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I stop sawing for a moment to take another swig of the amber liquid. I stop as I hear footsteps above me. Everyone, whether they know it or not, has distinct strides, postures, smells etc. I knew these footsteps right away with the confident stepping as he made his way down the stairs.
"Hey Boss" Tony DiNozzo's voice rang out in my basement.
"Hello DiNozzo." I reply sharply. Tony walks down the wooden stairs and hits the cement of the floor. "What are you doing here so late at night?" I ask, already knowing the answer, I continued to sand my boat.
"Well I…uhm…you see I…Well," Tony stutters. I roll my eyes, turning and facing my senior field agent. The agent I have the most trust in.
"Spit it out DiNozzo!" I snap.
"Well, I was thinking. Uh…my dad, you know…" Tony shrugs, now I know what he was getting into. Of course I've read all of my agent's files, as well as Abby's and Ducky's and even Vance's. I know almost everything. Almost.
"What about him?" I ask, trying not to be so obvious I'm interrogating him.
"Well, there were things I didn't tell you about him." Tony states. I know this was coming.
"Really?" I played dumb, I know Tony caught on to this.
"Yeah, Gibbs, he's not a good guy…" Tony trails off.
"How so DiNozzo?" I ask, playing dumb and eager to hear what he has to say.
"He's not a good man boss" Tony reiterates. I nod my head. Tony looks away, he finds my workbench and hops up and sits on it. He looks at me. I look at him. I notice he's uneasy at my stare so I go back to sanding and swigging my bourbon. This helped Tony open up. "He was never there for me. He wouldn't be what I'd consider a father at all." I nod, letting him know I'm listening.
"Bourbon" I offer although it sounds more like a command. Tony takes the emptied out glass container for nails that is now filled with the amber drink.
"Thanks boss." Tony took a strong swig of it. "Seeing him again. It just brought back horrible memories." I nod, sawing off a piece of wood that was too long. "He wasn't very good at being a father. Everything else, yeah, he was good at, but that, no" Tony finished his bourbon and went back for more.
"How so?" I ask, looking at him after he fills his glass with the drink. He stops and looks at me.
"You know Gibbs, you'd make a good father." Tony was drunk. I could smell it from here. The bourbon got to him though I am fairly certain that he had a few beers before coming over here. "That's the sad thing. You were denied that chance but my dad had it granted to him. Makes me sick that's what it does"
I had a dream the other night. It was extremely strange. For one I was married to Jen and DiNozzo, Ziva, McGee and Abby all lived with us, but they were younger, a lot younger. Duck was there as well. My memory is spotty about it but I do know there was something about Chinese take out involved. I shove the thought out of my head as Tony continues rambling.
"He would be gone for days without telling me. I'd be alone for hours at least. I took the bus to school so that was no big deal. But I hated it when he got home. He was usually angry. He was a heavy gambler. For as rich as the bastard was he was good at loosing money too. And he drank. Like I know how you and I and Ziva and McGee and Abby and Ducky drink when we're out and stuff but this guy could drink." Tony was starting to slur his words the glass in his hand was in rapid motion as Tony swung his arms for emphasis on his words. "He would get drunk and come home and yell at me. I didn't do anything!" Tony defended, though a look of doubt crossed his face for a moment.
We dealt with a case like this once. A marine was found dead and there was a witness, the 12-year-old daughter. She admitted to killing him after she showed us her scars of where he beat her on a daily basis. Tony took that case relatively hard if I remember.
"I remember so clearly how he would take his belt and whip me. I wish that it would go away, like a wound. The scar is still there but the pain and remembering what it looked like is gone. Like all of that was wiped from my memory. Nope, I'm cursed with the memory" Tony shrugs, and laughs. It was odd, but the bourbon was getting to him. He pours even more bourbon into the half-full glass. "You ever feel that way Gibbs?" He asked, his eyes are slowly examining my boat as if he's never seen one before.
"Everyday I feel like that DiNozzo" I state dryly to him. He looks at me with his alcohol-cloudy eyes.
"Right, sorry boss" He hangs his head. "But you wouldn't have hurt Shannon or Kelly would you?" Those names sting like a wasp bite. Tony doesn't give me time to respond. "See what I mean? You wouldn't touch a hair on their heads. That's what's confusing to me." Tony swigs down the final gulp of his glass and reaches for more but I take the now almost empty container of bourbon from him.
"And my dad was a womanizer. When he was drunk he'd ramble on about how this new girl he met was so gorgeous and everything he'd ever dreamed of in a girl. Then he would dump her and move on to the next leading lady"
"Sounds like you DiNozzo" I mutter under my breath trying to hide a small smile.
"What was that Boss?" DiNozzo gets up off of the workbench and stumbles over to my boat and leans against it he stumbles as the boat was in a different spot he thought it was in.
"Nothing DiNozzo" I state, stifling a laugh at the agents antics and then look back at my wooden beauty.
"Why can't we be like this thing?" Tony knocks on the wood skeleton of the boat. "You know, hard and sturdy and sure and honest." Tony pats the wood. "And have beautiful grain and smooth texture" Tony then rubs his face against the sanded frame of the boat smiling like a dumb ass.
"You know you're making absolutely no sense right now?" I ask, bemused at his antics.
"Oh yeah, but hey, at least there's no stupid party games" Tony shrugs and gains his balance after stumbling a bit.
"You think you should go to bed? We do have to work tomorrow and you'll be fighting one hell of a hang over." I reasoned.
"Yeah, but it's worth it. I mean look, we're hanging out like men and this is the only way I could tell you what was going on." Tony states. I couldn't tell him that he didn't have to tell me and that I already knew, but something about the gesture of him telling me made me feel like I was playing my role as a father again. A role I had that was short-lived and how much I long for it back still makes my heart ache.
"Let's go upstairs. I probably still have one or two of your shirts." I lead the drunken man upstairs. I turn off the light of basement, planning to go to bed myself. The skeleton of the boat will be waiting for me when I return.
