Chapter Twelve
You're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat
And in the end, dreams just scatter
and fall like rain
All We Are, Matt Nathanson, s5e2 Family
Tony sat tensely in the passenger seat of Gibbs' car, his arm in a sling pressed closely to his chest. At least he was able to move the fingers on his left hand again. They'd finally taken out the IV, but that also entailed the loss of intravenous pain medication. It meant his head was clearer, but he was already feeling a lot more pain. His shoulder throbbed constantly and struggling to get dressed had felt like torture. Even a small movement sent a wave of agony along his collarbone. The incision on his chest where they'd had to cut into him to remove the bullet was healing, but it was sore and itched like the devil.
He knew Abby would've reported right back to Gibbs that Jeanne had visited him, despite the fact he'd told her very plainly that he was an adult, and she couldn't tell him who he was and wasn't allowed to see. He'd made her cry – something that was unforgivable in Gibbs' book, so he decided it would be better to get it over with now rather than wait. At least it would spare him the monosyllabic grunting.
Maybe.
"I had a visitor last night," he said, pretending that Abby would've respected his boundaries. He knew she was only trying to help and was worried about him getting hurt, but he wasn't a child and refused to be treated like one.
Gibbs looked over at him, glaring before returning his eyes to the road. Right. He knew Tony was aware that Abby had already spilled, and he wasn't in the mood to play along. Fine.
"I didn't think she'd come back," he said honestly, watching the scenery pass through the car window rather than looking directly at Gibbs.
"What did she want?" Gibbs asked, his voice gruff.
"I think she's trying to make sense of things, but some of it just doesn't make sense. She lost both part of her family life, and the life she thought she was building at the same time. It's a lot. I still can't get my head around it, and I was the one undercover," he said, sighing.
Gibbs scowled but didn't say anything – not that that was unusual.
Tony's leg began to twitch, and he kept glancing over at his boss. He knew what Gibbs was doing. He was far more comfortable with prolonged silences than Tony was, and he knew if he held out long enough, Tony would talk. Even though he was aware of what Gibbs was doing, it didn't help. Tony hated the quiet, and he caved first, as Gibbs knew he would.
"We were together for nearly a year. There's still a connection there, even if it's only hanging on by a thread," he said.
"I know that, and that's what concerns me. You told me you couldn't live a lie. What's changed?" Gibbs asked.
"What if it's not a lie anymore?" he asked, voicing the question that had been tickling his mind all night. He'd tossed and turned, even under the medication, going over everything they talked about. Was there a way forward from here?
"You sure about that? She still accused you of murder," Gibbs said.
"And she apologized for it. Her head was as messed up as mine was, and she certainly had more of a right than me to be upset," Tony said, irritated. He wasn't ready to defend what Jeanne had done. As a Federal agent and former cop, he knew what would've happened to him in prison. It was worse than a death sentence. Still, he wasn't ready to condemn her for it, either. How could he expect her to forgive him for his deception if he couldn't do the same?
As usual, Gibbs seemed to know what he was thinking. "That mean you're going to see her again?"
Tony still wouldn't look at him. "I don't know," he said, clutching the card with her phone number that rested in his pocket. He'd thought about little else since she'd given it to him, and the battered card was evidence of his nagging thoughts. He really didn't know what he should do – wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He couldn't help but fear he'd revealed too much. A combination of the pain medication and being used to sharing his real thoughts with her undercover, he'd forgotten to use any filters. This was unchartered territory for him. What was better for both of them?
"I find it difficult to trust her," Gibbs said.
"You don't have to trust her, but I thought you trusted me," Tony said, anger flaring. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he should at least have the right to figure it out without this barrage of disapproval.
Gibbs paused, but it wasn't in his nature to retreat when he sensed weakness. "I do – enough to know she's a weak spot."
"I'm the bad guy here, not her," Tony said.
"No, you're not. Look, you need someone to blame – try her father or the Director. You were the tool," Gibbs said, reaching over to gently lay a hand on Tony's injured shoulder.
He was trying to show – in his own awkward way – that he was on Tony's side, and Tony did know it. He'd kept his word after Tony's mini-breakdown that night after Jeanne's accusation, and he'd even been supportive in the office with the two junior agents, something that had visibly startled both of them. Still, he really didn't do backing off well.
"Boss, I don't know what I'm going to do about it, but you're going to have to let me figure it out and accept my decision," Tony said.
"I don't have to accept anything," Gibbs said, obstinate as ever.
Tony sighed. "No, I suppose you don't. But I'm still going to decide for myself."
"And I'm still going to argue about it. I tell my people when they're making a mistake," he said.
This was too much, particularly after what had happened at the Marriott Marquis. "Do you? Do you really? Do you do that for all your people across the board?" Tony asked hotly, his own anger and frustration igniting a trail of fire down into his belly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Gibbs asked, scowling.
"Ziva disobeyed a direct order – on the job – with people's lives at stake. Have you confronted her about it yet? Did you take any action?" Tony asked, unwilling to let it go this time. If Gibbs was going to question his judgement, then all was fair game.
"We're not talking about Ziva; we're talking about you and your blind spot concerning that woman," Gibbs said, his voice low and dangerous. He hated being questioned about how he managed his team. He hated being questioned about anything to do with Ziva.
"I'm not the only one with a blind spot, Gibbs," Tony said, unwilling to back down despite knowing how furious he was making the other man. On some level, he was aware of the fact they were alone in the car, and Tony was at a distinct disadvantage.
But it needed to be said.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I expect the same high standards from everyone on my team," Gibbs shouted.
"Okay, then – same situation, same outcome – only it was me or McGee who disobeyed your direct order. Not only disobeyed but specifically did exactly what you told us not to do. Would you ignore it then?" Tony asked, knowing full well that both he and McGee would've been head slapped into a coma – and more than likely lost their jobs.
And he could see that Gibbs knew it, too, even if he wasn't ready – or willing – to admit it. Of course, as expected, he attacked rather than conceded.
"You need to stay away from Jeanne Benoit," Gibbs said, seething.
"And if I don't?" Tony challenged.
Gibbs sighed, visibly struggling to control his temper. His words stunned Tony, however.
"Then you make having your six a hell of a lot more difficult."
Silence filled the inside of the car, thick and heavy and echoing with the angry words both had spoken. Gibbs pulled into the parking garage of Tony's apartment smoothly, sliding into an open spot, and turning off the engine.
Tony knew he'd made his point about Ziva. Gibbs would need time to mull it over while working on his boat, but he wasn't sure if anything would come of it. Gibbs had more of a blind spot when it came to the Mossad officer than Tony had ever seen from him before. As for Jeanne, he also knew Gibbs wasn't out to get him, but this wasn't work-related. It was his personal life, and although he loved having the support of friends, the ultimate decision would be his.
"Look Boss, I know you're watching out for me, and I know you're on my side. You have been since that night in my apartment, and it means a lot. More than you'll ever know because no one ever has before. But… I need to figure this out. Get my own head on straight before I know which way I'm going to move," he said, meeting Gibbs' eyes.
Gibbs didn't look happy, but he nodded. "I just hope you really do get it on straight," he said, getting out of the car and lifting Tony's bag.
"Me, too," Tony said, hoping that both of them were able to do that.
/* /* /* /*
Gibbs ran his hands up and down the stern of his boat, sanding with the grain of the wood but with perhaps more vigor than necessary. He had to get his pent-up frustration out somehow. Woodworking always relaxed him, relieved some of the tension built up over the day. Tonight, he was struggling to make it work, however.
His mind kept running over the discussion he'd had with DiNozzo that morning when he'd brought him home from the hospital. He really wasn't sure if his agent was capable of taking care of himself one-handed, but DiNozzo was determined that he could. He suspected the younger man had removed the sling as soon as he'd left him, but the doctors had insisted that the amount of pain that action would bring would make even the stubborn DiNozzo realize he still needed the support. Sometimes, allowing him to fail was the only way his mulish second learned.
Gibbs had gone back to the office after dropping Tony off, and he hadn't received a call begging for help. Not that he expected he would. DiNozzo would never admit anything that could be seen as a weakness. He'd never let the others see anything they could use against him, either. Tony made a great show of being close to everyone, but he didn't really let people get close enough to see the real him. He'd let Jeanne Benoit in though, and Gibbs wasn't really sure how to feel about that.
DiNozzo was an adult, and it wasn't like Gibbs, as his boss, had any say in who he chose to date. He knew that, but it didn't change the fact he felt protective of the younger man. DiNozzo didn't have family of his own that watched his back, and Gibbs felt as if they'd come together as two lone soldiers to fill that role. DiNozzo had pulled him out of a submerged vehicle not that long ago, and that wasn't something he'd soon forget. His Second in Command had filled a void in his life, and he definitely didn't want to let go. He'd lost one family already – he didn't want to lose another, and he knew Jeanne had the power to do a hell of a lot of damage. This situation was a lot more complicated than just a serious girlfriend.
It wasn't like when his gut warned him something bad was about to happen. It was more a nagging worry that something could, and he wasn't sure how hard to push. DiNozzo was his own person, and he'd been on his own for probably a lot longer than he should've been. He had every right to make his own choices – his own mistakes, even – but Gibbs still didn't want to see him hurt again.
It was all rather new – or at least reawakened feelings in him.
He automatically wasn't ever going to like anyone who had his second lying to him. They couldn't function as a team that way. The trust in the other to have their backs would deteriorate, and he wasn't about to let that happen. He still hadn't forgiven Jenny for the same thing, and he knew her. He didn't trust Jeanne Benoit, and he didn't think Tony should, either.
He wasn't alone in his concern. Abby, who had a special soft spot for Tony, was worried, too. His mind drifted back to earlier that day when Abby had come up to the bullpen to ask if Jeanne had been there when he'd picked DiNozzo up that morning.
"Why would she be at the hospital? She does not work there. She has no military background," Ziva said sharply, her finely-tuned ears picking up on his hushed conversation with Abby at once.
"Actually Ziva, the medical staff at Bethesda aren't all military," McGee said, his impulse to have the facts correct ever present.
"That is not the point, McGee," Ziva said tersely.
"She was there when I visited him the night before," Abby said, not helping. Ziva was like a dog with a bone, and Gibbs didn't want to discuss this with any of them before he'd had the chance to wrap his own head around it.
"This has nothing to do with those reports you're supposed to be finishing," he barked. "Are they done yet?"
McGee immediately went back to typing, but Ziva persisted, raising Gibbs hackles even further after Tony's earlier accusations.
"Why does he continue to seek out this woman? It makes no sense – not that Tony ever uses common sense. It did not go well when he fell in love undercover, no? Why would he persist with this embarrassment? She will never forgive him for those lies," she said.
"Officer David, did I not just tell you do finish your report?" Gibbs asked, glaring at her.
She met his gaze with wounded eyes over the use of her full title. He typically called her by her surname, and she immediately noticed the difference. He'd usually cut her some slack when she looked at him that way. His mind would conjure images of his own lost little girl and how lost Ziva had seemed after being forced to kill her own brother. This time, maybe because of Tony's accusation of playing favorites, he saw that look as manipulative, and he wasn't having it.
DiNozzo was right that he'd been treating Ziva with kid gloves and taking out his frustration on McGee and Tony. The conversation in the car had him analyzing various cases with the team, and with DiNozzo's accusations playing in his head, he didn't like what he saw. He didn't like feeling culpable, and he liked it even less being called out on his mistakes. DiNozzo had always been the one unafraid to point out when he had his head up his ass, and he both appreciated him for it but also resented it.
Gibbs sent Abby back to her lab and went for coffee, needing an escape from the stifling atmosphere at the office. He was going to have to address the insubordination, and Ziva would have to face some consequences. He hadn't quite decided what that would be. While headslaps worked for Tony and McGee, Gibbs' own moral code went against slapping a woman. It had been the same with Kate, although he'd managed to find other ways to get her back on track. Kate hadn't liked having her judgement questioned, but pointing out a previous error in judgement on a similar matter was usually enough to get her to re-evaluate.
Ziva was a tougher case – not the least of which was the protection Jenny offered the Mossad officer. The Director had stepped in when he didn't want to accept Ziva's presence on his team at the beginning. Hell, she'd been the one to arrange it, and he knew Jenny was also a source of intel for Ziva behind the scenes. He'd made it clear to the Mossad liaison that his word was law on the team, but he'd always known if push came to shove, he wouldn't necessarily have the Director's support. He supposed it was time to find out.
Ziva's background and training were all very vague, and he was aware Ziva liked it that way. Still, she didn't have any actual investigative experience when she'd joined the team, and if she was going to be the top-notch investigator that he knew she was capable of being, she was going to have to learn to follow the rules.
And follow orders.
Funny how she lauded her vast experience with Mossad but had such a difficult time with accepting the chain of command. Certainly, Mossad was run with a hierarchy, as well. There was going to have to be some consequences for disobeying a direct order. She wasn't going to like it, but it was necessary if he was going to reassert his high standards across the board. He knew Ziva considered her Mossad training above anything NCIS could teach her, but that wasn't the case. Investigation is what NCIS is all about, and she needed to be held to the same standards – and the same reprimands – as DiNozzo and McGee. And that started with him.
He needed to reverse course, since it was down to him that they were off course to begin with.
So, here he was, working on his boat, several glasses of Bourbon already consumed and unable to squash the worry that Tony being on disability meant too much time alone. Too much time to look for other outlets. At least Gibbs could work on getting the junior agents in line while DiNozzo recuperated.
The soft tread of footsteps on the stairs alerted him he had a visitor before he turned around. Ducky, who kept late hours himself, was just descending the last few steps, looking remarkably chipper for the lateness of the hour.
"What brings you by at this late hour, Duck?" he asked, pouring the older man a splash of his bourbon. These late-night visits were the only time Ducky didn't request his typical cup of tea.
"Good evening, Jethro. I've just finished an autopsy for Special Agent Balboa's team, and I thought I'd check in with you to find out how it went with Anthony," Ducky said, seating himself on the work bench and taking the drink with a nod. "How is he?"
"He seemed okay. His arm is still immobilized, but all his vitals have stabilized, so they sprang him. I think they might've just let him go because they were sick of his whining," Gibbs said, chuckling. The last couple of days it was all he could do to keep his SFA from simply signing out AMA. He'd had to threaten extended desk duty to keep him there.
"That's good. I assumed I would've heard if there had been a change in plans. Is he here? Is he staying with you?" Ducky asked.
"No. He insisted on going back to his apartment," Gibbs replied, putting down his sandpaper and taking a seat on the stool next to Ducky.
"How's he managing with only the one arm? I can't imagine how quickly he'll tire of this latest disability," Ducky said, voicing the thoughts that had been nagging at Gibbs' mind all day.
"Stubbornly," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, well, that's not unexpected given how headstrong our young man is," Ducky said, chuckling. "What's that hesitancy I hear in your voice? Are you concerned he won't reach out if assistance is required?"
Ducky was one of his oldest friends, and he'd always been very good at getting to the heart of the matter, despite his need for an abundance of words. He supposed that might be why they got on so well – Ducky did all the talking.
He hesitated a moment, not even sure if he should bring this up, never mind what to say. "I'm positive he won't reach out. He'll never admit weakness, but I'm not worried about that because I can keep an eye on how he's managing physically. Jeanne Benoit is back in the picture," he said carefully.
"Ah, well, I can't say that's all that surprising. You think she means trouble, however?" Ducky asked astutely. He could always read the words Gibbs didn't voice.
"I think so. As you know, it's complicated," Gibbs said, reaching for another shot of Bourbon.
"Usually is with women," Ducky replied, his eyes twinkling. Gibbs sometimes forgot what a ladies' man the elderly ME had been in his day.
Gibbs snorted. "He cares about her. I'm just not sure all her intentions are good. There's a lot of baggage there."
"Not everyone meets their soulmate at eighteen, Jethro, but that doesn't make the connection any less real. If Anthony's smitten, pitting yourself against her is only going to alienate you from him. And he needs you, particularly if he's not at full strength," Ducky said, his voice low and calm – soothing.
"Yeah, I know," Gibbs said, sighing.
"You like to take the bull by the horns and shake until something gives. Sometimes, a slower, gentler approach is necessary. He's out on disability for the foreseeable future, so he doesn't need a boss. He needs a friend. His family," Ducky said.
"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs replied, one side of his mouth curling in a smile.
"I do hope it was helpful," Ducky replied.
"It was. You just told me what I already knew – but sometimes I need a kick in the pants," Gibbs said, grinning. Perhaps he really would be able to sleep now.
"Don't we all at times?" Ducky replied, chuckling. He raised his glass, and they toasted the end of a long day.
Author's Note:
I'd like to express a huge thanks to Unilocular, who took on the job of beta-ing this story for me. She's helping with my characterization of McGee and reminding me to cut Gibbs' words – both aides I could really use, and her comments always make me grin.
So, don't forget Melinda's Number One Rule – please give me some feedback!