Tony hummed along with the radio, fingers tapping out a matching rhythm against the steering wheel. He had considered stopping a few hours ago, but hadn't been tired then. And stopping now, when he was so close to home, seemed like a waste of time. He was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed again.
Tony shifted, stretching out as much as the leather seat and frame of the Ferrari would allow. He was sore all over, but that didn't have much to do with the hours he's spent behind the wheel. No, the car had nothing to do with the aches, pains and twinges that served as tangible reminders of the time Tony had spent with Terry.
Tony grinned. After meeting Terry, the only sites he'd seen were inside his hotel room. Over the following two days, they'd given the bed, the loveseat, the counter in the kitchenette, and the shower a workout. It had been a long time since Tony had been with a man that enthusiastic, flexible and fun.
Tony sighed softly. The memory that stood out in his mind the most was having sex on the balcony in the wee hours of the morning. It had started out as something of a lighthearted dare and had become so much more than that.
There was something so risque' about having sex in the open, although there was decidedly little risk of them actually being seen. Between the pre-dawn darkness, the light fog that had rolled in and being on the top floor, they were essentially invisible. The faint predawn chill against his overheated skin had created a delicious contrast that made Tony shiver just thinking about it. The memory of the cool, damp metal railing under his hands was so sharp, Tony's fingers instinctively flexed against the steering wheel as though seeking a firmer grip on a slippery surface.
Terry had taken him from behind, his thrust slow and even, almost as though he was trying to match the rolling motion of the waves below them. His fingertips had ghosted over Tony's arms, shoulders and back, causing more goose bumps than the salt laden ocean breeze. Soft sighs and low moans were the only sounds that passed between them.
That unhurried, languid interaction was as close as they'd come to having more than just sex. It wasn't making love, not in the truest sense, because while they enjoyed each other, there was no denying they weren't more than fuck buddies. There was definitely a higher degree of affection and sensuality to their time on the balcony than in anything that had come before but it wasn't love. It was their last time together, and by unspoken agreement, both of them had wanted the moment to last.
Tony shook his head, smiling in bemusement. He'd come without either of them touching his dick. It was the first and only time he could remember that ever happening.
He'd been very tempted to take Terry up on his suggestion he stay longer. The last time Tony had been with a guy that was more than a one night stand, a back alley blow job or hand job in a club's restroom was in college. It was refreshing to have those two days with Terry include a little more than just sweating up the sheets. There was some good conversation, a pay per view movie or two, shared room service, honest amusement and genuine laughter between them as well.
Spending time with Terry hadn't helped him make up his mind about Pete's job offer, but Tony couldn't say he regretted the time he'd spent with him. The sex had been fantastic, and was definitely something Tony needed.
Tony glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight and traffic was relatively light. At this rate, even driving the posted limit, he'd be back at his apartment in another hour. Tony laughed quietly to himself. Staying at the posted speed limit wasn't something he'd actually done much of on his way back to D.C.
Crossing the flat terrain of the mid-west, Tony had been unable to resist the temptation to see just how fast the Ferrari could go. He'd floored it and kept it there until a cop pulled him over two hours later. He been too high on adrenaline to feel very repentant about breaking the law, but he tried to at least look suitably chagrined when the cop asked for ID, registration and insurance.
To Tony's delighted astonishment, when the officer saw his agency ID, he'd actually recognized what NCIS stood for and what the organization did. Most people didn't even know NCIS existed, much less realized it was a legitimate government entity. He had asked Tony if he was on official business, and Tony considered lying for all of a second, before telling the truth. He didn't want anyone calling the director or worse, Gibbs, for confirmation of his story. So Tony told the cop he simply on his way back to DC after a taking some time off.
"Nice car."
"My dream car." Tony had admitted with a grin, patting the dash.
"Couldn't afford something like this," the cop had whistled silently in appreciation, his envy readily apparent.
"Me either." Tony had shrugged. "Belongs to a friend a friend of mine."
"Must be a good friend to loan you a sweet ride like this."
"Very good friend."
"You have to give it back soon then?"
Tony had sighed deeply. "When I get back to D.C."
Pete said he could keep the car as a replacement for the mustang, but Tony really couldn't take her up on that offer. It was too much to accept, even if he took the job. Maybe especially if he took the job; it wouldn't do for people to think he got special favors from the boss. He didn't really care what that might imply about him, but he definitely didn't want tongues wagging about Pete. She deserved better than that.
"How far did you go with it?"
"All the way to California."
"Damn boy," the cop had laughed, "don't do things by half measures, do you?"
"Not often." Tony admitted ruefully.
The tendency to plunge head long into things, to leap in with both feet before he looked, had gotten Tony into trouble a lot. It was only at NCIS that anyone seemed to care. It wasn't until after Gibbs sudden departure and then abrupt return that Tony came to the conclusion his boss hadn't worried he'd get hurt by being careless or over enthusiastic. It was far more likely Gibbs was worried Tony's actions might reflect badly on him and his team. Or maybe it was a Marine thing...taking care of his own...all Tony could really say for certain was he no longer thought it was ever about him.
In contrast to Gibbs, Pete never failed to ask him how he was doing and seemed to genuinely care about the answer. Instead of being pissed by his numerous refusals, she'd continued to repeatedly offer him the job. And when he thought he might be ready to say yes...she'd suggested he think it over a bit more, to make sure it was the right choice for him. Even though he didn't plan to keep it, she'd offered him a chance to own his dream car, no strings attached. Gibbs would have dismissed his desire to own something so flashy as foolish or stupid. The man hadn't given a damn when Tony;s Corvette had been stolen and totaled, and he hadn't been said a word about the mustang.
It made him wonder why he even needed to think about Pete's offer. The only real explanation for his deliberation was what he'd told Ziva once, "the heart wants what it wants", and his heart wanted Gibbs. But his heart had its limits; something his quasi-relationship with Jeanne had made all too apparent.
Tony realized there was a lot more he now wanted and needed than an infrequent "good job" and a head slap. He didn't want "you'll do" to be the only positive endorsement he'd ever receive. Or only having his well being matter if it would affect a case. He wanted to curl up with the same person every night, and wake up with them the next day. He wanted someone to share joy with, to help carry the sorrows, someone to lean on when he needed help, someone who trusted Tony to be there for him in return---and he really wanted that someone to be Gibbs. Tony sighed, shaking his head. Even if Gibbs were his soul mate, assuming he even believed in such things, it was clear he wasn't Gibbs'. How in the hell had he fallen for some who didn't trust or respect him? There were days when Tony was sure Gibbs barely tolerated him.
"At least not all everything in my life is that messed up," Tony muttered to himself. He had employment options, a friend willing to give him a chance to experience his dream car, a few days of memorable sex that had gone a long way toward reaffirming his self-confidence with regard to his own appeal to and prowess with men, and the cop had let him off with a warning and a directive to be more careful.
With a run of luck like that, he should have stopped off in Vegas. Maybe he'd just buy a lottery ticket. Or maybe he should see this as a sign. The past nine days had been more enjoyable than any time during the last twelve months.
Tony took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he seriously considered what he'd spent his time with Terry unconsciously avoiding. He had solid counter arguments for all Abby's reasons for staying.
They could remain friends whether he worked at NCIS or not. They might not see each other as much, but he hoped their friendship was more than a byproduct of proximity. If their staying in touch was dependant on their working together...they didn't have much of a friendship at all.
The team got along without Gibbs for four months; they would definitely survive being without Tony. They probably hadn't even noticed his absence. He was hardly the lynch pin Gibbs was.
Tony smiled grimly. He couldn't see Ziva or McGee calling him to come back to save their asses. McGee would get the hang of the paperwork eventually, and Ziva was already better at making connections. A little practice and they would be pros. It wasn't like they hadn't already worked together as a team, or that McGee lacked experience as a senior agent. The experience might be limited, but not more so than Tony had been when he took the job.
Ducky would understand. The older man had handled the loss of Kate, and Gerald leaving. He dealt with Gibbs being gone and then returning with his usual aplomb. He knew how to adjust, roll with the punches.
Tony could continue to send Marisol flowers. He could easily make it a standing order. With the increase in his salary, paying for it would hardly be a burden. The secretary pool would find a new heartthrob to moon over. The guys in the motor pool could make bets with anyone willing to risk twenty bucks.
He could continue to help people working for Pete. Not the same way he did at NCIS or even the same group of people, but his job with Pete would still be rewarding.
He'd be carrying a gun, the same as he had since before he started at NCIS. And in the circles he'd be moving in working for Paladin would accord him more respect and recognition than he'd ever gotten at NCIS. Pete looked out for her people...even better than Gibbs did, because she didn't assume they were okay if they weren't bleeding. She would watch is six as well as any one else could or would.
Bert wasn't truly alive, so he couldn't really miss Tony.
Even with all those reasons, what really tipped the scale, was the thought of having to be around Gibbs day in and day out knowing he'd only ever see Tony as good enough for now. Tony was really only on his team until someone smarter, faster, more capable came along. It hurt to admit that he was never going to be worth Gibb' time or attention if it wasn't work related.
"Never was much of a masochist," Tony murmured. Five years was a record for him in more ways than one.
He nodded to himself. After a good night's sleep, he'd call Pete and tell her he was taking the job. He'd draft his resignation and give it to the Director. Both of those would be easy to do.
Saying good bye would be harder. For him, at least, if not for his teammates. Well, Abby would likely take it badly, but Tony couldn't see Gibbs, Ziva or McGee shedding any tears. Ducky would probably be the only one to wish him well, but Tony knew the older man would actually mean it. That counted for a lot.
"Could take a page out of Gibbs' play book," Tony laughed dryly. Just walk out the damn door and don't look back. If he didn't give them a chance to say anything, he wouldn't have to deal with their responses...be it confusion, sorrow, delight, distain or general disregard.
Tony considered that a cowards way out when Gibbs had done it, but if it was good enough for a Marine, it would work for him too. It wasn't like he had to give a two week notice. Or if he did, that anyone other than the Director needed to know about it.
Having made his decision, like when he'd burned Jeanne's letter, Tony felt more settled and calmer. This felt like the right choice. He hoped the feeling would last longer than it had with Jeanne.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Tony comes to a decision.