Episode tag for "Chained," Part IV/Conclusion.

"Doubt – Part IV"

He paused his work for what seemed like the hundredth time that night and trained his ears on picking up any extraneous sounds coming from upstairs. He waited in silence, realizing, once again, that it had been a false alarm. With a weary sigh he glanced over at the clock. It was 10:30pm. Not terribly late, really. But not terribly early either. He couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out.

Of course, he could just pick up his cell phone, dial DiNozzo's number, and order the younger man to get his butt over there, ASAP. And he had no doubt that Tony would comply. The other man never disobeyed a direct order from him. He could also march over to Tony's apartment again and refuse to leave until his agent came clean about the past few days. But both of those options would utterly defeat the purpose. It was about more than getting Tony to talk to him about his feelings regarding the Jeffrey White case.

It was about showing the other man that he wasn't alone. That he had a place to go where he was welcomed and accepted. A place where he could feel he belonged. And it was a realization Tony had to come to entirely on his own. Gibbs had done his part, extending the invitation numerous times and in varying ways. Now he simply needed to wait for Tony to meet him in the middle. Unfortunately, waiting was never a particular strength of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Picking up a tool, he was just about to continue his work when he heard it. This time it was the unmistakable sound of footsteps upstairs. Gibbs held his breath as he focused on the sound, willing the footsteps towards the basement and down the stairs. It seemed to take forever. He heard a few steps, but then they faltered. Then a few more accompanied by another long pause, the owner of the feet engaging in an internal battle, and wavering between advancing and retreating. Finally, he heard the familiar creaking of the basement door, as he still sat in silence willing himself to breathe and daring not to move. Not yet.

Tony haltingly made his way halfway down the basement stairs and then stopped, at last daring to look at the occupant with a questioning look. One that indicated he still wasn't completely certain he was welcomed here.

Gibbs met his eyes and began the conversation with, "It's about time, DiNozzo."

Four words that held in their grasp the events not only of that evening, or even of the last few days, but of several months. Months spent trying to build a fragile understanding and trust. Months worth of stops and starts, successes and failures. Months that had led them to this moment. The moment Tony was finally prepared to show up in Gibbs' basement of his own accord, ready finally to bare just the smallest piece of his soul.

Still, there was hesitation. "You were expecting me, Boss?" Tony asked with a hint of surprise and confusion, even as a part of him already knew it to be true.

Gibbs simply gave him a look he knew well. What do you think, DiNozzo?

Tony prepared to take a seat in the same spot at the mid-point of the basement stairs that he had reluctantly occupied months earlier. But giving the younger man such an easy escape route was no longer an acceptable option for Gibbs.

"Not there." Gibbs indicated a chair next to his workbench just a few feet away from where he was seated. Not too close so as not to be threatening, but within a comfortable distance for both conversation and eye contact. "There's a perfectly good chair down here."

Looking just a bit nervous, DiNozzo obediently descended the remaining steps and took his seat in the chair. He glanced around the room, taking in the surroundings and really focusing on them for the first time. The room was very plain and simple, filled with the smells of sawdust, coffee, and a hint of what Tony assumed to be bourbon. If a room could hold the essence of a person, this one embodied his boss to a tee.

He turned his attention to the workbench and noticed the bottle of bourbon at the other end of the table. Gibbs instinctively opened the bottle and grabbed a couple of mason jars, pouring some of the liquid into each. But before he handed one of the jars to his guest, he issued a directive. "You drink this, DiNozzo... you're not going anywhere for a while."

Tony nodded his understanding, accepting the jar and taking a tentative sip to calm his nerves. Gibbs had been clear. It was too late to back out now. There would be no quick and easy escape if things became uncomfortable. And he wasn't going to get away with any dishonesty or smokescreens. He was terrified. And he was relieved.

Gibbs gave him a few minutes to collect his thoughts, but then could wait no longer. "Talk to me, Tony."

But the younger man's mind, usually overflowing with thoughts and words, drew a blank. "I'm not quite sure where to start."

His boss had mercy on him and gave him just the slightest nudge. "You told me you liked him."

His agent took on a very troubled expression. "I did, Boss. I wanted to help him."

"That's nothin' to be ashamed of, Tony."

Tony looked incredulous. "How can you say that? It almost got me killed. I came this close to having my throat slashed," he emphasized as he pulled back his collar in revealed the remnants of the cut to his neck.

"But you didn't let it happen. When it mattered, you did what you were trained to do," his boss assured.

"Barely. And for a split second, I even felt guilty about it," the younger man added with chagrin.

"Nothin' wrong with that either, DiNozzo. You have a conscience. That's a good thing." Noticing his guest still appeared unconvinced, Gibbs took a different approach. "So, why did you like him?"

Tony took a deep breath and exhaled. "Well, that's the million dollar question, isn't it? He seemed like more of a victim than a serial killer. He was nervous and clumsy. Unsure of himself. Easily led. Or so I thought. Kind of like the Probie, but not as smart and even nerdier." This drew a smile from Gibbs. "I guess I had this urge to protect him."

It was absolutely consistent with everything he knew about Tony, Gibbs thought. In spite of the way his agent could find a thousand or so ways to annoy and traumatize his teammates, the Lead Agent also knew him to have a fiercely protective streak. "What did you think you needed to protect him from?"

With a short, sarcastic huff of laughter, he answered, "Lane Danielson, for one thing." Suddenly Tony became slightly agitated, jumping out of his chair and starting to pace the tiny room. "Isn't that ironic? Danielson was the one who needed protecting from Jeffrey. The guy played me. He wasn't clumsy at all. And he was smart. Like a fox. And I fell for it. Maybe if I hadn't, Danielson wouldn't have died."

Gibbs frowned, hoping Tony wasn't actually trying to blame himself for what happened to White's accomplice. "Danielson was hardly innocent. He was a thief at best. And we don't know that he wasn't planning to kill you himself. You said the gun was his and he wanted to get rid of you. White may have actually saved your life."

Tony looked at his boss dubiously, though silently acknowledging that the other man may have a point, one he hadn't yet considered. "I still don't understand why Jeffrey didn't kill me too at the cabin. He already suspected I was a cop. He could've gotten rid of me and no one would have caught on to his location, probably until he'd sold the antiquities and left the country. So why did he take me with him and take the risk?"

The older man had nothing to offer to shed any light on that particular conundrum. Instead, he answered with a question, one he hoped may give them both some additional insight. "You said he told you in the car that he'd suspected you were a cop. He say anything else?"

DiNozzo walked back over to his chair, finally calmed somewhat from his earlier outburst, and dropped back into his seat. "He told me he'd meant it earlier when he told me no one had ever treated him like I had. I'm not sure now how he meant that. I mean, he was just about to slash my throat."

"He could've been sincere. Maybe he thought he could turn you and wouldn't have to kill you. But when you told him you were a cop and offered him a deal he knew it wasn't gonna happen."

"Maybe," Tony responded thoughtfully. "I should've picked up on something sooner. You know, I couldn't understand it when Kate told me she had a chance to take down Ari Haswari and she didn't take it. And now I've made the same mistake."

Gibbs shook his head slightly. "No, not exactly the same, DiNozzo. Kate saw Haswari commit his crimes. You didn't know White was a killer. When you did, you took action."

"But how could my judgment have been so far off? How can I trust my instincts now if I was so wrong about him?"

"You think I've never misjudged someone? Wouldn't we make arrests a lot quicker if I always knew when someone was lying to me?" Tony seemed to be considering the point. "I was the one who sent you undercover with the guy. You think I'd have done that if I thought he was a killer?"

"No, Boss, of course not," his guest replied with a frown. "But you don't think it's your fault, do you?"

The way Gibbs averted his eyes gave away his thoughts. If Tony was finally being honest, he supposed he owed it to the other man to do the same. "My gut was going off before the op even started. I blew it off, thought I was overreacting. I didn't have anything to go on. But I still should've told you I didn't have a good feeling about White." He reluctantly added, "I just thought it might sound a little crazy."

Tony had rarely known his boss to doubt himself and didn't know what to say. Was it possible Gibbs had begun questioning his own instincts in light of the information they'd learned about Ari Haswari's status as a double agent working for Mossad?

Prompted by the younger man's silence, the Lead Agent continued. "I let you down, Tony. I didn't have a good enough backup plan and let you get away from us. I didn't find the gas station quick enough. I should've known you were my hang-up caller. If I'd figured it out quicker, maybe I'd have gotten there in time and you wouldn't have been on your own against White."

"Wow, Boss," Tony said in awe. "I've never even thought about blaming you. I always knew you were doing the best you could to find me. The keys in the pay phone and the calls, I knew they were both long shots." Then the younger man thought of a possibility that actually might work to assuage his boss' guilt. "You know, if you had found us before I knew Jeffrey was the murderer, it might have spooked him. And I wouldn't have been expecting it. And, who knows, maybe he'd have succeeded in killing me. So, maybe it all worked out the way it was supposed to."

Gibbs searched the other man's features for any sign of dishonesty or insincerity, but found none. In spite of their recent circumstances, Tony still had absolute faith in him as their Team Leader. And he hoped they were taking real steps towards extending that trust to include the personal. The fact that Tony was here in his basement of his own accord sharing the things that a trained professional was unable to glean from him was the most positive development yet.

"I don't have any less faith in your judgment than I did before, DiNozzo. If I did, you think I'd let the Director put you back on field duty?"

"No," Tony responded truthfully. "You wouldn't do anything to endanger the team."

"And neither would you," Gibbs said with emphasis. He could tell by the look on Tony's face that he was seriously processing the information. Not all of the doubt was gone, but that would take some time. The important thing was that Tony now knew he wasn't so different from himself. None of them were infallible.

They sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes before Tony changed the subject. "You know, I didn't expect to ever be down here again after the last time," he said with a nervous laugh.

With a slight half-smile, Gibbs replied, "I know. Good thing you were wrong."

Now the younger man genuinely smiled, looking down almost shyly. "Thanks, Boss. For everything."

The older man gave a nod of affirmation and then added, "Should be a lot easier for you next time."

Next time. Gibbs had made a comment like that once before, when Tony had been staying there and his boss had made them his cowboy-style dinner. That time, the idea of a next time had been unimaginable. This time he knew it was true. He'd be back here again. He didn't know when or why, but he did know he now had a place to go when he needed comfort, assurance, safety. Or just to not feel so alone. And it was a lot more satisfying than a bottle of Scotch. Though the bourbon was a nice touch, too.

Suddenly, Tony thought of a question he'd been wanting to ask his boss, and now seemed like as good a time as any. "Hey, Boss? You never really explained to me why the Deputy Secretary of State filed a complaint to begin with. How did she even get in the middle of this?"

With an amused smile, Gibbs told the story, knowing his agent would appreciate the humor in the situation more than anybody else. "She conferenced in to MTAC for an update, but since you were undercover, and Kate and I were tracking you, the only one available to talk to her was Agent McGee…"

Tony broke into a huge grin, beginning to anticipate where the story was going. "Poor Probie. Please continue, Boss."

"Well, I guess McGee got a little flustered and she threw a temper tantrum when she found out we'd lost track of you and Jeffrey White. So I told McGee next time he talked to her to just tell her to stick it."

DiNozzo's eyes widened as he sat in momentary shock. "Nooooo…..did he? Tell the Deputy Secretary of State to 'stick it'?"

"He did," Gibbs said proudly.

Tony laughed. "I don't believe it! And I missed it! No wonder the Probie's been acting so funny."

"I told him he did a good job, but when he found out the Director was debriefing you and then you had to see the psychiatrist I think he felt a little guilty."

"Are you kidding? That's awesome! We're gonna make an agent out of him yet," Tony said, this time the one sounding proud.

"Maybe you should tell him that," Gibbs offered matter-of-factly.

"Me?" Tony said in confusion. "If you telling him he did good didn't help, I'm sure anything I say won't make a difference. I doubt the Probie cares too much about my opinion."

"Don't be so sure of that, Tony. I think it'd mean a lot to him."

As Tony sat considering his boss' last statement, Gibbs reached over and took the now empty glass from him. "I meant what I said about you not driving home anytime soon. Guest bedroom is in the same place if you're tired."

Tony knew he should've been tired, but he wasn't ready to leave the warmth of the basement just yet. "Thanks, Boss. If you don't mind, can I just stay here for a little bit? I won't interrupt you if you want to work on the boat."

His boss responded by picking up a tool and getting back to work, his guest sitting back in his chair and feeling more relaxed than he could remember in quite some time.

They remained in a comfortable silence for about an hour before Tony quietly got up and moved to the guest room.

Just before he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if he should start keeping a change of clothes in his boss' guest room. For all the "next times" to come.

Epilogue

Tony had made it to work the next morning early enough to shower and change into the extra set of clothing he always kept at the office with none of his coworkers any the wiser.

However, when McGee arrived to work, he did give a slightly odd look to his coworker, noting that the other man was there unusually early.

"Morning, Probie," Tony said playfully.

"Morning, Tony," McGee responded, still seeming slightly nervous. "Uh, glad to have you back…"

Looking around, to ensure they wouldn't be heard by any prying ears, Tony walked over to McGee's desk and knelt down conspiratorially. "Is it true, McGee?"

Tim's eyes got big. What could Tony be talking about? Could he have found out about the book I'm writing? Calming slightly once he realized his coworker would have no way of knowing about the book, he inquired, "Is what true?"

After a dramatic pause, Tony asked, "Did you really tell the Deputy Secretary of State to stick it?"

McGee turned five shades of red. "Y-yes. But Gibbs told me to. And honestly I didn't know it would cause you so much trouble, Tony. I'm really sorry."

"Probie…" Tony said very seriously.

McGee squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the onslaught.

"Good job!" Tony said, adding a quick pat on the shoulder for emphasis before going back to his desk. He noticed Gibbs had very quietly walked in and caught the very end of their brief exchange. The older man gave him a slight smile of approval, which made Tony smile.

McGee's mouth was hanging open momentarily before he began to smile too.

Just then, Kate walked in. After the stress of the last few days, it was a relief to arrive to all three of her coworkers smiling, even Gibbs. Until, of course, she realized that they were all unwilling to let her in on the joke.

Yes, things really were back to normal.