Jan 23
Disconnecting from change does not recapture the past. It loses the future.
Kathleen Norris, O Magazine, January 2004
Anthony DiNozzo did not like change for the sake of change. More often than not, things worked better before some interfering busybody who had never been in the real world came along and ordered alterations.
Some things never changed, despite however many attempts. They provided comfort in a world that viewed change as necessary. Gibbs and his addiction to coffee, basements and bourbon. The way Jenny watched Gibbs when she thought he wasn't looking, although the man always knew. Ziva messing up her idioms and her threats of death and pain. McGee's inability with women and obsession with computers. Abby just being… Abby.
He doubted he would ever change. His mask protected him, hid the real, damaged DiNozzo from prying eyes with the smiley, jokey Tony. Showing vulnerability was not an option.
And yet he had grown up over the years. He used to chase after every woman who crossed his path, fall head over heels in love with them before falling out of love three weeks later like clockwork. After Jeanne, after he had learnt at the worst possible time that he was capable of falling in love and staying there, he had accepted change. Sure, he still flirted, he still appreciated women. But he no longer fell in love at a moment's notice. Instead, he watched from afar, determined not to have his heart broken again.
