Chapter Sixteen

After All… Tomorrow is Another Day

Tony wearily stepped out of his Physical Therapist's torture chamber and walked slowly to the bench in front of her office building with precise, measured steps. He had to sit a minute but didn't want to remain in the waiting area trying to avoid the staff's concerned gazes. He also didn't want them to see if he collapsed. His legs were shaking from the exertion – it was embarrassingly ridiculous.

The sun was blazing overhead, hinting at the coming warmth of summer. After such a long winter, he knew it was ungrateful, but he wished it was cooler. He'd had plenty of injuries over the course of his life – particularly when involved in sports – but the worst always came from the so-called healing. Visiting a physical therapist hurt more than getting shot in the first place.

His shoulder was killing him, and the pain radiated all the way down his arm – but he had managed some movement. It wasn't much, but at least it was a start. It was unfortunate that such a small accomplishment left him so thoroughly wiped out. He'd taken a cab to the appointment and would have to take another home once he collected himself. He'd told his therapist that his first goal was regaining the ability to drive. He needed his left arm for the steering wheel, and he simply didn't have that range of motion yet, never mind the ability to turn quickly should the need arise.

Being dependent was foreign to him, and it really sucked.

For the first time in his adult life, he wished he had an automatic transmission. He felt the urge to cross himself or something just for allowing that traitorous thought, but at least with an automatic he could've driven one-armed. He hadn't even had the Chevelle he'd bought to replace his blown-up Mustang all that long, but he missed driving. And he really missed his Mustang.

Moot point anyway, so he'd have to suffer through the indignity of begging rides or public transportation. There wasn't anyone he felt comfortable calling today, so he'd resorted to the cab. It had been almost two days since Gibbs' fiery interruption, and he hadn't spoken to either Gibbs or Jeanne since.

He'd slept badly that night and had spent all day yesterday dwelling on the angry confrontation. He and Gibbs had never come so close to trading blows, but he'd been beyond pissed off. The rage he usually kept bottled so well spilled over, and it was actually Gibbs who'd walked away. He was still having trouble wrapping his head around that. Gibbs had been completely out of line, but he knew better than to expect an apology. That wasn't how Gibbs rolled. Instead, he'd let it fester, growling and giving mostly the silent treatment along with a few cutting remarks.

Just as well Tony wasn't back in the office, then. He found holding a grudge tiresome, and he was always the one to let it go first. Gibbs would eventually move past it, as well rather than actually trying to talk about why he was so angry. Tony was used to that. He suspected finding Jeanne in his apartment had brought back shades of Tony's duplicity to Gibbs. It was the reason Tony had been so determined not to hide anything since the similarity made it all so uncomfortable.

He was really disappointed – and a little hurt – by his mentor's reaction, but he really should've learned by now not to expect anything more. He'd spent most of the day alternating between stewing about Gibbs and also stewing about Jeanne. He hadn't talked to her, either. It left his stomach an uncomfortable, churning mess.

If Gibbs hadn't interrupted, he would've kissed Jeanne, and God only knew where it might have gone from there. Scratch that – he knew exactly where it would've gone – exactly where he wanted it to go. It was too soon! He knew it was too soon, and he'd been carried away and rushed it. He was certain she'd been as caught up in the moment as he was and was now probably second-guessing any continued involvement in this whole fucked-up mess.

Tony wasn't used to being insecure around women. It was one of the few things he knew exactly how to approach. Women had always been attracted to his looks and charm, and it took a little time for his personality to grate on their nerves. He was aware of it – which is why the vast majority of his relationships had been short and sweet. Move quickly and then get out before anyone could get too hurt.

With a few notable exceptions, it was a motto he'd lived by for most of his life. Jeanne, of course, had been one of the exceptions, and now he felt constantly wrong-footed with every decision he made when it came to her. Perhaps it would just be better to let her go – or at least wait to see if she decided to call again.

So, no Gibbs or Jeanne to depend on for a ride, and he didn't want to ask Tim or Ziva since he didn't know if they were aware that Gibbs was coming over to his place the night Jeanne was there. Afterwards, he was certain they would've noticed the added tension coming from Gibbs – who would never admit what happened – and were of course dying of curiosity. He didn't want to deal with that.

He supposed he could've called Abby who was always willing to go above and beyond to help him out, but he'd reached critical mass with her hovering concern. Palmer would've come, but he would've had to explain where he was going to Ducky, who would've told Gibbs… and thus was the reason he was sitting on this bench near the road in the blistering sunshine.

He gingerly removed his phone from his pocket – his collar bone still protested any sort of twisting motion – but before he could dial the cab company, he noticed a car pulling up in front of his bench. He squinted against the glare of the sun, as he watched the passenger side window roll down.

A smiling Ducky waved from the front seat of his Morgan – therefore it was actually the driver's side window. Tony grinned.

"Anthony, dear boy, do get in. I'm blocking traffic," Ducky said in his Scottish lilt.

"What are you doing here, Ducky?" Tony asked while hauling himself off the bench and rounding to the passenger side.

"Gibbs said you had your first physical therapy appointment today, but you'd already left when he tried to pick you up. They're quite busy on their case, so I offered to give you a lift home," Ducky said, pulling away from the curb and into the moving traffic.

So, Gibbs had remembered. Tony wasn't sure, but he guessed his boss thought Tony might be too angry to ride with him, so he'd sent Ducky instead. Gibbs tended to show more with action rather than words. Tony felt a twinge of guilt for his earlier thoughts but only a twinge since he was happy to get the lift.

"Thanks for the ride, Ducky," he said, pasting an unconcerned smile upon his face and allowing his body to relax into the comfort of the seat.

"How was your session? You're moving rather stiffly," Ducky said, and Tony remembered how observant the elder doctor could be – usually more observant than Tony wanted him to be.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It's never what I'd even loosely call fun, but I did manage to get some movement," he said, figuring there really was no need to hide anything yet. There was no question he wasn't ready to return to the office.

"And I'd wager you didn't bring any of your pain reduction medication with you, correct?" Ducky asked.

Tony ducked his head sheepishly. "I've been trying to only use them at night."

"Ah, but as I'm sure you'll remember from your previous excursions, the beginning of PT is always painful but necessary, so it's best to keep on top of it," Ducky said, frowning in reproach.

"I'll take a couple when I get home," Tony said, and it wasn't even a lie. He needed the relief, or he'd be useless.

They chatted amicably on the ride, Tony fighting his heavy eyelids all the while. The session had really kicked the crap out of him. By the time Ducky pulled into the parking area for Tony's building, he could think of nothing else but swallowing a couple of those pain-relieving tablets and his comfy bed.

Ducky walked him up, loosely guiding him by the elbow, and Tony was too tired to protest. Approaching his door, they both stopped short to find Jeanne leaning against the wall outside his apartment. Her eyes raked over him, taking in the way he clutched his sling-ridden arm to his side carefully, and the lines of tension around his mouth and eyes. Tony cursed himself for not getting a mask in place quick enough before remembering he was trying not to do that with her.

"Hey," he said dumbly, stunned to find her there.

She ignored him and instead focused on Ducky who didn't seem remotely surprised by her presence.

"Donald Mallard, Ducky to my friends. I'm the Medical Examiner at NCIS," Ducky said, extending his hand.

"Jeanne Benoit," she said, shaking his hand.

"Anthony, I assume you're the one with a key," Ducky said, forcing Tony from his daze. Feeling his face warm, he dragged his eyes away from her and took the key from his pocket, ushering them all inside his apartment.

He didn't have the energy to be a polite host, and he was still reeling that she had come – not called, but come – to see him. He was struggling to wrap his head around what that might mean. He sank tiredly onto his couch, letting the soft leather cocoon him in its familiarity.

He should offer them drinks or something, he thought, unmoving.

Ducky looked around the living room and glanced in at the kitchen counter. "Where do you keep your prescription, Anthony?" he asked.

Tony waved his hand vaguely towards his bedroom. "Top nightstand drawer," he said.

"I'll get them," Jeanne said, turning away.

Tony looked up at Ducky through bleary eyes. "So, how deep am I in it with Gibbs?" he asked. There was no longer any point in pretending that Gibbs might not have talked to Ducky about finding Jeanne at his place the other night. Ducky's lack of reaction at finding her there told him all he needed to know.

Ducky smirked and sat down beside him, patting him on his leg. "Not too deep, lad. I think Jethro has acknowledged that he's the one who stepped in it this time."

Tony's eyes widened in surprise.

"Now, don't get your hopes up. You know how he is and expressing his own culpability won't come easily – if at all. Even if it should," Ducky said disapprovingly. "He's concerned and not very good at expressing it."

Tony wasn't sure about that, but Ducky wasn't the one who needed to hear it. "What case has them so busy?" he asked instead.

"A Marine's family was murdered whilst he was serving overseas," Ducky replied grimly.

Tony's eyes shot open wide. "Ouch. That has to cut a little too close for Gibbs."

"Trust me when I say that the team is bearing the brunt of his mood in much the same way you did the other night. There's also apparently some friction between Ziva and the TAD covering your desk, but I don't know any of the details, so it's useless to pester me about it," Ducky said.

Tony scowled. "I don't pester. I wonder what Ziva did?"

"You jumped to the conclusion that she's the one at fault rather quickly," Ducky said, eyebrows raised and looking rather surprised.

"I suppose I did," Tony acknowledged. "You sure you don't know any of the details? You jumped to her defense just as quickly."

Ducky's lips twitched. "Touché, my good man."

"I found them," Jeanne said, emerging from Tony's bedroom. It struck him that it had taken her longer than necessary to reach his nightstand drawer, but he wanted the relief too badly to ask about it.

She shook two pills into his waiting palm and said, "Let me get you a glass of water."

Before she'd finished, however, he'd dry swallowed the tablets.

"All right then. I take it that means your session went well?" she asked. "You hadn't called, and I didn't know if you had a ride."

"Ducky was nice enough to pick me up in Gibbs' stead," Tony replied.

She blinked, and he could see that news surprised her. "Gibbs was going to drive you?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

Tony shrugged, wincing at the pain that shot through his shoulder. "I wasn't sure if he would after… everything."

"I see. He doesn't like me much," she said as if it were the understatement of the century.

"Gibbs doesn't like anybody. Don't take it personally, he's usually like that. It's me he's angry with, not you," Tony said while Ducky ducked his head trying to cover his smile.

Jeanne shook her head. "I don't think so. At least, it didn't appear that way when I spoke to him in the parking lot," she said.

Tony's head shot up, and even Ducky's eyes widened in surprise.

"When was this?" Tony asked, leaning in to be sure he'd heard that right.

"After he left here the other night. I waited for him," she said, now completely ignoring Ducky's presence, her eyes locked on Tony's.

Tony blinked, feeling slightly shell-shocked. "You did? I have to admit, I'm more than a little impressed. He can be… intimidating."

"I can handle myself," Jeanne responded dryly.

Tony grinned, feeling lighter than he had all day. The meds must be really fast-acting. "I've noticed. So… how did that go over?" he asked, intensely curious.

Ducky, too, seemed to be listening with rapt attention.

"Rather hostile to be honest, but I think his anger stems from his concern for you. He cares about what happens to you," Jeanne said. "I saw it the night we were taken hostage."

Tony couldn't help but notice how similar her words were to Ducky's only moments ago, but he still couldn't bring himself to believe it. "Ha! Just wait around long enough to see him start whacking me on the back of the head," he said.

She frowned, looking uncertain. "Well, he does lack social graces, but I assured him I'm not out to hurt you," she said, her words filling him with warmth.

"To be fair, Ducky and I were just talking about the brutal case they're working on even before Gibbs came over here, so I don't imagine any of the team would be all that friendly at the moment," Tony said, sinking lower into the couch.

He was reminded of being a small child and unwilling to go to sleep in case he'd miss something being said. He felt warm and happy having Jeanne there. The sun streaming in from the windows was glinting off her earrings and lighting her whole face. She looked very beautiful.

"Merci beaucoup," Jeanne said, her voice tinged with laughter.

Wait, had he said that out loud?

"Anthony is correct. The team is all on edge, not that that qualifies as an excuse or makes Jethro's behavior in any way acceptable. What you need to be aware of, my dear, is that all of them are still a bit tetchy that Anthony here managed to keep his undercover assignment with you secret from them for so long right under their noses. They unjustly resent both of you for it," Ducky said, barely concealing his own amusement at Tony's increasing loopy reaction to his medication.

Jeanne eyes narrowed dangerously. "They resent me for an undercover assignment I wasn't even aware was happening?" she asked, a distinctive growl to her timbre.

Tony was having difficulty keeping up, but he knew that tone of voice was bad, and he looked at Ducky, feeling panicked. He didn't want him to piss her off so much she'd leave.

"As I said, their resentment is unjust. It's more Anthony than you, but you are a reminder of what they see as a failure on their own parts."

"Yeah… they alys underesimae me," Tony said, unaware he was slurring.

"They know the FBI has cleared you, and I think they're wondering why you're still in DC," Ducky said, shrugging ruefully.

Tony had the impression Ducky knew exactly why Jeanne was remaining in DC, even though he was unaware but hadn't wanted to ask in case it prompted her to leave.

Jeanne looked at Tony, who found it difficult to focus. He kept blinking, trying to clear his head.

"I have some unfinished business," she said softly.

"Ah, well then, I think that's my cue to leave. Anthony, take your pills with you to your next session and take them immediately upon completion. I'll make it much easier," Ducky said, smiling indulgently at Tony who hadn't moved from the couch.

"Dr. Benoit, it was a pleasure, and I hope we'll see one another again soon," he said gallantly before showing himself to the door.

Jeanne looked down at Tony who felt a goofy smile spreading across his face. "You look pretty," he said happily.

Jeanne grinned, her eyes dancing merrily. "I can see why you have such an aversion to that pain medication. Close your eyes, Tony."

/* /* /* /*

Tony's eyes fluttered open, and he looked around his darkened living room, disoriented. He was lying on his sofa, a blanket tucked securely around him and the delicious aromas of shrimp, lemon and garlic filling his apartment. He tried to force his mind into recalling how he'd ended up here, but his nose had other ideas and the smell was very distracting.

His stomach rumbled loudly.

He must've fallen asleep – those meds always did knock him out… but that would mean Jeanne stayed… and cooked for him? How? He didn't have anything for cooking in his kitchen, and certainly not something as time sensitive as shrimp, but he was sure that was what his discerning nose could smell.

He sat up, pushing the blanket aside – had she tucked him in? – and got to his feet. Jeanne's head peered in from the kitchen.

"I thought I heard movement. Do you feel better?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said dazedly. "Did you cook?"

She smiled brightly. "I figured you might be hungry. I know I am, so I made shrimp scampi. I miss being able to cook living in a hotel."

"Uhm… how? I don't keep much on hand," he said.

She raised her eyebrows. "No kidding. How do you live this way? What do you eat? I went shopping," she said.

"You went… shopping?" he asked, bemused yet also somehow oddly touched.

"I had to; your cupboards were all bare. I figured with being one-armed, you must've needed some help with groceries. Along with the ingredients for dinner, I bought a few staples and a bottle of Muscadet. It goes really nice with seafood. I know I should tell you that you can't drink after taking the pain meds, but since the only thing I found in your refrigerator was beer, I thought that was a moot point. Is that all right?" she asked, growing concerned with his lack of response.

He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. She was acting rather… domestic. Was this what it would've been like if they'd actually moved in with each other a year ago? It felt as if there was something deep inside him suddenly missing, something he'd never even had.

"It's fine. It's good. I mean, thank you. I tend to work a lot, so I'm really not here to do much other than sleep. I eat a lot of take out," he said sheepishly.

"Sleeping, huh? That can't be very comfortable," she said, watching him closely as if he were a puzzle she was trying to figure out.

"Why's that?" he asked, perplexed.

"I retrieved your meds from your bedroom, remember? Why do you have a twin bed?" she asked.

He shrugged, wincing when his collar bone protested. "Somewhere to sleep… " he said, distracted.

She frowned. "Tony, you're a large man to be sleeping in a child's bed. Don't your feet hang off the end?" she asked.

Tony blushed. "I don't know. I'm used to it, and I sleep fine. The sheets are made of the finest Egyptian cotton," he said, trying to gather some bluster. He felt very wrong-footed.

She was still looking at him as if he had three heads. "They make those in Queen size, too," she said dryly before her expression softened. "I also found this in the drawer when I took out your meds. You kept it."

From her pocket, she removed the platinum bracelet she'd given him for Valentine's Day while they were dating. He didn't wear it anymore, but he couldn't bear to part with it, so he kept in his nightstand, sometimes taking it out to look at on night's when sleep just wouldn't come.

"Oh," he said, his face feeling very warm. "Yeah. Are we eating soon?" he asked, feeling uncomfortable. His stomach cooperated with perfect timing by growling again.

She nodded, slipping the bracelet back inside her pocket. "Yes, it's ready. Come on in, I've set the table, and the wine is chilled."

They sated their appetites and shared the wine over easy conversation. Tony hadn't realized just how hungry he was, and it dawned on him he really hadn't had much of an appetite over the past few days while he'd been worrying over the consequences of the confrontation with Gibbs. At least the Jeanne part of the equation seemed to have been settled. She obviously wanted to continue getting to know one another for real this time.

"That was really good. You're an excellent cook," he said appreciatively.

Once he'd pushed his plate away and leaned back, she pulled the bracelet from her pocket again, rubbing her thumb along the engraving.

"Mental ward. Somehow, that seems even more apropos now," she said, chuckling wryly.

"You think?" he asked, grinning.

"Why did you keep it?" she asked.

Tony sighed, dropping his head to rest on his hand. "I don't really know how to answer that. I'm not sure – I just couldn't part with it," he said softly.

"I'm glad," she said, clutching it in her hand. "It means you weren't quite able to let go, either. I tried. I really did."

"You put half the world between us," he said.

"It wasn't enough. It –"

"It was impossible to move on," he said, finishing for her.

"Yes. I couldn't get you out of my head," she whispered.

The meal was suddenly sitting very heavy in Tony's gut. "I never meant to hurt you, Jeanne. I couldn't live my life as Tony DiNardo, but sometimes I wished I could, or that I could make you understand."

"I think I do, Tony. I'll always wish it happened differently, but getting to know Tony DiNozzo these past few weeks, I've realized I already did know you," she said, eyes bright.

"Better than anyone," he agreed. If she only knew how true that statement was.

"What are you doing this weekend?" she asked suddenly.

"Pardon?" he asked, confused by the non sequitur. "Uhm… same as I've been doing since I got shot – nothing."

"Do you want to go to Boston with me?" she asked.

His eyes widened, and he searched her eyes for any hint of duplicity. "What's in Boston?" he asked.

Jeanne nodded as if steeling herself. "I have a job interview at Tufts Medical Center," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's not a job I want, but my brother set it up for me because he thinks I'm floundering. He owns a brownstone in the city. We were supposed to spend the weekend together when I came for the interview, but he was called out of town. We can still stay at his place – it has several rooms – and while I'm interviewing, I could have you see one of my colleagues there and get a second opinion on your shoulder."

She looked at him, eyes wide and wary awaiting his response.

"Oh," he said, his heart beating very fast. His mouth had always been his greatest ally and best weapon against the world, but words were failing him now. Did she mean it? Were they ready for this?

"It couldn't hurt to let them take a look. I also think we might have more of a chance to really get to know each other and see if this is going to work away from all the interruptions from your team," she said delicately.

"See if it's going to work?" he asked.

"Is that what you want?" she asked, sounding breathless.

"Yes," he said simply. "And you?"

She pressed her lips together. "I think so – but I'm not going to rush anything. We'll each have our own room, but we can explore the city together. There are some great museums, and I don't know if you've ever been to the North End, but the Italian food is to die for."

Tony grinned. "Oh, you sweet talker. You had me at Italian food. When are we going?" he asked.

She returned his smile. "It's a quick flight from DC, so I'll book it on Friday morning, if that's okay. My interview and your subsequent appointment will be in the afternoon."

"Okay," he said before he could stop and think about it.

Gibbs and the rest of the team would probably be pissed off, but this wasn't about them. This was about him – and he had to know. Jumping in two feet first without a safely net was a specialty of his, and thus far, it had served him well. He hoped there was a tiny bit of luck still hidden somewhere in the chalice of his life, because he really wanted this to work.

Author's Note:

Much thanks to my wonderful new beta and sounding board, Unilocular. I really appreciate all the feedback and another's thoughts on how things are coming across. I'm so grateful you volunteered as Tribute.

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