Chapter Thirty-Six

The Famous Final Scene

Tony wore his very best ash-grey Armani suit with a Prada violet-striped tie to his Award Ceremony earlier that day. He was still wearing it, although he'd loosened the collar. He was basking in the glow of the recognition as he sat with his whole team at Divine Dolci, an upscale Italian restaurant in downtown DC.

He'd not only been awarded the Navy Meritorious Civilian Service Award, but also the FBI's Director's Award for Outstanding Criminal Investigation. Both medals were still in their open boxes and resting in front of him on the table. The restaurant's overhead lights made them sparkle brilliantly. Tony kept stealing quick glances to be sure they were real. While he tended to make long speeches and lap up the glory when he accepted awards on Gibbs' behalf, when it was gushing words being spoken about him, he found himself atypically tongue-tied. His cheeks felt exceedingly warm as he walked up to accept, and he only managed a brief, but sincere, thank you when he reached the podium.

Tim and Abby had a good laugh and had been teasing him about it ever since.

He'd received a call from Tina after the ceremony, congratulating him and reiterating what a good job he'd done gathering intel. She told him that there'd always be a spot for him on her team if he ever changed his mind. She'd also said that Sully was going to physical therapy and grumbling about it just as much as him. Tony had been keeping in touch with his old friend by phone, and they were even planning on catching a Phillies game once baseball season commenced.

As the delicious dinner was being cleared away, and the drinks being refilled, they all began perusing the dessert menu. Tony didn't bother. If you were eating at an Italian restaurant, you ordered the Cannoli. There was no other option.

"Anthony, well done, my boy, and thank you for sharing your celebration with the rest of us," Ducky said, a twinkle in his eye as he raised his glass.

"You should thank Gibbs. He's the one who suggested we go out," Tony said, tipping his head toward the boss.

"Don't expect it to become a habit," Gibbs said gruffly, but they all could see the warmth in his eyes.

"And thanks for asking me along, even though I wasn't around for the actual award-earning part," Diana Reardon, their newest team member said.

She was an average-height woman with extremely curly, auburn-colored hair that fell to her shoulders in tight spirals. So far, she seemed to fit well into the team dynamics, and although not nearly as infatuated as Tony – she'd seen a lot of movies.

"Of course we included you, Diana. That's what teams do," Tim said, smiling, while also giving a slight nod in Tony's direction.

Tony returned the gesture, warmed by the partnership they'd managed to recover. Ziva's failure was complete. He'd heard from a few of his overseas contacts that she was struggling to find anyone who would return her calls, and the Israeli government had set a trial date. Apparently, while Eli's trial would cause a lot of unwanted attention, his daughter wasn't high enough on the food chain to cause much of a fuss.

"I think going out like this should become a tradition – every month, or maybe after the successful completion of a case. It's nice for us all to get together outside of work," Abby said enthusiastically.

She was wearing the dog collar Tony gave her and a heavily studded leather jacket – her dress-up clothes – as she'd referred to them.

"I think that's more socializing than the Boss could take. Sometimes we go through a lot of cases in a short amount of time," Tony said, grinning.

"NCIS won't pay for it, either," Gibbs said.

"Is NCIS treating us tonight?" Jimmy asked, startled.

"They will when I put it on my expense report," Gibbs replied.

"Better get it in quick. The new director starts next week. I wonder what he'll be like," Abby said.

Although there'd been nothing official, scuttlebutt was rampant that a new director – not the one who'd been temporarily filling in – was due to start his tenure. Tim and Abby did a little digging and discovered his name was Henry Klein, and he was a former Navy submarine captain.

"I've heard the name, but I've never met him," Ducky said.

"He's a good man," Gibbs said.

"You've met him, Boss?" Tony asked.

He'd been wondering if Gibbs knew him. He seemed to know a lot of people in the military –from either when he'd served or through contact on various cases, both at NIS and later when it became NCIS.

"Our paths have crossed," he said vaguely.

"What's he like, Boss? Do you think he'll make a good director?" Tim asked.

"You seem to have prior relationships with all the directors, Gibbs," Jimmy said, beaming.

The table went quiet, frozen in place. All eyes turned to Gibbs to see how he would react. At the moment, he was just glaring intensely at Ducky's assistant. The smile melted off Jimmy's face, and he adjusted his glasses nervously.

"What I mean to say is, you've been with NCIS for such a long time that you've met nearly all the older administration," Jimmy said, swallowing convulsively.

"Just stop talking, Jimmy," Abby said in a stage whisper.

"Mr. Palmer, I seem to be at a loss on how to cure that permanent foot-in-mouth disease to which you are so prone," Ducky said, sighing.

"He's military, so he has insight to how things work," Gibbs said, turning to Tim and ignoring Jimmy.

Tony saw the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, so he knew the boss was amused. Although he'd never be considered easily approachable, Gibbs had been lighter since Ziva's departure. Quicker to smile – if briefly – and willing to listen to Tony and Tim's ideas. Of course, they hadn't had a hot case all week, so it could all change once that happened.

At one of the cowboy steak dinners over at Gibbs' place, he'd let Tony in on a new rule. He also instructed Tony to be sure that he, Gibbs, followed it.

Rule Fifty – Listen to your SFA's gut, too.

Tony thought it was a lot of pressure to be the reason for one of Gibbs' rules, but quite an honor, as well, and he had no intention of making Gibbs regret it.

"So, he's good with sailors and Marines, what about with regular old, working stiff civilians?" Tony asked.

Gibbs shrugged. "Only knew him from the military. He's got connections on the Hill, though."

"He'd have to in order to get the job," Tim said.

"I wonder why the temporary director didn't get it. He seemed to be doing okay, and isn't that how it usually works?" Diana asked.

"If Assistant Director Vance was assigned the temporary post, it probably would," Tim said.

"But it turned out Vance had connections that, if brought to light, might cause some discomfort and a whole new round of scrutiny. SecNav wants someone squeaky clean, without a trace of shade, who won't cause him any embarrassment in the near future," Tony said sagely.

"And if he can actually do the job comes second," Gibbs added glumly.

"How much is the acting director actually involved in current cases?" Diana asked.

"Depends on the director. Morrow tended to be scarce, but he got involved when necessary and usually backed us up. Shepherd also had our backs – most of us, anyway – but she tended to micro-manage more than necessary. She liked to keep tabs on the MCRT," Tony said.

The waitress returned to take the dessert orders, and after she left, Gibbs answered Diana's question, but he was really speaking to all of them.

"We do our jobs until its done. Doesn't matter who the director is," he said, indicating the discussion was over.

"Since it's time for new beginnings, I think I'm ready to be back in the field, Boss," Tony said hopefully.

Gibbs sighed, exasperated. Tony had been asking to get back in the field at least twice a day since Diana joined the team. Even she had finally told him to quit whining and wait it out.

"You've got three more weeks, DiNozzo. Maybe they shoulda given you a calendar instead of a medal."

Tony pulled his medals closer to him and guarded them possessively. "They're mine now," he said.

"Then quit asking when you can go back in the field," Gibbs said, growling.

Tony knew he wasn't really mad. If Tony stopped asking, he knew the boss would think something was wrong and probably insist Ducky check him over. In fact, he was probably going to insist Ducky check him over anyway even after he was medically cleared by his doctor.

"Don't worry, Anthony – your scans show your injuries are healing nicely. You just have to give it a little more time," Ducky said fondly.

"You really do need to wait until they're fully healed, Tony. I mean, with how often you get hurt, you can't start out with any weak spots," Jimmy said unhelpfully.

"There is nothing weak about me. I'm a well-functioning, finely tuned engine," Tony said with his usual bravado.

"Your mouth is certainly back to regular form," McGee said, getting giggles from Abby and Jimmy.

The waitress, who'd been casting Tony sultry smiles all evening, returned with the desserts, and when she leaned over to place his cannoli on the table, she grazed his arm with her breast. From the corner of his eye, he saw McEnvy roll his eyes. Normally – particularly knowing it would annoy the Probie – Tony would've already got her number and probably arranged a meet-up after her shift.

Not tonight though.

Tonight, he was out with his team, and he was really enjoying himself. He'd gone to backyard barbeques or gatherings with his fellow officers in Baltimore occasionally, but this was the first time since his college fraternity brothers that he had a solid group to rely on. Almost like a family. That didn't come around all that often, at least not for him, so he was going to soak up every moment.

There'd be plenty of dates on other nights. Tonight was about family.

Note: And that's a wrap. Thanks so much to all the readers who left comments and kudos along the way. I really thrive on the feedback, so it's very appreciated.

I'd also like to give special thanks to Sueducksfoot for pre-reading, and Acrwdof1 for a plethora of information on both the government and the military.

Now it's time to figure out where to go next…