Chapter 3

He was shivering slightly, digging his fists deep in the pockets of his coat, ducking behind a low wall to get out of the wind.

It was early April and the days already had gotten reasonably warm and sunny, but at night, the temperatures still dropped quite low.

There was another reason for him to cover here, where he was out of sight himself, but had a good view of the entrance to the NCIS building and the exit of the employee parking lot, he was waiting.

The day had been hell.

He'd struggled with a major headache and the general feeling of being a complete looser, screw up and failure. He had not done one thing the whole day to prove those feelings wrong, but then he had not aimed to do so, had he?

He had lived up to some standard, DiNozzo-style. Whose standard was that anyway, he refused to reflect on that too thoroughly though. All in all, not a glorious day.

Well, there was no alternative. His fate had been doomed pretty much from the moment he walked into the bar the night before. But he had not had a choice then either. Tragedy! No acceptable choice. Good old Sophocles really knew his stuff. He had also had his ways with the mother-issues. Tony grunted and shook his head to get rid of that idea, that was a line of thought he should definitely not follow right now.

Instead he shifted his position as his leg began to cramp. Maybe, Ovid would be a Greek to muse about, well, more uplifting anyway, he sure as hell could enjoy the warm body of Corinna right now. Well, he had walked that path the night before and it had gotten him in the bad books with the people he regarded to be the most important to him. Awesome.

Kate had been furious and he was sure she would not get over it easily. He had to smile when he thought what she would say if he tried to talk about ancient poets with her. Her face would probably contort more than today, or she would just pop and vanish out of surprise. Well, he would never try and today he had made sure that she would not listen anyway.

Finally the figure he was waiting for stepped out of the main entrance. His steps were steady, determined and even at the end of the day full of energy. He was not wearing a coat, the cold was probably too afraid to attack him. Tony watched him cross the parking lot, enter his car and drive away.

He was regretting his actions. He hated to be disrespectful towards Gibbs. He had allowed him to regard him as a mentor; he had offered him a job and had taught him constantly to become a better investigator and man. It was a shame that he was not able to live up to that. No surprise there though.

Gibbs was finally finished for the night, so he could leave his hiding place and sneak back inside. As Gibbs and the rest of the team were gone, even Ducky and Abby, and it was not a seldom occurrence for him to come back to work at night, there was actually no need to sneak, but still he felt like he was doing something wrong.

Back at his desk he put in a couple of hours work. He really loved his job. He could contribute to a greater good here. He could help people. He could be useful, at least as useful as possible. One could have wished that one would make it through one's job and one's personal problems without screwing it up and the relations that one had with one's team mates, but he had stopped wishing a long, long time ago. Just take it and shut up.

He would have to get some hours of sleep to, he knew that, or he would collapse sooner or later, probably sooner. He was a wuss after all. The floor behind his desk would do just fine. He had slept there before; when a case required their full attention and Gibbs rode them until complete exhaustion over came them.

Despite this, he doubted it would be easy to fall asleep; he had to admit that he was troubled. At home he would put on the DVD of a classic movie or a Magnum, P.I. episode and be eased to sleep by the comfort of something familiar and predictable, something never changing, that would always end in some kind of happy end.

When he lay down, covered with his jacket, he was prepared for a light sleep, not deep enough for nightmares. He was exhausted and after an uncomfortable hour of pondering he finally succumbed to a fitful sleep.

Author's note: It's a short chapter, but more is coming soon. Please review!