AN: Yes, I'm finally finishing this trilogy. It only took 14 years to get all three stories written. Oops. The story is mostly done and will roll out over the next few weeks. As a reminder, this is set in Season 8, which is the season DADT was repealed. If you haven't read Living By The Rules and Changing The Rules, this might be a good time to go back and remind yourself where things stand.
Chapter 1
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Tony sat on one of the park benches along the C&O Canal towpath and basked a bit in the first sun of the week. The past ten days had ranged from drizzle to downpour, but it hadn't slowed the dirtbags down — four murder cases in the same week meant he'd slept at his desk two, no, three, nights this week. At least they had wrapped up the last one last night, even if it had been too late for even Abby to want to do more than go home and sleep.
Runners along the canal towpath were embracing the better weather and short sleeves and singlets were everywhere. Tony pulled the zipper on his lightweight jacket down a bit more. He'd wanted to leave it at home — it finally, finally felt like spring was coming — but four soggy crime scenes meant Ducky had insisted on checking him out and listening to his breathing twice this week. So he would wear the jacket and that way if he ran into Abby or Ducky or Ziva today, he wouldn't have to explain why he was getting scolded to the boyfriend who hadn't yet heard about that particular episode in Tony's past.
As though thinking of Dan had summoned him, just then Tony heard his name and looked up to see his boyfriend approaching, camera in hand. Dan was wearing just a T-shirt, jeans and faded Red Sox cap, with a battered backpack slung over one shoulder.
Tony stood and sketched a wave as he did. Dan pulled him in and down for a kiss when he got close enough, and wow, did that help get rid of the last tension from a week of Gibbs embracing his second B is for bastard.
"This is already the best day of my week," Tony said as he stepped back, keeping one hand curled around Dan's hip. "I thought I was going to have to cancel again, but we got the last dirtbag of the week dead to rights about fourteen hours ago."
"You must have managed to sleep most of the time in between, because you look fantastic," Dan said.
"Good, that makes two of us," Tony said, smirking. "Every woman and half the men who have passed by have been ogling your ass in those jeans. We should get you away from the towpath before you cause a collision — I think every person who laces up running sneakers is out today."
"I only have eyes for you—" Dan broke off and pulled the camera up to his eye, adjusting the lens as he focused on the Federal row houses across the street.
"Me and the buildings," Tony said, stepping back to let Dan set up his shot. "We both know what you want to look at most today." Despite his words, his tone was affectionate. Dan listened to his running commentary on movies all the time while they sat on his couch. Tony could return the favor, and enjoy a really nice spring day at the same time. "So, do you have specific buildings you want to see, or are we just wandering while you geek out?"
Dan lowered the camera. "Hey, this is your neighborhood," he said. "Which streets have the best buildings?"
"Do I look like an expert?" Tony said. "We can just wander. In this neighborhood, every street looks like it could be a location setting for a historical movie." He led the way down the block and turned a corner to a street with less traffic so Dan could shoot to his heart's content and Tony wouldn't worry that some car would clip him.
"There are so many brick buildings, too," Dan said. "In Massachusetts, we have a lot more wooden ones. It's interesting to see the contrast."
They wandered up and down streets in the picturesque section of DC, though progress was slow as Dan alternated between shooting and sketching. Dan was leaning against a tree drawing the pattern in the brickwork of a building when he paused. "You're wondering why I'm drawing something I just took a dozen photos of?" he asked, looking over at where Tony was standing.
"Because photos don't give you scale or actual measurements, and you're planning to make something like this," Tony said. He remembered and laughed.
"That's funny?" Dan said. "Wait, have I said this before?"
"No. But I sketch and shoot, too," Tony said. "Only in my case, it's dead bodies." This time it was Dan laughing, as Tony continued explaining. "The first time I met a woman who joined our team a few weeks later was at a crime scene," he said. "She was Secret Service at the time and didn't understand why I was doing both. She didn't exactly appreciate my explanation either."
"Do I want to know?" Dan closed his notebook and started walking, and Tony kept pace.
"There was a GSM magazine on the table, and I used the cover model on the front as an example. Kate… She was pretty puritanical, and she was not amused." Tony sighed at the memory. "She would be surprised to learn about you."
"You haven't mentioned you're dating a guy this entire time?" Dan asked.
"Kate died six years ago," Tony said, his hand going to where her blood had splattered on her face and rubbing away the phantom drops. "Line of duty."
"I'm sorry." Dan's voice was sincere, but he was looking off in the distance. Before Tony could say anything, Dan had reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Like he was holding back tears? Tony's spidey senses perked up. "Dan?" he asked.
"My uncle died in the line of duty, too," Dan said. "He was a police officer in my hometown."
"Your hometown that sounds like something out of Norman Rockwell?" Tony said.
"It's a long story, and not one for a day like today." Dan's tone was final.
Tony nodded. "Have you been over to the Law Enforcement Memorial at Judiciary Square since you've been in town?"
"By the Building Museum?" Dan said. "Six or eight times. I can find Uncle Billy's name without looking it up by now."
"I would have gone with you." Tony stopped and put a hand on Dan's arm. The younger man turned to face him. "I didn't know your uncle, but I know what it's like to look at that name and know that letters engraved in marble aren't enough."
"Kate?" Dan asked.
"Among others," Tony said.
"How do you do it?" Dan asked. "Losing Uncle Billy… It still hurts." His hand went to the silver chain and worn holy medal around his neck.
"I wondered why you wore a St. Michael's medal," Tony said, keeping his voice light. "You're not a cop, so I figured it was probably because that was your middle name."
Dan shook his head. "No, my godfather's name is my middle name."
Tony sighed and looked around. There was a small park with benches down the block. "Let's go sit for a minute," he said, and led the way.
When they were sitting, Tony thought for a minute, trying to pick the words. "Denial. Or maybe compartmentalization." He sighed again. "You can't think about it, because when you think about the risks, you're distracted and that's when you are in trouble."
"What kind of risks?" Dan asked. "Kate was shot, too?"
Tony laughed, feeling the bitter edge of it on his tongue, like the metallic taste of her blood on his lips. "Oh, she was shot. A sniper got her. At least it was clean, and quick. The others…"
"Others?"
"What, you want details?" Tony said. "There was Chris Pacci, who was shot, then gutted in an elevator while chasing a cold case. Paula and her team were blown up by terrorists, about six blocks from here. Jenny … I can't go there. Last year, another agent Gibbs and McGee knew was stabbed, then burned." He could taste ashes in his mouth. "And then there are the close calls. We've all had those, more than I can count. More than I want to count."
"But it's worth it?" Dan asked.
Tony stared at the faded orange bricks at his feet. "That's what I always tell myself," he said. "Somebody has to keep people safe, and I decided to be one of those people."
He shook his head, trying to get rid of the heavy feeling that had fallen over them. "Like you said, not a conversation for a day like today." He smiled. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready for lunch and there's a great sidewalk café the next block over. We can sit outside and I can people-watch while you sketch the buildings."
"Sounds good," Dan said, and stood up. "Another time, maybe the next rainy, gloomy day, I'll tell you the story that includes Uncle Billy's death."
Tony filed away the odd word choice of "includes" and stood, leading Dan down the block toward the café he'd mentioned.
"Anthony?" The familiar voice and accent would have told him who had called out even if the use of his proper name hadn't.
"Hello, Ducky," Tony said, stopping and turning around to see Ducky standing there. It must be a weekend — Ducky's short-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, not a bowtie in sight.
"I don't know what has me more curious, Ducky or Anthony," Dan said.
"Dan, this is Dr. Mallard, our medical examiner," Tony said. "Everybody calls him Ducky." He turned toward Ducky. "This is my boyfriend, Dan Reilly," he said to the medical examiner. "He's been McGeeking out over Georgetown's architecture."
"Nice to meet you, Daniel," Ducky said, extending a hand. "I must admit, the buildings were one of the prime attractions of this neighborhood. In some ways, it reminds me of parts of London I have lived in, certainly more so than the suburbs that seem to sprawl everywhere."
"Usually when somebody calls me Daniel, I'm in trouble," Dan said as he shook his hand. "Although Ma usually goes for the full Daniel William Reilly in those cases."
Tony grimaced. "Full names, never a good sign. Although it's better than a smack on the head."
"My dear boy, you usually have done something that merits that particular reaction," Ducky said. Before Tony could respond, Ducky continued, "I'm sorry, we're going on about work matters and you two are obviously enjoying a date. Daniel, it was good to meet you at last." He took a step, then paused. "Anthony, I'm glad to see you heeded my prescription and are wearing a jacket." With that he was off.
"A prescription for a jacket?" Dan asked.
Tony managed not to sigh out loud. "It's a long story," he said, and braced for the inevitable request to tell it. He could never tell Jeanne that story without blowing a hole in his cover bigger than the one the Kool-Aid Man would make if he came smashing through the wall, and he hadn't dated anybody else since the plague for long enough to make it an issue. But they were approaching the six-month mark, and it was probably time. Except Dan wasn't asking, he realized.
"I know all about long stories," Dan was saying. "Yours probably isn't as weird as mine, but you don't have to drag it all up again."
The dogged investigator side of his brain wanted to chase that tantalizing hint, especially after the earlier conversation about Dan's uncle, but the words that rolled out of his mouth went a different direction. "Wait, you're not curious about why I have a prescription for a piece of clothing that's sold in dozens of places?"
"Your friend Ducky didn't seem worried about you, and I learned the hard way that sometimes you shouldn't be too curious." Dan grimaced.
"Yeah, I never got that concept," Tony said. "That's why I picked a job where I get paid to be curious and ask a lot of nosy questions. Although I'd probably have a lot fewer concussions if I didn't always snoop around in everything."
"And fewer close calls, I'd guess," Dan said. "The jacket story one of them?"
"Hold that thought," Tony said as they walked up to the hostess outside the cafe, who handed them menus and pointed them to an empty table outside.
Once they had ordered, Tony gathered his thoughts. "The story doesn't have anything to do with a jacket, unless you count the Ermenegildo Zegna suit jacket that got incinerated by the biohazard containment team."
"The what?" Dan set his water glass down with a clink on the metal mesh table.
"Well, it started with a letter," Tony said, and spun a tale of a woman gone mad and a deadly disease returned from the middle ages, making sure to focus on the funny bits so this didn't become a complete downer of a date. He paused when the waitress returned with their meals so she wouldn't think he had escaped from Bethesda's psych ward, and the whole story took most of their lunch. He stopped with the day he returned to work, though. Kate … that was another story altogether. No need to scare Dan off, especially since he had a family line of duty death in the back of his mind.
"I take it back," Dan said after finishing his sandwich. "Yours might even be weirder than mine, and I didn't think that was possible."
"Oh, re-eally." Tony leaned forward. "Now I'm definitely curious."
"Another day," Dan said, motioning to the line of people on the sidewalk. "I think they want their table back for more customers."
As they strolled down toward the Potomac, discussing plans for the rest of the weekend, a street sign directing drivers toward the route to Dupont Circle caught his eye. "It's supposed to be nice again tomorrow, and there's a great brunch place with outdoor seating on P Street over between DuPont Circle and Apex," Tony said.
"I'll go to the early Mass at the cathedral and meet you there afterward," Dan said.
"Does that mean an early night tonight?" Tony asked.
"Has it ever?" Dan said. "So, movies at your place or dancing at a club?"