Tony popped the trunk of his car and just stood there, looking without really seeing.
“I know, Tony, I know.” Gibbs’ words kept ringing in his ears, over and over again.
What did this all mean? Was he getting so obvious about his crush that everybody and their mother knew? He shrugged it off, eyes scanning the street for anything out of place. Not that he knew the area well enough to make that assessment. Still, it made him feel better. He’d have to ask Gibbs if she usually came by more than once. At least Gibbs wouldn’t be alone if she did. They weren’t on call this weekend and his plans didn’t involve anything else than a book and some beer. Not that he wouldn’t have changed his plans for Gibbs. Hell, he’d have done just about anything for the man.
He grabbed his bag and threw it on the porch, before heading around to the back the house, intending to check out the garden. A quick sweep of the backyard didn’t reveal anything more sinister than a forgotten basket beneath the fruit trees at the far end. The remains of another interrupted weekend, Tony thought.
He was about to walk through the door when a faint metallic sheen caught his eye. A hammer was dropped outside the French doors. Probably how she’d gotten into the house, he thought. Knowing Gibbs, she should have tried the front door, he smirked. Looking inside, he saw Gibbs sweeping the floor, clearly intent on clean up the glass scattered everywhere.
“You find anything, DiNozzo?” Gibbs had his back to him, but Tony could see his shoulders looked tense. Tony briefly wondered whether to offer a back massage, but dismissed the idea as quickly as it entered his mind. The state he was in, he would more likely than not do something stupid.
“Just a hammer,” he replied. “You got something to cover the broken door with?”
“She’s not coming back, Tony.”
“Still, I’d …”
“I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Tony knew that tone of voice and dropped the matter.
Easing the door open, Tony was careful not to dislodge any remaining glass as he went to retrieve his bag from the front porch. Gibbs was watching him when he returned, his face unreadable.
“Where should I put this?” Tony asked.
“Just leave it in the guest room…for now.” Gibbs turned his back on him and continued cleaning up the living room. Tony bounded upstairs, reluctant to leave Gibbs alone for long.
The guest bedroom was at the other end of the hall, facing the master bedroom. It was sparingly furnished, but still had a lived in feel to it. There was a colorful afghan folded at the foot of the bed, and a thick rug adorned the floor. A bookcase held a few books, antique tools and a model of a Viking long boat. Tony picked it up, ran his fingers over the polished wood and wondered whether Gibbs had made it himself. He put it back down and took a look at his bag. There was no need to unpack, not for just a couple of nights. Tony grabbed his toilet bag and left it by the sink in the bathroom.
As he walked into the hall, a faint glow from the main bedroom made him curious. The trail of petals continued from the stairs towards the door and he suddenly wondered whether Gibbs had even searched the house. He nudged the door open and practically jumped in surprise when a hand gripped his shoulder.
“Holy hell, Boss! Don’t do that, will ya!”
“Afraid to sleep in your own room?” Gibbs asked, a faintly amused expression on his face.
“I just…there was a light…have you searched the house, Gibbs?”
“Marie’s not here. I’ve told you, she never stays.”
Turning towards the bedroom again, Tony saw what the light was. There were about twenty red glass tea light holders, all with lit candles in them; together they cast a warm glow around the room. On any other night he might have found the mood very sensual, but tonight it only spoke volumes of the woman’s obsession.
“She doesn’t do things in half measures, does she,” Tony remarked as he took in the scene in front of him, wondering what kind of play she was staging.
“No,” was the brief reply. Gibbs quickly closed the door and went for the stairs.
“You don’t wanna…” Tony trailed off, looking at the closed door, and Gibbs’ retreating back. He caught up with him in the living room. The older man was sitting on a chair, looking worn out.
“Do you need to talk, or be quiet, or should I ...”
“You able to do that, Tony?” Gibbs interrupted.
“What, be quiet?” Tony just cocked an eyebrow, brushed some black petals off a woodworking magazine and made himself comfortable on the couch.
Gibbs snorted and got up and emptied the overflowing dustpan into a metal bucket he’d placed by the bookshelves. He took it with him and disappeared down into the basement, presumably to empty it. Tony threw down the magazine and decided to finish the cleanup work. When Gibbs got back, Tony was busy vacuuming, trying to get rid of the wilted petals scattered everywhere.
“Playing the little wife, DiNozzo?”
“What, you need me to?” He couldn’t resist. Flirting with your boss was always dangerous, especially on a night like this, but there was something about Gibbs tonight that made it so tempting.
Gibbs just chuckled and disappeared into the kitchen. Tony could hear the fridge open and close as Gibbs rummaged around. Tony had only managed to eat half his burger at Murphy’s and wouldn’t mind something.
“Want something to eat?” Gibbs called.
“I don’t know, Boss, you sure you can cook?”
“I can cook, DiNozzo. Better than you, anyway.”
“Reeally, Boss? Isn’t there a rule, or something? Trust, but verify?”
Gibbs snorted, “That goes both ways, Tony. You’re cooking tomorrow.”
“You make your guests cook, Boss? That’s just wrong.” Tony had that mischievous look about him Gibbs loved, and feared.
“Listen, if you’re gonna stay on this self-appointed protection detail the entire weekend, call me Jethro, ok?”
“I can do that…Jethro.” Tony leaned against the door frame, watching the other man work. He was making a couple of sandwiches, piling roast beef and lettuce on slices of rye bread.
“Would you like a beer with this?” Gibbs cast a glance at Tony over his shoulder and waved a hand towards the fridge. Gibbs brought the plates over to the table and motioned him to sit down. Savoring the food, Tony still couldn’t resist having a go at Gibbs.
“This hardly constitutes cooking, Gibbs, it’s more like building Lego. You know, just putting stuff on top of each other.”
Gibbs laughed, a rich warm laughter that sent shivers down Tony’s spine. “You’re not getting out of cooking tomorrow. But I’ll make you a deal. I’ll make a proper Sunday dinner, how’s that, Special Agent DiNozzo?”
“That’ll do,” Tony replied, before taking another big chunk out of his sandwich.
They finished their meal and took a couple of fresh bottles of beer with them to the living room. Tony toed off his shoes and slumped onto the couch with a content sigh.
“You’re settling in, I see,” Gibbs remarked, eying him intently.
“You got a problem with that, Jethro?” Tony held his gaze as a smile flickered over his face.
“I probably should, but I don’t.” Gibbs picked up the remote control, and moments later the evening news filled the room.
******
McGee closed the door behind him and sat down by his desk. His eyes fell to the wastebasket and he quickly fished out the two crumpled up sheets of paper. Blanks. Bingo. Smiling, he folded his hands behind his head and started at the wall in front of him. The storyboard was empty. He’d put all the material he used in a box for the night, keeping it out of his friend’s reach. He knew Tony would snoop around, the man was just built that way. The born detective, McGee smirked.
Thinking back at the restaurant his mood sobered. Something was off and he knew his little prank was part of it. But who would have thought Tony would react that way? He’d expected him to get a bit offended, given the God’s-gift-to-women role Tony liked to play. McGee paused. There was something there, something he didn’t quite get.
McGee sighed, got up and went to find the jacket he liked to use whenever writing. Maybe he should revisit the scene he’d started as a joke. Maybe he’d be able to connect the dots, find the missing pieces.
Chapter End Notes:
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