Disclaimer: I own nothing but the typos. If you recognize it, it isn't mine.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read, alerted, fav'd and left a review. I appreciate you taking the journey with me.
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After Ziva is arrested by the FBI, the tension that used to hang in the bullpen recedes like a fog on an autumn morning. The days slide into an easy rhythm with Tony at the helm, leading the team as he sees fit. Tim still does the computer work, but he doesn't complain anymore. And thankfully, now it's more complicated tasks since Tony came clean about being computer literate. Sort of.
Tony stops sending Michelle on missions to nowhere, but she still wanders off at inopportune times. She continues Tony's original ruse, heading down to autopsy to collect forms in triplicate for AUSA Faith Coleman. They should question her about it, but they don't because if there is ever one person Tony can't stand, it's Michelle Lee. Tim can't understand why because she is efficient and thorough and trying to do her absolute best. But he thinks it's a good idea to put as much space between Tony and Michelle until she figures it out and transfers.
Tony was supposed to hire a new junior agent, but that's on pause. Tony handed Tim a stack of files that reached above Tim's computer monitor. "Narrow it down for me," he said. Tim figured it was just busy work because Tony didn't want to deal with it. But then, Tony told Tim that it was his opportunity to choose people he thought he could work with. Tony could work with pretty much anyone, he said. Tim, he is the picky one. When Tim mentioned Tony's dislike of Michelle Lee, Tony's face darkened like a thunderstorm. Tim hasn't brought her up again. And just as Tim dove into the files, there was a sudden hiring freeze at NCIS.
Director Jenny Shepard was deposed, quietly and quickly. A bright "see you tomorrow" on a Tuesday evening, followed by not showing up on Wednesday morning. On Thursday, a short and sullen man named Leon Vance arrived to announce he was the newest director of NCIS. If scuttlebutt is to be believed, Shepard was arrested by the FBI for allowing Ziva to work unchecked. Tim ignores it because he never cared for gossip anyway. He prefers cold, hard facts.
And still, Tim and Tony work cases as if the agency isn't a ship sinking around them. They head to crime scenes with Michelle in tow if she's in the bullpen at the time. It might be against regulation to leave her behind, but Tony doesn't have the patience for her these days.
Tim and Tony are working a case—yet another AWOL sailor—in the bullpen. Computer work for Tim and whatever it is Tony does when he's staring at the plasma, brooding. Probably watching a movie in his mind, but Tim knows it's more than that.
Tim is digging into the sailor's family history. Looking into who owns property where the sailor could hide and cross-referencing with social media to see who might like him enough to help.
Suddenly, someone clears their throat at the edge of the bullpen.
Tobias Fornell stands there, wearing a bemused smile on his face. Despite his best intentions, Tim's heart crawls into his throat. The man did try to arrest him recently. Tim doesn't know how Tony faced him so many times after Fornell arrested Tony for murder last year.
Fornell nods at Tony. "Don't you ever do any work, DiNutzo?"
"Come to steal another one of my arrests, Fornell?" Tony lobs back.
"You know Ziva David was mine."
Tony lifts his eyebrows. "Only because we did all the work. And you even got that nice little bonus."
"A bonus?" Fornell laughs mirthlessly. "My boss damned near killed me when he found out that Director Shepard was involved."
Tim's eyes dart between the two of them. There's a, at least he'd like to think, fake animosity between the two of them. Frenemies like Gibbs and Fornell used to be. But Tim isn't sure until Fornell enters the bullpen to clap a friendly hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony doesn't shy away or deck him. So maybe, they might be friends. Whatever is going on is well above Tim's paygrade anyway.
Splitting his attention between the computer screen and Tony's conversation with Fornell, Tim tries to listen as unobtrusively as possible. Tony and Fornell speak, voices low and scary-calm.
"You didn't tell me this went up to the director," Fornell whispers. "You coulda warned me she was involved with the whole thing. That way I could've informed my director. She wasn't very happy to be on the backfoot with this one."
Tony rubs at the back of his neck. "That's because I had no idea. I thought Ziva was working alone, you know? Sending information back to Mossad."
Fornell clips a nod. "She was sending information to Mossad and some other groups we're just finding out about. But when we seized her computer, there was a direct link to Shepard's computer."
"A link?" Tony asks.
"Yeah, you know – " Fornell waggles his hands around " – like her computers were linked and they could talk to each other. Send stuff back and forth. Important stuff."
"They were encrypted," Tony says.
"Maybe that's it."
It takes everything Tim has not to start correcting Tony and Fornell. His entire body tenses. He bites the inside of his cheek, hard enough to make it bleed. Neither of them are explaining it right. Sure, he might not know exactly how the computers were linked—maybe remote access or a backdoor connection—but whatever they're suggested is wrong. So very, very wrong.
I'm not listening. I'm not listening. I'm –
"Hey McGee, what do you call it?" Tony asks.
"It depends on how they were linked," Tim offers. "And how it was controlled."
At his sudden inclusion, Tim winces.
Damn it, they got me.
Tony and Fornell share a smug smile before they both look at him. They knew he was eavesdropping the whole time. Tim's entire face goes bright red because they were just messing with him.
Fornell shrugs. "Well, the nerds in IT will figure out how much the Director sent Ziva and we'll decide what to do with her. She might not get jailtime, but she sure as hell won't ever get clearance again. She'll be lucky if she's able to clean the bathrooms of a federal building, let alone head an agency."
"I didn't even know she was involved," Tony admits.
"She wasn't much," Fornell continues. "She was sending low level information. Personnel documents. Crime scene reports. Documents Ziva appeared to request. Nothing that should be in a foreign government's hands, but not anything Top Secret. Not like the things Ziva found on her own."
"Does this mean she'll plead out?" Tim asks.
Fornell shrugs. "Not my problem. You'd have to ask the AUSA. That's their job, not mine."
"And what about Ziva?" Tony asks, voice suddenly serious.
Fornell smirks. "We finally found a charge she couldn't wriggle out from."
As Fornell lets the silence stretch, Tony leans forward, clearly interested. Tim sits up straighter in his chair, looks fully away from his computer monitor.
"The AUSA doesn't look kindly on the attempted murder of two federal agents," Fornell finishes. "Sure, there's assault charges and battery and threats with a deadly weapon and witness intimidation and harassment and attempted abduction and espionage, but those are just icing on the attempted murder cake. If she hadn't threatened to kill you two, she'd probably get punted back home."
Tony opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.
Something strange washes over Tim. Relief tinged with sadness, maybe. He doesn't really know quite how to quantify the strange emotion. Ziva was once part of their team. Someone he came to understand and know and rely on and maybe, even to a certain degree, like as a person. Sure, she committed some atrocious crimes against him and Tony and their country, but he still wouldn't wish prison time on her.
And yet, I think I'm supposed to.
Tony's face brightens. "That's great news."
"Yeah," Tim parrots. "Great news."
When Fornell starts to speak again, the door to the elevator dings. All of them look in that direction to watch a familiar figure move out of the elevator car. Except he looks more haggard, more ancient, more unkempt than Tim remembers.
Tim is already out of his seat. Moving towards the man.
Tony's face has gone sheet white. His shoulders slouch as he sighs almost with disappointment.
Jethro Gibbs ambles down the hallway towards the bullpen. His hair is longer, dusting at his ears, and he has a full beard growing. His clothes are a button-down polo shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. There's no missing the red Visitor's badge—the Scarlet Letter, Tony likes to call it—attached to his shirt. If Tim didn't know better, he might think Gibbs was actually wearing flip-flops.
I bet Gibbs doesn't even know what flip-flops are.
"What the hell's on your face?" Fornell gestures at his own cheeks.
"I'm trying something new," Gibbs says, voice rough as sandpaper.
"Well, I hate it." Fornell nods resolutely. "You look like shit."
Gibbs half-smiles. "I missed you too."
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to."
And when they both clap a hand on each other's shoulders in greeting, Tim decides he's done trying to figure out what the hell they're doing. They might be friends, but they sure don't act like it. Or they may just be playing nice until they shoot each other in the alley behind the building.
"Don't you have your own people to harass?" Gibbs asks.
"Yeah, but they kicked me out of the Hoover Building for the day. They got tired of hearing all about my big case."
They share a wry smile before Gibbs turns his sights to Tim and Tony. Based on the look on Tony's face, he appears to be like he's in a bad dream. One where Gibbs returns to usurp the title of team leader right from under Tony's nose. Tony is probably already planning how to clean out his desk.
"Heya Boss," Tim says, but it feels wrong.
Gibbs chuckles. "I'm not your Boss, McGee. You already have one."
At that, Tony relaxes. But only slightly.
Tim blinks "Then why are you back?"
Gibbs glances up to the director's office. "Got a meeting with the AUSA about Ziva spying. They've got questions about what I know. Either of you know about that?"
Tony shifts his weight. Then, he raises his hand in a little wave. When Gibbs' eyes lock on Tony, he flicks his lip between his teeth and looks away.
"I did, Boss," Tony admits.
Gibbs just stares at him.
"I did, Gibbs," Tony corrects himself.
"It was just like you told me…" He shakes his head, shell-shocked. "I still can't believe it."
At that, Fornell shoots Tim a wide-eyed look. Both of them move as slowly as they can into the bullpen, trying to get as far from the killing field as they could. Fornell finds the blank plasma screen immensely fascinating while Tim organizes the pen in his jar. Despite the muted voice, he can still catch the conversation. He isn't trying to listen, but there isn't anywhere else to go.
"Yeah, it was, Gibbs," Tony says. "I tried to tell you so many times, and it felt like you didn't want to know. You needed proof like my word wasn't good enough."
"I did want to know." Gibbs sighs. "I couldn't break up the team without proof."
"How do you feel about that about now?"
"I should have listened to you, Tony. Now, I'll do whatever it takes to keep Ziva locked up." Gibbs releases a loud sigh. "But you didn't have to do it alone..."
"You said you wouldn't let me throw a teammate under the bus unless I was completely sure." Tony runs his hand through his hair. "I didn't know for sure until you were gone. Until you left us."
Gibbs rears back, a little. "I didn't leave you. I retired."
Tony's face pinches. "You went to Mexico."
"Because you were ready."
Tony sticks his tongue between his teeth, shakes his head. "You said, 'I'll do.' That was all I got after all these years, Gibbs? I'll do? Like you didn't have a better option."
"I didn't need one because you're enough." Gibbs nods emphatically as he places his hands on Tony's shoulders. "I knew you'd do…great things. More than I ever thought possible for you."
And that's the moment Tony's face twists with emotion as though he is struggling not to cry. Deep in his chest, Tim is getting a little choked up too. He glances over at Fornell, who's pushing a button on the plasma. From where he stands, Tim watches the screen fizzle into an array of colors. Fornell glances around to find Tim watching. He shoots Tim with a menacing look. Tim drops his gaze to the cup of pens on his desk.
Why do I have so many pens?
Clearing his throat, Tony straightens up. "How long are you in town, Boss?"
"Not your boss, DiNozzo." Gibbs skewers him with a look. "Just long enough to deal with this crap."
"Want to grab a couple cervezas while you're here?"
"They're beers, Tony. And sure." Gibbs chuckles. "You in, McGee?"
At the mention of his name, Tim flinches violently. Of course, they knew he was listening too. He cringes inwardly, accidentally knocking his pen cup all over the floor. He crouches to start picking them up. He won't look back at Tony and Gibbs.
"Yeah, that'd be great," he says, voice anxious.
Before Gibbs can respond, there's movement up on the landing. The new director, Leon Vance, stands with his hands on the railing as he surveys his kingdom from on high. He hasn't been around long enough for Tim to form an opinion, but he only hopes it's better than how it was under Shepard.
"Ah, Special Agent Gibbs, in the flesh," Vance calls down.
Gibbs looks up, passive disinterest on his face. Fornell is already clambering up the stairs.
"Your reputation proceeds you," Vance continues.
"I'm sure," Gibbs drawls.
"Only great things," Fornell says, smirking.
"You have no idea," Vance replies.
Fornell is trying not to laugh on his way up.
"Come by the house tonight," Gibbs says. "Bring McGee, if he's up for it."
Tim already knows he won't be. Whatever Tony might need to say to Gibbs will be best aired without Tim around. Tim and Tony, they might've grown closer over the months since Gibbs left, but Tim doubts they'll ever have the same relationship that Tony and Gibbs do. He'll make up plans with friends or a make-believe date. He might not have any of those things, but he'll try to sell the lie. Tony probably won't buy it, but he'll pretend to. Maybe Tim will tag along for beers once or twice before Gibbs flies south for the winter—for forever—again.
And after a clipped nod at Tony and a half-smile at Tim, Gibbs heads up the stairs. He doesn't even break stride as he moves past Fornell, already knee deep in the bullshit he is shoveling at Vance, straight into the director's office. For how long it's been since he left, Gibbs still knows the way.
Once they're alone, Tony heads back to his desk. Tim tries to tuck back into his case, but his mind is still reeling. Still trying to make sense of the moments he just witnessed. Digest the news he just heard.
Gibbs is back in town for now. Ziva is going to prison.
Tony sits at his desk, props his head up on his right hand. His eyes are directed towards the Most Wanted Wall, but his mind is light-years away. Slipping out of his seat, Tim heads across the bullpen to stand in front of him. It takes a few moments until Tony blinks, owlishly. His face pinches almost in anger before it relaxes into his normal expression.
He laughs humorlessly. "I almost thought you were Lee."
"I think we're safe. For now," Tim says, nodding. "Last she checked in with me, she was working on the warrant to search the farm for our AWOL Marine. That should take a few hours." He raises his eyebrows in thought. "At least."
"Maybe it'll take longer?"
"Hopefully." Tim tries for a smile, but he fails miserably. "You know, you should try a little more with her."
"I am." When Tim shoots him a look, Tony wilts. "I'm trying."
"I know."
"Rule Thirteen."
Of course, Tony would quote one of Gibbs' favorite rules about not involving lawyers. And Tim wants to nod sagely and dispense some random advice. He isn't the advice-giving type, preferring to be the shoulder to cry on and the person to talk to. He isn't Ducky and he doesn't have years of experience and psychotherapy to pull from. At best, he has an eclectically arcane knowledge of computer guts, Star Wars, and video games. But he feels as though it's his duty as senior field agent to help guide the wayward team leader with his advice. It won't be portioned into a movie quote, but it'll be every bit of Tim's own words.
"Rule One," Tim says.
Tony squints his eyes until they're nearly closed. Stares up at Tim as if he's trying to make sense.
"'Even the smallest person can change the course of the future,'" Tim offers.
Then Tony sits up in his seat, brow folded into a question. He holds his hands out, index finger up as though he is scrolling through an invisible rolodex. Eventually, he tilts up his chin and shakes his head.
"I don't recognize that one," Tony admits.
Tim genuinely smiles. "That's because you never read Lord of the Rings, Tony."
"You mean the book?"
When Tim nods sagely, Tony waves his hand and makes a pfft noise. Tim raises his eyebrows to say that his point still stands, regardless of the packaging. Movie quote or book quote, the message is the same. That makes Tony put his hand to his chin, eyes deep in thought.
"Is this your way of telling me to work with what I've got?" Tony asks.
Tim chuckles. "Well, with the hiring freeze in place…"
"Good point."
"And she does all the warrants and paperwork for us." Tim puts a hand on his hip. "Come to think of it, we haven't had a case thrown out since Gibbs left."
Tony is nodding now. "When you're right, you're right, Probie." Then his face falls. "I just realized you're not a probie anymore."
Based on the expression on Tony's face, he looks as though the floor just fell out from under him. Tim will probably regret what he is about to do for the rest of his career at NCIS, but he does it anyway. It's like watching a freight train heading straight for a car. He can't stop himself.
"You can still call me that." When Tony perks up, Tim quickly adds: "Sometimes."
"Right. And you know what, I think it's time for a new set of rules. We're working with DiNozzo's Rules now." Tony is rubbing his hands together. "DiNozzo Rule Nine: Work with what you've got."
Tim squints at him. "What are the first eight?"
Tony rubs at his chin. "You know what, I forget them right now. I just know that I don't have a number nine. I'll remember the rest. Eventually."
Tim laughs, but Tony waves a hand at him.
"Write that down, McScribe. I don't want you to forget my genius."
With a quick eyeroll, Tim does what he's told. He writes the rule on a Post-It and sticks it to Tony's desk for him. Tony gives him a somber nod. Right now, it's the start of a new era.
"What do you think about Ziva?" Tim blurts out suddenly.
Instantly sobering, Tony's eyes narrow. "There's nothing to think. She's going to prison, McGee. You heard Fornell. It doesn't sound like she'll be able to walk from the charges. We made that happen."
"Do you think we'll have to testify?"
Tony makes a show of thinking about it before leaning back in his chair. "Probably. Especially if she won't plead out and you know Ziva, she won't admit guilt by taking a plea deal."
Anxiety worms its way into Tim's gut, the icy tendril taking hold. He doesn't realize he's clutching a pen so tightly until Tony takes it from his hand. Tony half-smiles.
"We won't have to deal with it for a while." When Tim looks at him, Tony nods encouragingly. "You know how long it takes to build a federal case. Months. And months." He languishes further into the chair. "Sometimes, years."
Tim visibly relaxes. "You're right."
"And until then, she'll be in prison. So, we have nothing to worry about."
"Yet..."
Tony throws out his hands. "We'll deal with it then, McGee. Don't we have a case to solve?"
Tim wishes he could exude Tony's easy confidence. Ever since Ziva's arrest, Tim has been sleeping with one eye open, half-expecting one of her Mossad friends to break into his apartment. He doesn't understand why because Mossad disavowed any knowledge of her activities. Even her father, Mossad Director David, issued a statement to NCIS apologizing on behalf of the agency.
As if on cue, the elevator dings. Michelle Lee scuttles out, hands tightly clasping a file folder. Tony mutters something that sounds oddly like, "Oh crap, that was quick." She heads into the bullpen, eyes on the ground. She stops in front of Tony's desk, right next to Tim.
"I got the warrant, sir," she says, proffering the folders to Tony. "And the copy of last week's autopsy report and another copy of the ballistics' report from Abby. Just in case you need it."
And with that, she starts towards her desk. Tim shoots Tony a glance. Tony releases a world-weary sigh as though everything falls onto him. And maybe, since he's team leader, it does.
"Good work, Lee," he says, sounding like he means it.
She brightens at the rare praise. Her entire face unfurling into a broad smile that Tony quickly matches. Tony glances over the warrant, ensuring it's what they need. He is already on his feet, grabbing his gear.
"We've got a property to search. McGee and Lee, get your stuff."
At the words, Tim stops short. Those words don't sound right coming from Tony's mouth. They already have a saying, a call to arms for the team. Sure, it might have been Gibbs' thing to say, but Tony can use it too. It sounds better than the phrase Tony tried. Some days, Tony is more like Gibbs than he ever would like to admit. But that one phrase won't turn him into their former boss completely.
Tim glances over at Tony, who is busy grabbing his creds and weapon. When Tony catches Tim staring, his brow furrows deeply.
Tim raises his eyebrows, nodding encouragingly as if to convey Just say it.
Tony laughs at the insanity of it. Then, he stands tall and proud. Looks over Tim and Michelle, his team.
He nods at Tim. "Grab your gear."