Disclaimer : I own nothing, but the typos. Oh and the OCs.
Warnings : Rated T for language.
Author's Note : Thanks to everyone who read, favorited and followed so far. And thank you so much to everyone who's left a review. I appreciate the support that I've had on this story.
Enjoy.
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18 months later
Even though it's only nearing nine in the morning, Tony is already on his third cup of coffee and elbow-deep in finalizing last week's report. He switches out the last then for the correct than as per Tim's careful and hypervigilant—and not to mention, bitchy—notes before he hits the print button. While the printer whirrs away to itself, Tony rests his head on his hand as he stares out at the bullpen.
Toto, we aren't in the bullpen anymore. We're in the ThinkTank now.
And it's starting to feel a hell of a lot like home.
Three desks are pulled as far away from the cubicle walls a and clustered tightly together into a permanent campfire set-up. Here, the only thing he has to worry about is whether his team might trip on their way to their respective spaces. He doesn't care if one of them does because the set up allows ideas to flow freely and gives his team an amazing energy that crackles like electricity. His solve rate is the highest of any fledgling Special Agent in Charge and his team's morale is high, but the best part is that most nights he makes it home in time to have dinner with his dad and Tali.
After all those sleepless nights in the bullpen while on Gibbs' team, Tony didn't think it was possible to marry his professional and personal life.
He toys with the plain, white gold band he now wears on his right ring finger. The constant reminder of his life's two greatest loves: his work and his daughter.
Somehow, he did. Somehow, he figured out how to have it all.
Hazarding a small smile, Tony lets his gaze wander to the framed photos littered on his desk. Most are from that whirlwind trip he took through Europe with Tali before he returned to the agency. Even though she is far too young to remember it, the memory will always belong to him.
The images of her staring up in amazement at the Eiffel Tower and him pretending to throw her into the Seine should be his favorites, but they aren't. Instead, it's the simple one of her in a flower girl dress and him in a tux from Tim and Delilah's wedding last year. They're dancing together with her standing on his shoes. With the flowers in her dark curls and the white, tulle skirt, she is every bit the fulfillment of her dead mother's childhood dream.
He reaches out to run his fingers over the image of Tali's broad smile and crinkled eyes.
She looks more like her mother every day.
At least, Tony likes to think so. Ever since they parted ways in Tel Aviv, his memories of Ziva have slowly faded into nothing more than clips in an old movie reel. The scent of her shampoo. The feel of her hand cupping his cheek. The gentle sway of her hips when she would stride across the bullpen. The tone of her voice as she delivered her violent threats. The hellfire she passed on to their daughter.
He held onto a few pictures of Ziva before she left NCIS, scant David family heirlooms strong enough to survive the fire, her badge, pieces of her life. To many, they are seemingly meaningless things. To Tali, they are the only things she'll ever know of her mother.
When she is old enough to understand, he'll tell her their story.
He just hopes to have it figured out by then.
They worked on the same team. They flirted. They were together just once. He loved her.
Tony's eyes drag across the images of Tali again.
Actually, he thought he did. He had no idea what love really was until Tali came into his life.
He sets the photo back with the others.
Too much rumination for a Wednesday morning. Morose thoughts like these were once best done with a bottle of Scotch, an old black and white film, and a dark apartment. But ever since Tali showed up, personal nights no longer exist and she has brainwashed him into thinking Dora the Explorer and Doc MacStuffins are quality entertainment.
And I wouldn't change it for the world.
When the printer cuts out, Tony reaches for his report. He staples it together, then readies to drop it off with the director.
As if on cue, Tim wanders languidly into the ThinkTank with his backpack slung over his shoulder. His shirt is untucked, his pants wrinkled, and they look a hell of a lot like the clothes he wore yesterday. His eyes are unfocused as though he is lost in his own world. He holds a giant coffee cup in his hand, but Tony doubts he realizes that it's even there.
Tony smiles, reaches for normalcy. "You showed up just in time, McGrammarNazi. Did you show up to proofread my report one more time before I turn it in?"
Tim looks over, clearly not expecting Tony to be there. "Oh hey, Boss. I didn't think you'd be in so early."
"It's almost 9:30, Tim." Tony checks his watch. "Mariah and Levi are already at the scene. Cheating Marine got caught on the wrong end of his wife's M9."
Tim blinks. "We've got a case?"
Even though Tony nods, Tim continues to his desk. He sits down on auto-pilot and starts booting up his computer. Tony slips out from behind his own, nearly wiping out when he threads himself through the ThinkTank needle.
He looms over Tim's desk and rocks on his heels. "So how did that appointment go yesterday? You never called to let me know." When Tim doesn't reply, Tony tries a bit of humor: "And remember, I'm asking solely as your friend. Not as your boss who'll need to figure out who's going to put up with me while you're out on paternity leave."
"It worked." Tim looks up, shell-shocked. "We're pregnant."
"That's great news!" When Tim doesn't move, Tony presses: "It is great news, isn't it, Tim? You and Delilah have been saving up for IVF for a really long time."
Tim nods. "It's the best news we could've gotten. It worked perfectly. Everything went great. The embryo took and it…" he looks like he's about to be sick "….split."
"What does that mean?"
"Twins. Identical ones."
Tony gapes for a long moment. "Aren't you two lucky?"
Tim's distant smile turns terrified.
"That'll be easy peasy," Tony continues, flippantly.
"Yeah, easy peasy," Tim repeats.
"Aren't you excited?"
He nods. "I'm over the moon, but scared out of my mind. How can I feel both at the exact same time? The idea of one was great. But two? Holy cow."
Tony decides not to tell Tim about all the sleepless nights he had with just one three-year-old. He would probably need to buy stock in Starbucks with twins.
So he just slaps Tim's back. "You'll be great at being a dad, Tim. Just wait. If Tali can survive living with me so far, your kids will be fine with you and Delilah."
Tim half-smiles. "Thanks, Tony."
"What else am I here for?" Tony asks, shrugging. "Well, other than to make sure that you get your work done. Do you need some time before we head over?"
Blinking, Tim stares down at his desk like he isn't quite sure how he got there. That's when Tony notices the ultrasound picture in Tim's hands. The one with two distinct circles against a jet black background. They're labeled: Baby A and Baby B. Shapeless, faceless blobs that are terrifying enough to bring even the strongest man to his knees.
Tony points to Baby B. "That looks like an Anthony to me."
Tim tries his best to laugh.
After one long look at the picture, he tucks it into the photo of him and Delilah from their wedding. Despite the fear in his eyes, he can't help but grin at the sight of his growing family. Then he starts to gather his gear.
Tony starts to ask about the picture, but Tim beats him to the punch: "How was your night? Did you have another hot date?"
"We took apart Mr. Potato Head, rearranged his face, and then we made our own Play-Dough." He cracks a grin. "Just don't try to eat it because it tastes gross as Tali learned."
Tim laughs. "You'll have to teach me that recipe when the boys get here."
"Boys?" Tony tilts his head. "How do you already know what you're having?"
"The doctor tested the embryo before transfer. A little boy." Shaking his head, he glances at the picture again. This time, he grins broadly. "Two perfect, little boys."
"You'll have the time of your life. She is still the best thing that ever happened to me."
"I know. As soon as it sinks in, I know it will be. Just until then…"
"Holy shit?"
Tim laughs. "Let's try holy fucking shit."
"Well, I think the best thing to do is take your mind off of it." Tony heads back to his desk to gather his gear. "We've got work to do."
With a quick nod, Tim grabs his gear and joins Tony on the other end of the Think Tank. They walk side-by-side towards the elevator. As soon as they reach it, the doors slide open.
They find themselves face to face with Jethro Gibbs.
Tony meets his former boss' tired, haunted eyes. Somehow, Gibbs looks far older—more weary—than Tony remembers. His hair is still styled the same, his stance still unfaltering. But to someone who knows him as well as Tony, he is running himself into the ground while keeping up appearances.
"Hey Gibbs," Tim says quietly.
Gibbs barely acknowledges them. "McGee. DiNozzo."
Tony nods. "Boss."
"Haven't been your boss in a long time, DiNozzo," he replies.
When Tim throws a glance down the hallway, Tony nods his blessing. After a quick goodbye to Gibbs and an I'll have the car waiting, boss, Tim rabbits towards the stairs.
Gibbs and Tony remain staring at each other, neither one wanting to be the one to retreat first.
"Been a long time period," Tony says.
Gibbs starts to move around him.
"So after all those years, that's it?" Tony blurts out.
Gibbs' expression turns annoyed. "What do you expect from me, DiNozzo?"
Not sure himself, Tony shrugs. "How about a 'how the hell are ya, Tony?' Or 'congrats on your team, Tony.' Or maybe even, 'I miss working with you.'"
"Congrats on your team, DiNozzo," Gibbs says flatly. "Happy now?"
Tony glances over his shoulder towards the bullpen. Here, it is nothing more than a shadow of what he remembers it to be. Suddenly, he realizes that old saying about how you can never go home again. That nothing is ever the same after you jump out of the next and spread your own wings for the first time.
"Do you even mean that, Gibbs?" Tony asks.
When Gibbs doesn't say a word, Tony flicks his eyes back. They stare at each other, silently squaring off to see who will end the pissing match.
Tony is the first to fold. "Just once, Gibbs. I wish you would've been honest with me."
Gibbs stays silent long enough to make Tony roll his eyes.
"Fine, whatever," he growls. "I'll see you around."
He only makes it two steps before Gibbs says, "I was, Tony."
When he turns around to face his former boss, Tony's jaw tightens. But there is something in the way that Gibbs' stance flags like grass under a blazing summer sun. Gibbs draws his arms to his chest. Vulnerability was never part of Gibbs' repertoire and Tony barely recognizes it.
"You were what?" Tony asks.
"Honest with you."
Tony scoffs. "Yeah, right."
"You were the biggest pain in the ass," Gibbs says.
Shaking his head, Tony turns to leave.
"But you were also the best damned agent I ever worked with. I never knew why you stayed for as long as you did."
"Maybe because I enjoyed working for you." Tony makes a face at himself. "With you. Not to mention, I wanted to make you proud."
Gibbs smiles slightly. "You always did, but I shouldn't have had to tell you that."
"It would've been nice to hear. Just once."
"I was…" Gibbs shakes his head, closing the space between them. "I am proud of you, Tony. You do a great job with your team. You have a family. You did a helluva a lot better than I ever did."
Tears sting at Tony's eyes.
"You did damned good, kid. It's just what I expected of you and more." Gibbs claps his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Is that what you needed to hear?"
Tony half-smiles. "Yeah. Too bad it only took fourteen years."
Gibbs presses his lips together. "I'm sorry I never said it before."
"Did you forget about Rule Six?" Tony asks in mock horror.
Gibbs chuckles. "Rule Six B."
"What's that?"
"Don't be afraid to apologize when you've been an ass."
"That's DiNozzo Rule Fifteen, boss."
"Not your boss anymore, Tony." Gibbs squeezes Tony's shoulder. "You're the boss now."
When Gibbs takes his hand away, he gives Tony one long, appraising look. And it's in the moment that Tony recognizes the look in his former boss' eyes. It's the same one he wore when Tony first arrested him in Baltimore. And when Tony beat the plague. And when Tony would scrabble together random tidbits of information into a plausible theory to make an arrest.
He always was proud of me.
"Thanks Gibbs," Tony says.
Unable to believe that he was wrong, Tony starts into the elevator. He is just about there when Gibbs calls out, "Tony."
He turns back. "Yeah?"
"I do miss working with you." Regret lights up Gibbs' eyes. "Every damned day."
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Author's Note 2.0: And that's a wrap. Thanks for sticking with me. If you're following A Life Less Ordinary, I should have a new chapter up within a few weeks. I'm working on a few chapters now and trying to get them polished up so there will be some semi-regular updates at least for a little while.
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