Chapter Two

Existing vs. Living

I wasted, wasted love for you
Traded out for something new
Well, it's hard to change the way you lose
If you think you've never won

All We Are, Matt Nathanson, S5e2 Family

As Gibbs walked into NCIS headquarters bright and early in the morning, he spotted DiNozzo ahead of him at the security desk. His SFA was obviously regaling the guards with a story that Gibbs guessed involved basketball from the pantomime moves DiNozzo was making. Both guards were animated and engaged with the story his agent was telling, and Gibbs was again struck by how many people at NCIS seemed to consider DiNozzo a friend. For someone who habitually kept people at a distance, Gibbs was intrigued by how easily people accepted DiNozzo's friendship yet still rarely knew anything real about him.

It had been a month since the FBI had interrogated his team over the death of Rene Benoit. All but DiNozzo seemed to have forgotten it ever happened. The Director certainly behaved as if she'd been completely cleared. She was almost smug with her satisfaction on how the investigation had turned out. McGee and Ziva had teasingly tried to give DiNozzo a hard time about being accused of murder again after he returned to work, but Gibbs had shut that down instantly. The junior agents had been rather startled by his staunch defense, but after a couple days, the jibes had ceased. He'd stood by DiNozzo, as he'd promised he would, and he could read the gratefulness in his second's eyes.

Tony had easily pulled one of his many masks into place, fooling all those around him that he was living the high life, back onto the dating scene with a new conquest every weekend. Gibbs saw through the ruse. He'd always known the tales of Tony's exploits were often exaggerated. No one who worked as many hours as he did – and watched as many movies – would have the time for the active social life he portrayed. Still, Gibbs had never called him out. If others were fooled by his tall tales, so be it.

DiNozzo had always had trust and commitment issues, but since the whole undercover fiasco, he'd grown even more guarded. Gibbs was growing concerned by DiNozzo's lack of any kind of a social life – other than work and sports. His agent was a people person, and he usually thrived with social contact.

He knew that Tony still played in the NCIS softball league which had started up again once the weather turned warmer. Chris Pacci had recruited him when DiNozzo first joined NCIS, and his natural athletic abilities made him a desirable asset to the team. He also still played pick-up basketball games with a few agents he'd befriended over the years. Between those two commitments and the cases they'd worked, DiNozzo had been plenty busy. Still, Gibbs couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he'd been existing, but not really living.

Abby, in her own unique way, had innately known DiNozzo was in pain, and Gibbs was aware the two had been spending a lot of their limited free time together. He could always tell if it was Abby on the other end of the line when DiNozzo's phone rang because his posture would relax noticeably. Gibbs and Abby had somehow become allies in the keep DiNozzo occupied club.

Cowboy steaks and a few beers had become a routine occurrence whenever a case was closed, and Gibbs found himself looking forward to them. DiNozzo had been very careful to limit his drinking during these social occasions, and Gibbs was aware his agent was embarrassed that he'd revealed too much that night. Gibbs tried to show he respected the younger man's boundaries by not bringing it up. It was how Gibbs had always dealt with emotional issues, as well. If DiNozzo wanted to talk, he'd talk. The younger man had historically shut down on those rare occasions he got drunk enough to mention his father. Gibbs could honor that. He certainly didn't want to talk about his own family problems, either.

"So, I'm ready to end this, right," DiNozzo was saying to the guards.

"I hope so, since you should've been at your desk two minutes ago," Gibbs said, coming up behind them.

Both guards' eyes rounded, looking like deer caught in the headlights, but DiNozzo just turned around casually and smiled. "Oh, hi Boss."

"Morning," Gibbs said, nodding at the guards before turning to his SFA, "Did you finish your Incident Report from Friday?"

They'd wrapped up their case late Friday afternoon, and Tony had wanted to make it to his softball game. Feeling generous, Gibbs had let him leave before his report was finished on the condition it would be done before Monday morning. Both Ziva and McGee had grumbled a bit at the leeway, but Gibbs knew DiNozzo needed the distraction more than the other two.

"I did. I emailed it to you after the game on Friday night," DiNozzo said indignantly. Then he deflated, "But you don't look at email here, never mind at home. I'll print it when we get upstairs."

Gibbs didn't respond but followed DiNozzo to the elevator. "How was the game?" he asked once they'd hit the button for the third floor.

"Aced it. We're supposed to play against Homeland Security tomorrow night, but they're not that good. We played the Feebs on Friday – that was a delicious win, I made this brilliant, diving catch on what could've been a homerun by Sacks. I love pissing that guy off," DiNozzo said, highly animated.

Gibbs grinned, "You should've told me you were playing the Feebs. I'd have liked to watch that one."

DiNozzo looked startled. "You would've watched?" he asked, sounding as if Gibbs just said he'd like to walk on the moon.

"Well, yeah. I always like to see the Hoover boys get their asses kicked. You know that."

DiNozzo blinked a few times before a slow smile – one of his rare real smiles – lit up his eyes. "I'll let you know the next time we play them, then," he said.

"Sounds good. Maybe I'll ask Fornell to come along. We can make a wager – but you better not make me lose any money to him," Gibbs said in mock-warning.

"Wouldn't think of it, Boss," DiNozzo said, beaming.

As the elevator doors opened, one of the women who worked in the Armory stopped DiNozzo to ask a question, so Gibbs entered the bullpen a few steps ahead of them. McGee and Ziva were already at their desks working on their computers.

"Morning, Boss," McGee said at once.

Ziva looked up. "Yes, Good Morning, Gibbs. It is another beautiful day – perhaps that is why Tony is late."

"He's here," Gibbs said, walking past her to his own desk, somewhat perturbed at how quickly she was ready to throw DiNozzo under the bus. She must've been really annoyed that Gibbs allowed him to leave early on Friday.

"He is? Where? I haven't seen him," McGee said, looking over at DiNozzo's empty desk as if to confirm he wasn't there.

"His bag is not at his desk, and his computer is not powered high," Ziva said.

"Powered up, Ziva," McGee said automatically.

"Good morning, team," DiNozzo said, coming around the corner of the bullpen at that moment and tossing his bag behind his chair. "I hope you all had lovely weekends – although I'm sure no one's could've been as spectacular as mine."

"Let me guess, your date went well?"

"Where have you been?"

McGee and Ziva asked at the same time.

DiNozzo tilted his head and smirked knowingly, "Aww, I'm touched by how much you two miss me when I'm not here."

McGee rolled his eyes and returned to his computer, but Ziva persisted with her questions. "You did not say where you have been that Gibbs had seen you, but we had not," she said, indicating herself and McGee.

Tony powered up his own computer. "Your powers of observation are clearly superior, Officer David," he said, flashing a smile that involved a lot of teeth. He pecked a few strokes on his keyboard, still grinning.

The printer beside his desk spit out a few sheets, and Tony got up to retrieve them. Ziva frowned at his evasiveness but apparently gave it up as a lost cause. Gibbs smirked. That round went to DiNozzo.

Grabbing his Mighty Mouse stapler and fastening his report securely, Tony brought it over and placed in on Gibbs' desk. "As requested, fearless leader."

"Wasn't a request," Gibbs said, picking up the report. Before he had a chance to read more than the first sentence, his desk phone rang. He saw all three members of his team look up, watching to see if they had a new case. "Yeah, Gibbs," he answered.

It wasn't Dispatch calling but Cynthia, Director Shepherd's secretary who asked him to come up and meet with the Director. Gibbs had no idea what Jenny wanted now, but he hoped it would be something to keep them busy so he wouldn't have to listen to his agents sniping at one another all day. He hung up the phone, meeting DiNozzo's eye and giving a slight nod upward to alert him where he was headed, then left the bullpen without a word.

He could hear McGee's question as he climbed the stairs.

"Wonder what that was all about?"

"Hopefully not another Human Resources lecture on political correctness, or something as equally riveting," DiNozzo answered back.

Gibbs snorted as he reached the top of the stairs. Human Resources had been going out of their way recently to waste everyone's time. He strode past Cynthia and entered the Director's office before the receptionist had time to acknowledge him, never mind announce him.

Jenny sighed when she looked up as he burst through her door. "You know, Jethro, Cynthia is there for a reason."

"Yeah, she called me to come up," Gibbs replied, unapologetically. "What's going on?"

Jenny reclined back in her chair, studying him momentarily like Abby would one of her specimens under the microscope. She'd only recently returned from her leave after the Benoit investigation, and Gibbs suspected she was tickled to kick Assistant Director Vance out of her office. Although their relationship had been strained recently, Gibbs couldn't help but notice the way her hair curled up at the ends. He liked that she was growing it out again.

"I received a request from SecNav," she began, drumming her fingers on her desk.

"A request?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow upwards.

Jenny's lip twitched but she fought back the smile. "Fine. He phrased it as if it were a request, but naturally we're going to comply."

"Comply with what, and what does it have to do with me?" he asked, instinctively knowing he either wasn't going to like it, or she was up to something. She wouldn't have called him up here to talk otherwise.

"Bethesda Naval Hospital is holding a conference on Infectious Diseases in Third World Countries beginning tomorrow at the Marriot Marquis downtown. About a hundred medical personnel along with several diplomats and high-ranking Naval officials are going to be there for the opening remarks," Jenny said, watching him closely.

"And this affects us how?" he asked.

"The Department of Homeland Security has reported a terror threat. NCIS has been asked to be present at the hotel, both to do a security sweep beforehand and to keep an eye on things once the ceremony has begun tomorrow evening," Jenny said. "There's also to be a dinner before the conference starts Wednesday morning."

"And you've selected the MCRT for this assignment?" Gibbs asked. "How significant a terror threat are we talking?"

"I don't know. Apparently, that information is classified," she said, scowling. "It doesn't matter, though. Even if the threat is considered highly unlikely, SecNav personally asked us to cooperate, and that means we will."

Gibbs could tell she wasn't any happier than he was that they didn't have all the facts, but he also knew if SecNav wanted it, he was going to get it. "All right. Let's hope it's not just Homeland Security's way of keeping DiNozzo away from their softball game tomorrow night. What happens if a case comes in today?" he asked.

"I'll put Balboa's team on call, and I'll have the layout of the conference rooms forwarded to McGee's computer so your team can familiarize yourselves with them," she said, pressing her lips together. "I want a thorough and meticulous job on this one. SecNev will be taking particular interest, and I want everything done according to our very high standards."

"McGee's computer, eh?" he asked with a smirk, knowing it was already against procedure to send the plans to anyone but the team lead.

Jenny puckered her lips, fighting a smile. "Let's both agree that it'll get done much faster than if I sent it to you directly, and you had to ask McGee to get access. You're a top-notch team leader, Jethro, but everyone is aware that technology isn't your strong suit."

"Fair enough," he said, images of their time together in Paris flashing through his mind as they always did when she used that teasing tone. Abruptly, the image of Tony's car blowing sky-high intruded, and he remembered why their relationship had become strained in the first place.

She used people and placed her own personal agenda ahead of all else. She'd end up getting someone killed if she kept on like that, and he was determined to keep his team out of the line of fire. He forced his walls back up, and he could see the disappointment flooding her eyes as she watched him do it.

"Let me know if you hear anything else," he said as he walked out of her office without another word.

/* /* /* /*

Tony sat with Abby, McGee, and Ziva at McNally's pub sharing burgers and beers after work. They'd invited Gibbs and Ducky along, but both had declined. Once the food was mostly gone – they'd missed lunch so they were starving – they returned to conversation.

"Why did Gibbs not want to join us? He has to eat, too, yes?" Ziva asked, delicately wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

"He hardly ever joins in on social stuff, though. Even when he does, he just stands in the corner with his arms folded and looking all disapproving even though inside he's enjoying being with us. He really should come out with us more. It'd do him some good. It can't be healthy holed up in that basement all the time with nothing but wood for company," Abby said, putting more ketchup on her few remaining fries.

Tony sniggered, spraying his beer everywhere. Even McGee's face colored and tears appeared in the corners of his eyes as he tried to cover his smirk.

"Oh, you mean the boat," Tony said, causing Abby to grin as she rolled her napkin into a ball and tossed it his head. He easily ducked the cloth missile, so she leaned over to punch him on the shoulder instead.

"I can't believe I walked right into that," she grumbled, shaking her head with a reluctant grin.

"I'm surprised he wasn't right behind you when you said it," McGee said, laughing.

"He is remarkably adept at doing that. I still think he should have come out with us. We are a team, after all," Ziva said.

"He prefers steak over burgers anyway. Think they'll let us eat at this shindig they're having tomorrow night?" Tony asked. "Fancy hotel usually means good chow."

"How can you still be thinking about food when we've just finished eating? We are going to be working, not attending the conference, Tony," Ziva said, rolling her eyes.

"You just said Gibbs has to eat – well, we do, too, and we're going to be there all day," Tony said.

"You might find time to eat, Tony. You'll just be keeping an eye on the crowd. I'll be up monitoring all the surveillance equipment," McGee said.

"So, you'll just be sitting in a chair in a room by yourself – and that stops you from eating, how?" Tony asked, amused. Sometimes the Probie took himself entirely too seriously.

"It's highly specialized and technical equipment that needs a practiced hand. It's well above your pay grade," McGee said, raising his chin.

"If it's above my pay grade, it's certainly above yours, McSnooty. What are we expecting to find, anyway? Who wants to terrorize a bunch of doctors doing good work in disease-ridden areas?" he asked.

"I know, right? It's preposterous. If we are dealing with terrorists, they're really bad people," Abby said, slurping on a CafPow.

"As opposed to all the other terrorists we deal with?" Tony asked, smirking.

"Oh… right," Abby said, chagrined. "I suppose the majority of the criminals we deal with are bad, but going after doctors doing humanitarian work, that's just low. It's almost as bad as those who hurt animals. There's a special place in hell for those people."

"You will have to be on guard this time, Tony, yes? The last time you had a case involving a doctor you displayed a series error in judgement," Ziva said, narrowing her eyes.

Tony's insides went cold as he felt a block of ice drop into his belly, but he managed to keep his face impassive. As he opened his mouth to give a witty comeback, a seething Abby got there first.

"Oh, as opposed to you? I'm sure Gibbs has already given you the standard warning that you're not allowed to kill anyone without actual provocation," she said, glaring across the table.

Ziva's eyes widened in surprise at the hostility coming from the usually upbeat and perky Goth. Her mouth worked soundlessly as she scrambled for a response.

Tony loved Abby for her unwavering loyalty, but he didn't need protection from the likes of Ziva David, and he certainly couldn't allow her to think she'd hit her mark. He leaned casually back on his chair.

"It's all right, Abs. We're the premiere MCRT of NCIS after all. I'm sure we can get through one conference without any of the doctors falling in love with me, or Ziva assassinating any of the diplomats," he said mockingly. He didn't know what the bug Ziva had up her ass about Jeanne, but she never failed to drop a dig when the opportunity presented itself – or maybe he was just overly sensitive to it. Every time he thought he was beginning to get his walls back in place, Ziva came along and took a sledgehammer to them.

Although right now, she looked highly offended rather than the aggressor.

"It's not them falling for you that's the concern, it's the other way around," McGee said, chuckling.

Oh, so they were on the tag-team route again. Lovely. No matter, he was up to the challenge. "Well, let's be real. If it's between the two of us, McLovelorn, it's certainly me they're going to fall for rather than you," Tony said, hiding the twitch in his jaw by guzzling the rest of his beer. "On that note, it's a school night, kids, and we all need a good night's sleep if we're going to be on our game in the morning."

He stood up and dropped some cash on the table to cover his share of their meal. He needed some space. He wasn't about to let them get into his head right before a security detail. Before he could make his escape, Abby grabbed his arm and latched on tightly like only Abby could.

"Tony, could you give me a lift? I drove over here with McGee, but you're actually closer to my apartment," Abby said.

"Yeah, sure," he said absently, his mind already going over the layout of the hotel they'd been given earlier that day.

"But Abby – I was going to drive you back to NCIS to get your car," McGee said, looking disappointed.

"I know, but those beers went right to my head, and I really need to lie down. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Don't forget – I'll be listening in on your headsets," Abby said, dragging Tony away before McGee had a chance to respond.

Once they were outside in the parking lot, Tony glanced over at Abby with a wry smirk. "You weren't drinking beer, Abby. You've had nothing but CafPows."

"I know, but you weren't leaving me alone with those two when they're being catty. I don't like catty, and I'm not going to let them draw me in again. It's like being back in high school where those awful cliques would target one person. I didn't put up with it then, so I'm not putting up with it now," she said, sticking her chin in the air and climbing into the passenger seat of his recently purchased Chevelle. He had to replace his destroyed Mustang, but it took him awhile to be able to bear it, and he was still getting used to his new ride.

"I love you for trying, Abs, but I don't need a Knight in Shining Armor, no matter how delightful a Knight you are. I can fight my own battles," he said, not wanting her to think he was ever out-gunned by the junior agents. "Where am I taking you – home or back to NCIS?"

"Can you just drop me back at the Navy Yard? You're all going directly to the hotel tomorrow, so I'll need my ride," she said.

"Yeah, sure," he said, stepping on the clutch and putting the car into gear to begin their drive.

"Are you all right, Tony?" she asked quietly, resting her hand over his on the stick shift after they'd driven a few minutes in deafening silence.

"Sure, I'm fine. Why?" he asked, doing his best to sound cheerful but suspecting he was failing miserably. She was always harder to fool than the others.

"Sometimes Ziva's teasing gets too personal, and I'm not sure she realizes it. Even McGee follows her lead, and I know he knows better," she said, not looking at him but instead staring out at the street ahead as he drove. She kept her hand on top of his, however.

"Hey, I certainly do my share of teasing – probably more than my share – I can take it," he said.

"Yeah, you do, but I always think of you as more juvenile than meanspirited. That comment about the doctors crossed a line," Abby said, her mouth pinched.

"Are you calling me immature?" he asked in mock outrage.

"Yes, and you know you are. I think you do it on purpose, but that doesn't mean it doesn't get to you sometimes," she replied.

"Don't worry about it, Abs. I can handle myself," Tony said, touched.

"I know that, but I've also had my share of broken hearts, so I know it's much harder to keep up that shield when you're hurting. Letting me be your Knight once in a while doesn't mean you're any less of a warrior," she said, her eyes shining.

He was always amazed by the way Abby could feel so deeply and express emotion for the people around her. He still hadn't worked out a way to handle his own emotions, never mind those of anyone else. Even now, her sympathy was distressing him, so he turned to deflection to relieve his discomfort.

"You are the best-dressed Knight this side of the Crusades. Is that a new collar, by the way? I don't remember seeing that one before. The spikes look downright dangerous."

If possible, Abby looked even sadder than she had been. She sighed but pet his hand on the shifter comfortingly.

"Everybody hurts sometimes, Tony," she said quietly.

"I don't have any right to be hurt. I'm the one who did the hurting, remember? I wasn't the one who went in with any misconceptions," he said, unable to completely control the heat behind his words. He wished she would just let it go. He didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't want to talk about this anymore.

He'd had his share of betrayals in his life. Between his father, Wendy, his old partner Danny, and Gibbs' abrupt departure to Mexico, he had more than a few scorch marks. With Jeanne however, he was the one who'd betrayed her, and he was still struggling to reconcile his feelings about being the betrayer. He didn't know how, and he was incapable of putting it all into words.

Abby had always been one of the few who could read him well, however, and she remained quiet for the rest of the ride, never removing the warmth of her hand on top of his until he pulled into a parking spot next to her hearse.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "There are no rules on heartbreak, Tony," she whispered before slipping out of the car and shutting the door before he had the chance to reply.

It didn't matter. He had no words, anyway.

Author's Note

Melinda's NCIS Rule Number One: Always leave a comment – it keeps the author motivated. Thanks very much to all who take the time to share your thoughts.