So, Toni had a problem. So what?
It wasn't like it was a serious problem or anything. She was sober, clean, sane, all the usual requirements that Uncle Sam liked to see in his agents. She was completely fine.
Well, except for teeny tiny part about being in love with her boss, but that's nothing. Completely irrelevant to the point.
Right.
She's tempted to smash her face against the keyboard. If she wasn't past recruitment age, she'd try the FBI. Fornell's as close to Gibbs as you can get without actually being Gibbs, so it wouldn't be much of an adjustment. She'd just slide right in there, pick up like nothing had ever changed, and even get to watch the epic rematches between Fornell and Gibbs. No loss whatsoever, right?
Okay, not right. Even if she wasn't too old, she wouldn't do it. She practically has 'property of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' tattooed on her ass.
She grins. Wouldn't that be a tat that'd blow Abby's brain.
"You're staring," McGee says, making her jump, knocking her hand against her mouse and making her pens clatter noisily.
Gibbs looks up and Toni forces a smile. A bell. A nice big bell. On a pink collar, possibly a collar rocking some diamonds. Yep. She can already see it around McGeek's neck.
A shock collar.
"I'm thinking, Probie," she says, shooting a glare at him. He's hanging over her shoulder, grinning perkily, and she's got a feeling he's been playing with the teeth whitener again. She contemplates pulling out her sunglasses, just to screw with him a little. "As thinking is a favored tool of the highly-trained investigator, it's no surprise you haven't heard of it."
McGee rolls his eyes. "Right. Do you have the background on Corporal Smith or not?"
She grabs the file, waving it at him. "Here."
Taking it, he gives her a worried look. "You sure you're okay, DiNozzo?"
Frowning, Toni stands up. She gives her suit jacket a tug, looking at the cuff with a critical eye. "I'm fine, McMom. Just a sleepless night." She summons up a smirk, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Something else you probably haven't heard of before."
Predictably, McGee stiffens. He's a little like a puffer fish, blowing up at the least possible provocation. If she were in a better mood, this'd almost be fun. She pats his shoulder. "Relax, McGee. I'm fine."
It's snowing, so she grabs her coat. "I'm also going for coffee. I'd offer to bring you one, but you know what they say about growing boys and coffee." Waggling her eyebrows, Toni grabs her keys. "I might also swing by the DCPD, see if I can light a fire under that detective." She shakes her head, grinning. "I'm beginning to understand the boss's love of redheads."
McGee makes a face. "She's not your type, Toni."
"Of course she is," Ziva says. "Detective Walker is breathing, is she not?"
Toni tucks her chin, giving Ziva a wounded look. "Et tu David?" She's relieved when Ziva's answer is confined to a small smile. "Well, I'll have you know the detective seemed quite interested in me." She turns up her collar, shoving her hands into her pockets. "And I'm off to do my duty for God and country."
As soon as she says the words, she regrets them. Without looking up, she knows Director Sheppard is standing on the landing. It would just be how her luck would go. She sobers. "Be back in twenty if the traffic's right."
It won't be, but no one says anything.
*
At least not until she's in the elevator and the doors are sliding shut. Never let it be said that Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't have the world's worst sense of timing.
Seriously, never, because the man does. The man absolutely does.
She jumps again when a coffee cup is shoved through the closing doors, his hand stopping them. "Thought I'd come with you," he says, slipping into the elevator. "Coffee sounds good."
"Coffee and the DCPD," Toni reminds. "Last time I checked, those guys rank just a step below divorce lawyers with you."
He nods. "Yep." Leaning back against the elevator wall, Gibbs takes a swallow of his very-full coffee. A sign that Toni definitely does not miss.
Oh god. Therapy time. Standing there, watching the floors tick by, Toni contemplates a little mind-numbing panic. Gibbs doesn't do therapy and, she swears, if she has to spend a night cooped up in the man's basement with him, working on that damn boat while alternating between wanting to fuck his brains out and feeling guilty over Jeanne? She will go Section 8 on somebody.
"DiNozzo."
"I'm fine, Boss." She tips her head back against the elevator, tapping the heel of one shoe against the metal floor. "Seriously. It's just a bad day. Have 'em from time to time."
Again, Gibbs nods. "Yep."
God, she had to go and fall for the strong silent type. Nonna DiNozzo was right. She's a masochist. "Seriously." She looks over at him, despite knowing it's a mistake. It's damn hard to hide anything from the man. Even when she wants to, he has a way of looking right through her.
Not that it he hasn't been missing the obvious for years now, but that's probably deliberate. Which is a compliment, she thinks. Gibbs overlooking her brain dead crush because she's too good to lose.
At least, that's what she's been telling herself. It sounds better than pity and, besides, Gibbs isn't the pity type.
The elevator comes to a stop and Gibbs starts forward. He looks back at her, his eyes surprisingly honest, and she steels herself for the sympathetic assurances. She knows it wasn't her fault. It was Sheppard's orders to get close to Jeanne. Falling in love with her was an accident. Toni's been through all that with her therapist, the in-house shrink, and her houseplants. She knows and the idea of hearing it from Gibbs --
She's already starting to cringe when he says, "Just thought you could use the company."
Relief steals the oxygen from her lungs and Toni smiles. "Just don't mention a boat."
He snorts. "Hell, no. You'd destroy the damn thing."
Toni doesn't stick out her tongue, she doesn't, but damn it's close.
Story Notes:
Girl!Tony AU. written for the 2008 Fandom Stocking challenge on livejournal
Author's Chapter Notes:
So, Toni had a problem. So what?
Chapter End Notes:
Girl!Tony AU. written for the 2008 Fandom Stocking challenge on livejournal