly got to his feet, ready to assume a defensive position. Unfortunately, the quick movement had jarred his injury and the quick flash of pain that spread through his shoulder had momentarily paralysed him.
Once he caught his breath enough to breathe through the pain and gain control over the rush of adrenaline running through his body he saw that DiNozzo had it all in hand.
"You ok, Boss?" Tony asked, his concern evident even through the fury that still burned in his eyes.
Gibbs would never in a million years admit it aloud, but he was proud of Tony in that moment; the younger man had reacted swiftly and efficiently and more importantly for Gibbs, he had shown not only an ability to watch his partner's six but the will to do so without hesitation.
Tony had thrown himself between his injured partner and a furious, highly trained and unrestrained Marine.
Gibbs knew then that he already had the partner he wanted in Tony; there was not going to be a lengthy waiting period where trust and familiarity needed to be strengthened as there was no need. The trust and familiarity necessary for a strong and successful partnership already existed; they were simply reinforcing it.
It was a comforting revelation.
He nodded to the younger man, trying to assure Tony that he was ok.
"Do you really think you need to add any more charges to the list?" Tony asked Aikers as he shoved the Marine, who was once again struggling to stand up back into his chair.
"Aikers, you're going down, but for how long and as to what kind of facility…well, that all depends on you; Leavenworth might have all sorts of violent and disgraced former soldiers, but even they have standards about treason. We still need the names of your runners, because I know you wouldn't have risked taking the guns across the border yourself. I'm sure you have a lot of names and information that would interest the DEA, too."
"You think I'm stupid enough to talk?" Aikers said, as he tiredly dragged his head up to meet the fierce gaze of the Senior Agent and remained completely unaffected by the hostility directed at him. "I wouldn't last two seconds inside if I even thought about talking to you, so all offence intended when I tell you to go fuck yourself."
"Michael Aikers, I'm charging you with murder in the first degree, contract murder…" Gibbs started to reel off every offence, taking great pleasure in seeing the formally irate man curl in on himself as the truth set in; there was no way out for him.
"I can't believe that we've actually come to the end of the case," Tony sighed as he flopped down into his desk chair. "It feels kind of anticlimactic, really; after all of that everything is done and dusted because of the evidence and we didn't really need to even talk to the guy."
"This is the real world, DiNozzo, not one of your movies," Gibbs said, tiredly looking up from his own seat. "Convictions rely on evidence and the fact that our evidence against Aikers is so overwhelming that a confession is pretty much unnecessary…well, that's actually a damn good thing."
"I wish we could have got him to talk, though," Tony lamented. "There must have been more people involved than just Henson, Bradford, Aikers and Rodriguez."
"Definitely, but Bradford only knew about Aikers and Rodriquez; he's given us all the information he can in return for a lighter sentence and a new identity for himself and medical care for his wife. Aikers is not going to tell us anything and we have nothing to trade, so the others that were involved will probably remain safely hidden away."
Tony snorted.
Gibbs looked over sharply towards the younger man, who was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed and hands folded neatly across his chest.
"And what the hell does that mean?" Gibbs demanded, a little insulted at being contradicted so brazenly by the Junior Agent.
"No way in hell are they safe, Gibbs," Tony assured the older man, his eyes still closed and a smile gracing his face, not at all affected by the fierce tone directed his way. "I've worked Vice before and I know that there is a fierce hierarchy, especially within the Cartels.
"These guys might have been supplying the Sinaloa Cartel with guns, they might not; we don't actually know where the guns went and I imagine we'll never know for sure. One thing we do know is that there are some pretty serious deals being done between the Sinaloa Cartel and various criminal organisations around the world and the Diablos are one of those organisations.
"This renegade group waged their own little war on the Diablos for a side deal that, by the looks of it, was not sanctioned by the higher echelons of Cartel command, and the effects of all that will be bad for Sinaloa business, as well as their reputation; it doesn't look too good to outsiders if they can't even keep their own house in order. The guys at the top are not likely to let this little venture go unpunished."
Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the Junior Agent who had still to open his own; unfortunately while the impudence was overwhelming, DiNozzo's logic was sound.
"Come on, we're going," Gibbs said as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. The long days of work and the effects of his injury were all taking their toll.
"Where are we going?" Tony asked curiously even as he got to his feet.
"Where I say we're going," Gibbs replied flippantly, heading towards the elevator. "I'm not holding the doors for you DiNozzo, so if you don't want to use the stairs get your ass in gear."
Tony ran to catch up.
Tony scowled fiercely at the man sat opposite him.
If he had known DC just a little better, if he had been just a little less exhausted and been paying just a little more attention to the road signs then maybe he would have known where they were headed before pulling up to the imposing building; perhaps he would have been able to talk Gibbs out of it.
Perhaps…
But he suspected not.
"I don't need to be here, Gibbs," he insisted, and he knew he was coming across as a whiny ten-year-old, but he couldn't find it within himself to really care.
"I told you I wasn't the soft option," Gibbs replied with a rather victorious smile. "The case is pretty much done on our end; ATF and the DEA have still got their work cut out for them but there's not really all that much more that we can do here in DC. So, while we might still have the paperwork to finish off, it's not as important as this," Gibbs insisted, gesturing to the room around him.
Tony's scowl deepened as he started muttering viciously to himself: "Kick a man when he's down…old man on a power trip…would have thought my opinion might be important…"
"DiNozzo, stop muttering to yourself; you may be here to get your head checked out, but if you carry on like that they'll think you need to be looked at in the psych ward," Gibbs pointed out wryly.
"So you're going to get your arm checked out, then," Tony stated matter-of-factly, a smile gracing his lips for the first time since he had entered the sterile environment of Bethesda.
Gibbs' responding glare was far more menacing than Tony's had been.
"Well that was a waste of time," Tony said as he got out of the car and stretched his long limbs, yawning widely as he did so.
"No it wasn't," Gibbs replied firmly, although he had to admit that it did seem like it. They had spent a good two hours waiting to be seen and then they had had to wait for the results of the scan to come back. During that time, Tony had somehow managed to get him to agree to having his shoulder checked over; 'smooth talking' didn't seem a strong enough phrase to describe DiNozzo's capabilities.
Both of them were fine.
Gibbs knew that Ducky had been right in suggesting that it was better to be safe than sorry, especially in regards to head-wounds and especially in regards to DiNozzo, but both men were far from patient.
Give Gibbs a nest and a rifle and he could sit still for days at a time, but in any other circumstances he liked things to happen.
DiNozzo, too, seemed to lack the wherewithal to sit in one place for any great deal of time.
"Come on, we've got a steak and beer with our names on it," Gibbs said as he headed towards his front door. They had both decided after their fruitless wait at the hospital that the paperwork could be ignored until the following day.
After the initial bickering that went back and forth about the validity of a hospital visit had died down, the two agents had settled into an easy conversation surprising both men, who were usually less than forthcoming with personal details, at just how easy and free-flowing it was between them.
"Only one beer?" Tony asked as he sank gracelessly onto the sofa, finally allowing the exhaustion to show.
"Only one beer," Gibbs confirmed. "Then we move onto the bourbon."
"Sounds good," Tony agreed sleepily before rousing himself and heading towards the kitchen, moving with familiarity around the small room as he gathered together all the necessary ingredients for their dinner. He didn't think it right that Gibbs should be forced to cook for the two of them when the older man was just as tired and was still very much suffering from his gunshot-wound.
"I suppose I should probably look into getting myself a bed," Tony said as he got a pan of boiling water ready; he loved steak and Gibbs cooked them to perfection, but Tony actually liked things with his steak, like vegetables or fries.
"There's no rush," Gibbs assured the man quietly, hoping that his usual taciturn nature wasn't making the younger man think he was outstaying his welcome.
"I know," Tony replied, looking up at the Senior Agent and smiling gratefully. "But I'm paying for an apartment that I've barely stepped foot in; I should probably try and get around to moving in there at some point."
"I'm sure you'll have a welcome volunteer in Abby," Gibbs smirked viciously.
Tony winced. "Do you think she'll be offended if I ban her from adding coffins and general Gothic touches to the place?"
"She'll probably just see it as a challenge to get around," Gibbs shrugged with his good shoulder as he set the table and handed over a beer.
"I don't want to bang my own drum too much, but I think we did pretty well together," Tony stated as they tucked into their steaks. "We solved the case, caught the bad guy and closed down a major smuggling ring right out of Norfolk."
"We did good, DiNozzo, but don't let it go to your head," the twinkle in his eyes belied the warning in his words.
"I'm sure you'll do everything in your power to make sure that it never does as time goes by," Tony replied with a knowing grin as he thought of the head-slaps and the sarcastic comments that had already been thrown his way.
Gibbs nodded his agreement, glad to hear the unspoken promise in Tony's words: that he was thinking about NCIS in the long term.
"Of course, I would like to point out that you were the one who ended up in hospital," Tony said glibly, a satisfied smirk adorning his face.
"So did you, DiNozzo," Gibbs contradicted the younger man.
"Yeah but I only had a little bump on the head; you got shot," Tony pointed out. "That counts as a proper trip to the hospital! So you can't hold my little bang to the head against me."
"Whatever you say, DiNozzo," Gibbs rolled his eyes, unwilling to venture any further into what he had already termed 'DiNozzo Logic'.
"I'm glad you agree," Tony's grin was full of mischief.
Then Tony turned serious.
"I don't know if I've actually said this yet, but thank you," Tony said with heartfelt sincerity. "I know I'm not exactly poster-boy material when it comes to the recruitment ads," Gibbs snorted at the understatement as he thought of the official reprimands and the reckless, often impulsive, bordering on suicidal behaviour. "You took a hell of a chance on me and I appreciate that; I'll do everything in my power to make sure I don't disappoint you."
"Hell, I know that, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied honestly. "And I didn't hire you so you'd feel indebted to me…"
"I know," Tony interrupted quickly, and he did know that. Gibbs had many flaws, but he was a man who held the values of honour and forthrightness to the highest degree, and while Tony was quite sure that the man could be as manipulative as the situation needed him to be, he was equally sure that Gibbs would always prefer the straightforward approach.
"Good, so we can leave this conversation here, then," Gibbs stated rather than questioned.
He was secretly very happy to hear that Tony was so certain of that and Gibbs hoped that he would always be able to hear such conviction from the younger man and that he would always deserve such staunch faith.
"Sure," Tony nodded, allowing a small huff of laughter to escape as he thought of the unlikely heart-to-heart; he was rarely so frank with his true emotions and he knew that Gibbs tended to avoid any and all sentimentality if he could, but still, the words needed to be said.
"Get some rest, DiNozzo; we've got all that paperwork to look forward to tomorrow," Gibbs said as he stood, gathering the plates and carrying them over to the sink.
"You sure know how to brighten a man's day," Tony noted sardonically as his thoughts were drawn to the small forest that would have to be executed so the top brass could get their paperwork.
"Well that's always been my aim in life, DiNozzo," Gibbs mockingly replied.
"Seriously?" Tony questioned. "Well, I've got to tell you Gibbs, for a Marine Scout Sniper, your aim sucks!"
The paperwork was going slowly, as neither Gibbs nor DiNozzo had the impetus to just sit down and finish it; they were both still tired, despite a good night of sleep and the urgency to close the case had ended with the death of Rodriquez and Aikers' arrest.
Gibbs felt himself being watched and looked up only to see Morrow leaning over the railings above watching the two men carefully, before gesturing that the Senior Agent should join him in his office.
"Back in a minute," Gibbs offered as he walked by DiNozzo's desk.
The younger man look up and saw the Director retreating back towards his office and was under no illusion as to where Gibbs was headed. Tony had almost completed his first full case with NCIS and he knew that the Director would want a sit. rep. before making any final decisions about his future at the Agency.
He knew that Gibbs would support him but he also knew that the final decision remained Morrow's, despite the Director's offer of a carte blanche for the Senior Agent to create his own team.
"Agent Gibbs," Morrow nodded a welcome from behind his desk as the Senior Agent entered the office.
Gibbs settled himself comfortably into the chair opposite the Director's desk; he was under no illusion as to what the impromptu meeting was about but he held absolutely no concerns whatsoever.
As far as Gibbs was concerned Tony had done more than enough to prove himself worthy of a position at NCIS even before he had arrived in DC; since he'd arrived, the former Homicide Detective had gone above and beyond to see the case through to the end and a successful conclusion at that.
There was nothing that Morrow could say to persuade him that he'd made a mistake in making Tony his first choice for his hand-picked team.
He waited.
"I'm glad that nasty mess over at Norfolk has been all wrapped up," Morrow began, leaning back in his chair as he studied the man before him.
"I wouldn't say it was all wrapped up, but we're pretty much done on our end; ATF and Border Patrol, as well as those involved in the relative areas of Military Intelligence, are no doubt going to want to try and work with the DEA in an effort to track down the missing weapons and see who's been doing the buying."
"But we just have to finish the paperwork on our end?" Morrow clarified.
"Pretty much," Gibbs nodded.
"And everything went well, in your opinion?" Morrow asked carefully.
"As well as you'd expect under the circumstances," Gibbs replied, being deliberately tight-lipped.
He liked and respected Morrow and appreciated the fact that the Director was usually much more straightforward than his counterparts in the other alphabet agencies.
Usually…
He would much rather Morrow just ask whatever was really on his mind but Gibbs was not in the mood to play the Pied Piper and lead the way.
"The circumstances?" Morrow queried.
"A weapons smuggling ring being run right out of Norfolk Navy Base that is supposedly supplying already heavily armed drugs Cartels and that has already resulted in the death of one good Marine and a whole host of other victims…I'd say the end result was never going to be perfect," Gibbs replied, his tone not too far from being disrespectfully sardonic.
"Fair enough," Morrow conceded with a small smile at the Senior Agent's brazen cheek.
Gibbs simply raised an eyebrow in wait; his stubborn determination to make Morrow speak first had won over his usual impatience with inane chatter.
"DiNozzo," Morrow finally came to the crux of what he'd wanted to discuss.
"DiNozzo," Gibbs repeated.
"You wanted him for your team; do you stand by that decision?"
"Absolutely," Gibbs answered immediately.
"Ok then," Morrow nodded and turned to some paperwork awaiting his signatures.
Gibbs frowned.
Morrow had been questioning Gibbs' decision to hire DiNozzo from the get-go and now he was suddenly ok with it all? The Senior Agent could usually rely upon his Director to be straightforward but his current behaviour seemed to be anything but usual.
"That's it?" Gibbs questioned, his former determination replaced by curiosity and incredulity.
"You may have been the one to be working alongside him, Jethro, but that doesn't mean I haven't been watching. Do I think you may have taken on more than you can handle in choosing someone as unpredictable as DiNozzo? You bet, and I'm certainly going to enjoy watching the fallout.
"But putting aside all of that, ignoring the discrepancies in his files and his tendency to visit the hospital at least once a week, disregarding the amount of crap circulating about him in the scuttlebutt and glossing over his more impulsive behaviour which can lead to rather…interesting outcomes," Morrow struggled for the right word as he recalled all the more colourful details from DiNozzo's personnel files.
"Discounting all of that, I think you've made a good decision in taking on DiNozzo," Morrow nodded. "He's got good instincts and while he can follow orders he seems to be just as capable of telling you 'no' should the situation require it; you need someone who's prepared to stand up to you every now and then, Gibbs, and while DiNozzo might hide it pretty well, the man seems to have a rather steely backbone to me."
The Senior Agent remained quiet.
He wasn't hearing anything he didn't already know but he had not expected the Director to have been won over so easily.
"I know you think I screwed you over with Nixon, and I'm brave enough to admit that I did take a certain amount of pleasure in seeing you being forced to work alongside him, but that's not why I did it; I was forced to assign a Probationary Agent to your team because there was no one else!
"You have managed to shrug off every single Agent that I have sent your way and seemingly with little to no effort on your part. Some of them have been competent and some of them certainly would have been once you'd trained them up, but you didn't want any of them.
"Did you seriously think that someone you wanted wouldn't catch my attention? I've done my homework on this one, Gibbs and while I can't say I know DiNozzo, I do know exactly what I'm going to be getting from him as an NCIS Agent; I wouldn't turn him away from this agency any more than I would you," Morrow finished, his sincere tone letting Gibbs know that he meant every word.
"Here, this is for DiNozzo," Morrow said as he handed over an envelope. "Give it to him when you think he's ready for it."
"Is this what I think it is?" Gibbs asked as the Director headed for the door.
Morrow smiled as he paused at the door; "I'm needed in MTAC."
Gibbs looked down at the envelope and realised that the Director had left it unsealed; he was under no illusions that it was far from being an oversight.
He glanced inside and immediately let out a laugh; Morrow had many flaws but Gibbs would always appreciate the fact that he was a man who never dwelt in the grey areas of life.
"So, no regrets?" Gibbs asked.
Tony stopped and took a good look around; "Well, a bed would probably have been a good investment, but no, no regrets."
Everyone in the room knew Tony was not talking about his new, unfurnished apartment.
"I can get you an extra coffin; it would look really cool in that corner," Abby offered as she sidled up to the young man with two bottles of beer, one of which she offered him.
"Where's mine?" Gibbs asked with a frown.
Abby rolled her eyes and gestured none too subtly with a nod towards the oldest person in the room.
"Really, Jethro! You're on painkillers and antibiotics that should not be mixed with alcohol; while young Abigail may have brought enough beer to supply a small Aircraft Carrier, I have brought along something much more appropriate for you," Ducky supplied as he handed over a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice.
Gibbs made no move to take the proffered beverage and his usually stoic façade faltered as his dismay shone through.
"Here," DiNozzo handed over his own beer and moved across the room to get himself another. "No offence, Ducky, but I find it hard to believe that you seriously think he's taking anything but the antibiotics, and I know that the ones he's taking are actually ok to take with alcohol."
"The fact that you know that, Anthony, is a sure sign that we will need to keep a very close eye on you," Ducky replied with a resigned sigh.
The M.E. then turned to Abby and described all the ways she could be harming her body and her natural sleep patterns with her proclivity for sleeping in coffins and stressing that what their latest team member really needed was a comfortable bed and all of the benefits that go with it.
"I've got something for you," Gibbs said as he walked up to DiNozzo who was gazing out of the window with a content look about him.
"It's not a slap to the back of the head, is it?" Tony asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"No, but I'm sure I could find one of those if you want," Gibbs offered.
"I'll pass," Tony said quickly, a chuckle escaping as he mockingly took a step back and lifted his hands up in defence.
Gibbs smiled; it was good to see DiNozzo still had his mischievous impudence even after the long hours, little sleep and all the after-effects of a concussion. The Senior Agent was a man who tolerated very little in the way of frivolity, but he knew that he needed the younger man's humour and affability to balance him out.
He handed over the envelope without a word.
Tony frowned, but reached for it, his natural curiosity getting the better of him. He opened the envelope, put his hand in and brought out a fistful of paperwork; his frown quickly replaced with confusion.
"Is this what I think it is?" he unknowingly mimicked Gibbs' words with the Director. "What about FLETC and the whole 'wait and see' policy that Morrow's got going?"
"I guess he changed his mind," Gibbs shrugged. He didn't really know all the details, as Morrow had spent the rest of his day in MTAC and hadn't wanted to be disturbed, but he knew the most important detail.
"I'm an Agent?" Tony asked, his disbelief obvious.
Both Ducky and Abby had stopped their debate over the merits of sleeping in a coffin to listen in on the conversation. Neither of them knew what Gibbs had been carting about in that envelope all afternoon, but they were both very happy with the contents.
"Yay Tony!" Abby squealed as she threw her arms around the latest recruit.
"Well done, lad," Ducky smiled warmly and offered a gentle handshake. "I'm very happy to hear that you will be staying."
"Thanks," Tony mumbled still staring in surprise at the paperwork in his hands,
"Tony?" Gibbs asked gently and waited until the younger man was looking at him, Abby still firmly hanging off one side like a giant, black limpet. "Good job, Agent DiNozzo," he offered with a smile and a handshake of his own.
"Agent DiNozzo," Tony tested the title before nodding. "I like it!" he grinned.
"Special Agent DiNozzo," Abby reminded him, pointing to the full title on Tony's new NCIS ID card that contained his new status.
"Very Special Agent DiNozzo, if you please." The grin showed no signs of dimming.
"You're certainly 'special', DiNozzo," Gibbs commentated wryly, arching an eyebrow in such a way that there could be no doubt that his comment was meant mockingly.
"Glad you noticed, Boss," Tony winked.
Gibbs finally allowed a smile of his own; he liked how naturally the title of 'Boss' rolled off DiNozzo's tongue. "Welcome to the team, Very Special Agent DiNozzo."
There we have it; Tony is now a fully paid-up member of the NCIS crew!
Rule 22 – Never ever bother Gibbs in interrogation.
BDU – Battle Dress Uniform or combat fatigues.
DEA – Drugs Enforcement Agency
Sit. Rep. – Situation Report.
Next up – the last chapter, I think. The rest of NCIS hears about Tony's change in status, Tony moves into his apartment, a conversation with Sam strengthens his resolve and Gibbs finally starts the move towards his team.