March 1946
United States
"Ziva," Tony uttered the words in his sleep and then caught himself. Sitting straight up from the bed, he tried to remember where he was and what he had done. The quick motion caused his stomach to clench. He dove for the trash can next to his feet.
Outside the cell, Jethro had been watching Tony. First, he had wanted to make sure that the young man didn't get sick in the night from all the alcohol he had consumed. Secondly, he wanted to make sure that Tony knew, again, he could come to him for help. But, mostly, he had hoped he might get some emotional response out of the boy that would push him to heal from the scars he so obviously hid.
When he was sure Tony was through, he opened the cell door and handed him a glass of water.
"Drink, DiNozzo," the Sheriff ordered.
DiNozzo shook his head and in a pitiful reply answered, "I don't think I can."
"It's water. You need it."
Tony took the cool water and downed it immediately.
"When's the last time you ate solid food, boy?"
Tony looked through bleary eyes at the Sheriff and tried to remember. When he took longer than he should have to answer, Gibbs replied. "That's what I figured. Stay here while I go get you something."
"Don't worry, sir. I'm not moving." And Tony laid back down on his upset stomach on the cot, his head hanging off the side, close to the trash can.
Gibbs smiled and left to go find the soldier something that wouldn't be too hard on his stomach. He found bread and ham still in the refrigerator from Gibbs' lunch the day before. He threw together the sandwich and went back into the holding cell. Dragging his chair closer to the bed, he put the sandwich down and grabbed the trash can. Putting it outside to hose down later, Gibbs grabbed a second one from a nearby desk and replaced it in the cell. He also got another big glass of water for the boy to drink. He gently nudged DiNozzo.
Gingerly, Tony sat back up on the cot and took the sandwich. He took a few bites and followed that with another glass of water. Gibbs sat quietly while the young man slowly returned to his senses.
"Better?" Gibbs asked.
Tony nodded his head, replying, "Yes, sir, some. Why am I here? Did I do something?"
Gibbs smiled, "No, Tony, not this time. Palmer was concerned for your welfare and called me. I figured it would be easier to deal with you here than in your home."
"So, I'm not under arrest? I'm free to go?"
"Whenever you feel well enough to get up and go," was Gibbs reply.
Tony nodded, "Thank you, sir. For everything."
Gibbs said, "No problem, DiNozzo." And headed for the cell door. He stopped, just short of leaving and turned back to the young man, "By the way, who's Ziva?"
Tony's head jerked up as if he'd been slapped. If he'd had any traces of fog left, they cleared instantly at the question. He answered, "Why do you ask?"
"You called her name several times during the night. I just wondered what the significance was."
Tony stood, "There is no significance, Sheriff." Tony's tone lacked any emotion at all. He walked directly to the Sheriff, trying to leave the cell but Gibbs still blocked the exit.
"You know, Tony, you're not the only one who's suffered loss and been through the trials of war. I knew a young man, once, much like you. His experiences in World War I effected him so much upon his return to the States that it nearly cost him the only person he ever loved."
"What happened?" Tony's curiosity, in spite of himself, was piqued.
"Go talk to Doctor Mallard. He can tell you the whole story." Gibbs moved aside to let Tony pass but not before adding, "But don't wait too much longer, Anthony. Trust me, you won't find your answers at the bottom of a whiskey bottle and drinking alone just makes the ghosts come all that much quicker."
Tony froze in his tracks and looked back at the Sheriff. Gibbs face wore a knowing smile. Tony started to speak and then changed his mind. With a nod, he left the jail and the annoying Sheriff Gibbs behind.
Tony looked at his watch as he walked down the street towards the apartment. He shook his head. It was 4pm and he had lost almost a full day. A quick glance inside the restaurant, as he made the block saw the girls cleaning up and getting ready for the supper rush. As he made the back stairs, the smells of garlic and onion and the cooking sauces caused Tony's stomach to lurch again. He emptied his stomach of the few bites of sandwich Sheriff Gibbs had given him and made it up to his rooms.
Once inside, Tony stripped and bathed and took several aspirin to quiet the drumming in his head. Changing into denim jeans and a white t-shirt, he really didn't know what he was going to do next. Part of him wanted to go back to Palmer's; part of him wanted to talk more to the Sheriff about his mysterious and sudden interest in DiNozzo; part of him wanted to crawl into bed and cover up his head and never come out; and, part of him wanted to die, just to stop the constant pain he couldn't seem to escape.
The knock at the door pulled Tony from his darker thoughts. Opening it, he found his best friend, Tim, standing there, holding a small covered pot.
"Tony?" Tim asked, "May I come in?"
"Please," and Tony stepped aside letting the younger man in the apartment. Closing the door behind him, Tony followed the smell that drifted from the pot. "Tell me that contains Hanna McGee's famous potato soup?"
"It does indeed contain my mother's soup. Since you won't come to the house, she sent me here." Tim grabbed a bowl from the pantry and spooned it full of the steaming liquid. He got a spoon from the drawer and set the bowl on the table, pulling out the chair and motioning for Tony to sit.
DiNozzo didn't have to be told twice. The smell alone had his mouth watering and he had half of it downed before he remembered his manners.
"Did you want some?"
Tim smiled, "No, it was made for you. Heard you tied one on over at Palmer's and I thought you might need something to get you back to normal."
Tony lowered his spoon and looked at McGee, "This is why you're my best friend, Tim. You're always there for me when no one else is."
Tim lowered his head, struck by the emotion in Tony's voice. McGee tried to lighten the mood, "Well, there might have been another reason I came."
Tony finished the last bite of the soup before looking at Tim and smiling, "Oh, you mean the other young lady that works in the restaurant downstairs?"
Tim smiled back, "Yeah, I heard you were going to keep it open."
"Might as well. Between Cali and Abby, it pretty much runs itself." Tony leaned back in the chair as he spoke. "So why don't you go down and see her?"
"During the supper rush? Are you kidding? Abby would have my head."
Tony stood up and returned his bowl and spoon to the sink. Turning back to Tim, he said, "Come on, let's go."
Together, they went downstairs to the restaurant and entered the kitchen through the back door. Abby was up to her ears in sauce and spaghetti but turned as the door opened. Squealing in delight, she dropped the dipper back into the sauce and ran to hug and kiss Tim.
Realizing Tony was standing there, too, she quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, Mr. DiNozzo. I shouldn't have done that."
Tony shrugged, "Why not? He's your boyfriend."
She grinned and turned back to the stove. Tony had an idea. "Abby, is there anything else that has to be actually cooked?"
She turned back to her boss, "No, sir. It's mostly just serving what we've got. Besides, there's only about an hour left before we close for the night."
Tony winked at Tim and then looked at Abby, "Give me your apron, Abigail, and get out."
She squealed again, "You mean it? Really?" but she was already untying the strings.
"I mean it." He nodded as Tony took the apron and put it over his head.
"You sure about this Tony?" Tim asked cautiously.
"I'm sure. I think I still know my way around. Now get, both of you before I loose my nerve and change my mind."
Both smiled and, hand in hand, exited out the back door just as Cali entered through the kitchen door.
"Abby, where's my…" She looked at a smiling Tony, "Where's Abby?"
"She left with Tim." He replied.
"And how am I supposed to serve these people up front?" Cali's voice was agitated.
"One plate of spaghetti, coming up. Is that meat sauce or meatballs?"
Cali eyed him warily, "Sauce only, Mister DiNozzo."
Tony flinched at her tone but handed her the plate. He noticed his hands only shook a little. She took the bowl, eyed Tony again, and then went back to serve the food.
The next hour passed quickly. Tony kept the plates coming as Cali came back and forth with orders. A little after 9:00 pm, she told him the last customer was gone.
Tony started cleaning up the kitchen. The sauce would be saved and used for tomorrow's lasagna. The desserts would be covered and put in the large walk-in freezer. The only thing that would be thrown out was the pasta. He washed the large pots and pans and the few remaining dishes that he hadn't gotten to earlier. When all the dishes were clean, he put them away, readying the kitchen for work tomorrow. Tony finished by wiping down the stove top and the oven and sweeping and mopping the floor.
After finishing that, he joined Cali out front. She had already stripped the table cloths and napkins and set them to wash. The clean silverware had been wrapped and readied for tomorrow in between patrons. Cali was just putting the last of the chairs on the tables to begin sweeping up. Tony grabbed the broom and did that while Cali took the wet cloths and hung them to dry overnight on the lines outside the back of the restaurant.
When Tony finished, he sat down on the counter top, as he had done when he was younger, and looked around the restaurant. He caught a glimpse of himself in the large window and examined his appearance. The clothes hung loosely on his frame. His t-shirt showed the sweat stains of hard, hot work over the stoves in the kitchen. He also found various pasta sauce drips. Tony didn't have to worry too much about his hair as it was still in the "high & tight" military cut. Cali suddenly appeared in front of him.
"Why'd you do it?" Cali asked
"Do what?"
"Work tonight and let Abby leave?"
"I don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do. Besides, I think I wanted to prove to myself that I could still do the work."
Cali smiled, "Well, you did good, Mr. DiNozzo."
He inwardly cringed at the use of his given name. He knew why she was doing it. He did remember that scene from yesterday.
"Look, Miss Gibbs, about what I said…"
"It's alright, sir. My father warns me all the time about being too familiar with people."
There was that term again. "What do you mean?"
Cali sighed, "I get wrapped up in people to the point that I feel like I know them. But, my dad says I really don't. Like you, for instance."
This should be good, Tony thought, as the girl continued, "I've heard the stories of you from your father. He showed me a few pictures. He talked always about you and your mother. How your mother's nickname for you was 'prezioso Tonio' – 'precious Tony'. I just thought, I could see that, how your mother would call you that."
All during her speech, she had been worrying the teardrop pearl between her fingers. As she continued to talk, Tony gently pulled the necklace from her hands and let it drop back to its resting place. With his other hand, he pulled her hands down to rest on his legs. Leaning slightly forward, he kissed her quiet.
She didn't move away. On the contrary, Cali leaned into the kiss, running her hands up Tony's legs and locking them in the empty belt loops of his jeans. Anthony pulled back.
"I don't think you're too familiar, Miss Gibbs. Forward, maybe," he smiled, "but not familiar. Just between us, you may call me Tonio."
Cali smiled, "After a kiss like that, don't you think you ought to call me Cali?"
Tony smiled. The girl had a way.
From his vantage point in the squad car, Sheriff Jethro Gibbs had watched the interlude between Cali and Tony unfold. It was all he could do not to burst through the front door and strangle the young Mr. DiNozzo. However, he also knew you couldn't stop destiny.
Cali had been infatuated with Antonio DiNozzo, Jr. the first time she'd seen him in her father's jail. Cali had dropped by to bring her dad lunch. Tony was in the cell being lectured by the Sheriff. Cali had listened quietly, sneaking peaks at the handsome teenager. Tony was nineteen, almost twenty. Cali had just turned fourteen. Gibbs had let Tony out and he walked right past the girl, winking at her as he went. The girl was at her father's desk in five seconds flat wanting the total story on the young man.
Jethro had thought it a passing fancy but he should have known better. She would go to the basketball games because she knew Tony would be there to watch Tim McGee. When she heard he was leaving for the Army, Cali was almost inconsolable. That's when she found out Mr. DiNozzo wanted someone for the restaurant. When Gibbs found out she had a job, he was pleased with her initiative. When he found out where it was, he was secretly impressed with her determination. She had talked about the handsome young soldier for a month after he had come home between basic training and his deployment. Then Cali found out she loved the restaurant and the business and everything about it. Jethro couldn't deny that Cali had made the older DiNozzo's last few years a little bit fuller in the absence of his son. He realized just how much Cali had come to mean when Antonio, Sr. told him about the will and the restaurant. Gibbs had first told DiNozzo he didn't think it was right but knew he couldn't deprive his daughter of something she truly loved. That she might love the son as well wasn't something Gibbs was prepared for.
He didn't know why it surprised him. Cali wasn't much different than her mother. Angela had been the same way about Gibbs. She had been five years younger and had harassed Jethro the minute he went to work in her father's butcher shop. He thought her a cute kid and then a nice looking girl and suddenly, the love of his life. Yes, destiny was doomed, it seemed, to repeat itself.
Back in the restaurant, Tony had kissed Cali a second time. But she broke it off this time saying, "You know, sometimes my dad picks me up after closing. I better go."
DiNozzo nodded. The last thing he needed was Sheriff Leroy Jethro Gibbs to catch him kissing his only daughter. He wouldn't have to worry about ghosts. He'd be one himself.
She took his hand that he had cut with the glass and kissed the palm, "Good night, Tonio." And Cali ran for the door.
