Tony got in bed, curling up on his side, facing away from Gibbs. Knowing the coming conversation wasn’t going to be easy, Gibbs understood Tony not facing him. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could talk if he had to look at Tony to do it.
Anger was an emotion he’d never had any trouble expressing, but trying to deal with any other extreme emotion always made him feel awkward, at least when it came to addressing people who mattered. The higher the stakes, the more he cared about the outcome, the harder it was for Gibbs to find the right words.
He’d never been able to look directly at Shannon either when things got heavy. She’d always understood, letting him have some space, giving him time to get his emotions under control so that he could express his thoughts and feelings. He’d much rather act, but there were times when actions just didn’t cut it. When there was nothing to be done, nothing he could work on, nothing physical to offer that would put right what went wrong. It always took him some time to wrap his head around that fact and then a little longer to actually find the words he needed. Somehow it was easier to get the words out if he didn’t have to make eye contact the entire time while doing it. It was even easier if he didn’t have to face her directly.
His ex-wives never really got how hard it was for him to talk especially when dealing with intense emotions. They had always assumed his silence was a means of punishing them, or that he was simply avoiding them, unwilling to talk about their problems. That he didn’t look directly at them only added to their belief he wasn’t being honest.
Gibbs had forced himself to hold eye contact with Tony on more than one occasion when things got intensely personal. He needed him to believe he was being honest, that he meant what he was saying. But he also knew that now wasn’t the time to force it because Tony had similar problems when it came to dealing with intense emotions.
Oh Tony never had any trouble talking. No the younger man had plenty of words; he just never said much that was meaningful. Gibbs had seen the younger man deflect with practiced ease probing questions he didn’t want to answer, redirecting the flow of conversation, derailing the line of questioning by subtly changing the topic. When that didn’t work Tony would resort to annoying the questioner to the point he or she forgot what it was they’d wanted to know. Tony could also deftly avoid just about anything by using humor and movie references as his armor the same way Gibbs often used silence and thinly veiled hostility.
When his deflection and misdirection tactics didn’t work, Gibbs had seen Tony look away if things got intense, hiding the windows to his soul as much as possible. He didn’t often walk away like Gibbs was prone to doing, but he created just as much psychological distance as Gibbs did physically.
Gibbs left the light on as he slid into bed thinking the light might be needed later in case they were able to actually look at one another. He wanted to be able to see Tony if that happened. He wanted to be able to read his expression if given a chance.
Gibbs pulled the covers up, pleased to find residual warmth still held within the blankets. They hadn’t been out of bed long enough for it to get that cold.
He debated staying on his side before nixing that idea. It would send the wrong message. He didn’t want Tony to think he regretted their kiss or that he would be put off so easily. And he wanted to recapture that safe, contented feeling he’d gotten earlier when they’d snuggled together.
He moved closer to Tony, spooning up behind him, wrapping an arm around him. When Tony stiffened at the initial contact, Gibbs thought he’d made a mistake, but then the younger man relaxed, settling into Gibbs’ hold with a quiet sigh. Gibbs rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder; he was unbelievably relieved Tony hadn’t pushed him away.
Gibbs lightly stroked Tony’s stomach. The action was intended to sooth, not to arouse. He tried to ignore the fact Tony hadn’t put his shirt back on, and how much he wished he’d ditched his own before getting into bed.
“You warm enough?” Gibbs asked quietly.
“I am now.” Tony laid a hand over Gibbs’. His long fingers curled around Gibbs’ hand holding it loosely. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Gibbs risked placing a soft kiss on Tony’s shoulder.
He could feel Tony taking a deep breath as well as hear it. Gibbs waited. He knew it was cowardly, but he wanted Tony to be the one to start. He needed Tony to be the one to start because Gibbs really had no idea what to say.
“Is this…Is this because…I mean, I don’t... You never…I didn’t think…” Tony sighed heavily. Even not being able to see his face Gibbs could readily imagine his frustrated expression.
Tony took another deep breath and seemed to regain a little of his composure. “Tell me this is more than just wanting to get your rocks off. That you weren’t just horny and running high on left over adrenaline and thought it would be easier with me than finding a red-head at two in the morning.”
“It’s more than that.” Gibbs whispered, squeezing Tony’s hand. “A lot more than that.”
Tony didn’t say anything. Gibbs wasn’t sure what to make of his silence. Did it mean Tony believed him? Or did he think Gibbs was just telling him what he’d asked to hear?
“Tony, you know I don’t stay things I don’t mean.” Gibbs needed Tony to believe him. “My kissing you isn’t just me taking advantage of the situation. It wasn’t just because I was horny or dealing with crap from my nightmare. It wasn’t because I thought you were easy. It wasn’t any of those things.”
Gibbs hesitated, struggling with himself to get the words out. “I care about you.” It wasn’t a full blown declaration of love, but the truth in that statement was readily apparent. It was worth repeating. “I care about you, Tony. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t.”
“You care about me?”
There was so much hope and disbelief in that question it made Gibbs wince. Had he really been that much of a bastard? Clearly he had been if for Tony to have to ask.
“Yes, I care about you.”
“Like you do about everyone on the team, right? It’s like a Marine thing that you look after your people?”
“It’s more than that, Tony.” Gibbs assured him.
“Sure it is.”
Tony started to pull away, but Gibbs refused to let go afraid that if Tony moved away he might never let Gibbs get close again. “I have never wanted to kiss Blackadder or Kate. I never wanted to kiss Ziva or McGee. Never wanted to kiss Ducky or Palmer either. Abby is more of a daughter to me than anything else.”
“So, I’m more to you than just a good second?”
“You’re a great second,” Gibbs told him, “and I know I haven’t given you reason to think otherwise, but you are more than that to me.”
Tony nodded and settled in Gibbs’ hold, his back once more flush against Gibbs’ chest. He pulled their joined hands higher, holding them against his chest. “Why now?”
It was a good question. Gibbs sighed. He opted to be completely honest. It seemed to be working well so far. “I’d have probably acted sooner, but I’m a little slow on the uptake.”
“A little slow is being the last one to laugh at the joke, Gibbs.” Tony turned his head to glance over his shoulder and then look away. “This is a lot more than that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Gibbs took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wasn’t just slow. There was a whole lot denial to deal with.”
Tony snorted. “Didn’t think you were the sort to lie to yourself.”
“Usually I’m not.” Gibbs squeezed Tony’s hand. “But then, I don’t usually have to handle having to rethink what I thought I knew about myself.”
“Never been interested in a guy before?” There was a wealth of curiosity in that statement.
“Never one I worked with, no.” Gibbs bit his lower lip. “While I was in the Corps I was with Shannon, so none of the guys in my unit or anyone else for that matter ever appealed to me.” He swallowed hard. “And after one less than stellar fling with a coworker, I labeled everyone I worked with as off limits.”
“Rule 12.”
“Yeah, rule 12.” Gibbs rested his cheek against Tony’s shoulder. “Worked pretty good…until you.”
“You’ve been interested in me that way for awhile?”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
Gibbs bit his lower lip. He knew exactly when he’d realized he was in love with Tony, but there was no way in hell he was going to tell him he’d realized it within the last few days. He opted to tell him when he’d first realized Tony was more to him than just another teammate, was more than just his second in command.
“It was probably the day we met, but I think I first realized you were more than just a teammate to me when I was in Mexico. I knew something important was missing. I thought it was memories, maybe the job, or maybe it was DC and my boat. Turns out it was you.” Gibbs swallowed hard, hiding his face against Tony’s shoulder. He never should have left, but at the time he couldn’t stay.
“When I got back, things were different. I was still missing pieces so I wasn’t sure exactly what was different. I thought maybe I wasn’t remembering things right. You didn’t stop by the house with beer and pizza. You didn’t stay late at the office to keep me company. I thought maybe those weren’t memories at all but wishful thinking…just me wanting us to be friends. But if they were real memories, you weren’t doing it any more. So then I thought you were mad at me for coming back. That you resented me for demoting you.”
“Was mad you didn’t say goodbye when you left.” Tony admitted softly, old hurt apparent in his voice. “And I was pissed for how you came back, but I was glad you were home.”
Gibbs felt his face flush. He was glad Tony couldn’t see him. He’d been an ass about how he’d announced his return. There was no excuse for what he’d done.
Tony shrugged one shoulder. “If I really resented the demotion, I’d have taken the team lead position in Rota when Jenny offered it.”
Gibbs blinked. “She offered you Rota?”
“Yeah.”
Tony turned down Rota? Gibbs was stunned. He’d known there were other offers, Morrow mentioned it to him, and he suspected Vance might be considering making one, but he hadn’t realized Shepard made any. When Tony had told Tammy he stayed in DC at NCIS for him, Gibbs thought that meant Tony hadn’t been actively looking for a job. He hadn’t realized the younger man had literally been offered a promotion and refused.
“I wasn’t around, not because I was pissed at you, I was--“
“You were working undercover.” Gibbs placed another soft kiss on Tony’s shoulder hoping the action would convey both his understanding and acceptance. He wasn’t angry about the La Grenouille op any more. Well, not angry with Tony at any rate. He was still pissed at Shepard over it.
“I didn’t realize what was going on. I should have noticed. I should have been there for you…before… during… after.”
His being in Mexico might work as an excuse for the before. But during the op was just Gibbs failing to pay attention. And so much of what happened afterwards wasn’t necessary.
At the time Gibbs hadn’t realized how badly he’d let Tony down. He was just so angry about a covert operation going on right under his nose, he’d lashed out, unfairly blaming Tony for what was really Shepard’s doing.
He now understood that some of his anger and hostility was because he was jealous. Jeanne Benoit was clearly more than just an undercover assignment to Tony. Tony had broken rule 10--never get personally involved with a case. At the time it hadn’t mattered to Gibbs that he was guilty of breaking that rule more than once himself, he felt justified in being angry and finding ways to punish Tony.
And he was jealous that Tony had shifted allegiance, even if only temporarily, to Shepard. He’d been Gibbs’ loyal St. Bernard for so long, he’d forgotten it wasn’t simply a given that Tony would always follow him. He’d forgotten Tony wasn’t ‘his agent’. He didn’t work just for Gibbs. It had been an eye opener; one Gibbs resented. He’d let that resentment affect how he worked with Tony, how he treated him, how he thought of him.
“I should have been there for you.” It wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was an admission that he was wrong--about a lot of things. Gibbs knew Tony understood when he raised their joined hands enough to place a light kiss on Gibbs’ knuckles.
“It’s okay.” Tony shrugged one shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Gibbs snorted. Of course it was his fault. Tony shouldn’t let him off that easy. “If I hadn’t left--”
“Can we let that go?” Tony cleared his throat. “Not exactly something I want to think about…not now, please. Okay?”
He didn’t want to argue with Tony--not now, and not about that. Letting this go wouldn’t hurt anything. It wasn’t like Gibbs wouldn’t keep trying to make up for it.
“Sure, Tony.”
“Thanks.”
Gibbs didn’t think that was something he should be thanked for. Rather than address that, he forced himself to pick up the thread of what he’d been saying before, knowing it was important to explain as much as possible. He owed Tony that much. And he hoped it would be enough to convince him Gibbs was telling the truth. That it would be enough to convince Tony he wasn’t looking for a quick fuck. That Tony was a keeper, someone worth forever.
“After all that, well, you know it took awhile things to get back to normal. Or at least what passes for normal for us.”
Tony huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah.”
“I thought we’d gotten back to where we were….before I lost my mind and went to Mexico. And I didn’t want to ruin that. You were coming around more. And we seemed to be doing okay. I could ignore how I felt. I could pretend it was enough.”
Gibbs sighed softly. “I’ve been denying myself things for a lot of years, Tony. I’m good at it. Ducky says I wallow. That I make myself unhappy because I don’t think I deserve to be happy.”
Gibbs rolled his eyes as he remembered Ducky’s accusation. It had been during his third divorce. He wanted to dismiss it as just so much psycho babble bullshit. Except that everything Ducky said made sense. Gibbs mentally slapped himself. Babbling about this wasn’t going to help. He needed to focus and tell Tony the important stuff.
“The team was working well together. It was good. And I was content to leave things like that.” Gibbs winced at how bad that sounded. It was the truth, but it made him sound selfish and like all that mattered was the job. It always made him sound like a coward, which might be the truth, but not something Gibbs really wanted to admit to.
“I mean--“
“I know what you mean.” Tony cut him off. “Just being on the team, getting to do what I love, being the guy you rely on, getting to see you--“ Tony stopped abruptly. He glanced over his shoulder making eye contact for a moment before looking away again. “I know that sometimes it is easier to work with what you know. Safer. Rocking the boat isn’t easy. Not always smart either.”
“Yeah.”
Gibbs knew playing it safe was something they both understood. For different reasons maybe but it was essentially the same understanding. Silence filled the room for several minutes.
Tony sighed. “So what changed? What made it worth the risk?”
“Vance sent you away.” Gibbs could hear the waver in his voice and hated how plaintive he sounded. “Four months, you were gone. It was like I was missing my right arm. Nothing was right. Nothing. And I couldn’t fix it.”
Gibbs pulled Tony closer to him, breathing in his scent. “I missed you. I kept wanting to call, but I couldn’t figure out how to justify it or explain it.”
“What the hell was I supposed to say?” He gave a half hearted, strangled laugh. “Tony, I am misusing government equipment because I want to hear you talk about movies I’ve never seen because the silence is so damn loud I can’t think straight. I miss seeing you every day. I miss having beer and pizza. My new senior agent is a good guy but I hate him because he’s not you.”
Gibbs choked back a sob remembering damn lonely he’d been then. “You’d have thought I lost my mind. Hell, I thought I was losing my mind.”
Gibbs cleared his throat. “Getting the team back. Getting you back. I thought it would be okay. I thought things would go back to normal again. But,” Gibbs took a shaky breath, “I didn’t want to go back to normal. Not that I knew what I wanted, or was willing to admit what I wanted to myself…I just didn’t …I wasn’t…I couldn’t…then I fucked up on that damn Domino case.”
Gibbs tightened his hold on Tony. “I didn’t want to admit it, but I fucked up. And you were right to be pissed. You were right to get in my face. But when it was over, all I could think was this time you were going to leave.”
Tony shifted, turning in Gibbs’ hold to look at him. “Why would I leave?”
Gibbs raised a hand to cup Tony’s face. “Because you look at me the same way you look at Vance. Like you are trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or not. Like I might just screw you over. ”
“I don’t--“
“You do.” Gibbs countered. “And I understand why you would. I did screw you over.”
“Not the same.” Tony argued. “You didn’t have a personal agenda you were putting into play.”
“Motive was different,” Gibbs conceded, “but the end result wasn’t. You still got hurt.”
“It was just a couple of bruises. I’ve had worst.”
“Not the point,” Gibbs shook his head.
“You didn’t blow up my car.” Tony smiled. “And I have to tell you, I’m glad because I’m not sure my insurance company would pay out a third time.”
As much as he appreciated Tony’s humor, he wanted him to take this seriously. “Tony--“
“Gibbs, we already covered this.” Green eyes met blue. “You explained it to me. And while I would have liked to know all that then, I know it now. It’s okay. You admitted you were wrong. And you aren’t going to do it again, are you?”
“No.”
“Then it’s okay.”
Gibbs searched his face. He couldn’t understand how Tony could just forgive him so easily. But he couldn’t see any dishonesty in his face. “You really mean that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Gibbs felt an overwhelming sense of relief. “You aren’t going to leave?”
“Was this…the trip to Chicago, the one room…was all that to make sure I stayed?”
“I needed to find a way to talk to you.” Gibbs smiled ruefully. “I thought I stood a better shot of doing it here. Vance was going to send us anyway, I just made sure he only sent you and I and that we had a room together.”
“So the being upset over the one bed was just--“
“The one bed thing…that wasn’t actually something I planned on.” Gibbs sighed. “Didn’t plan on the crappy heater either.”
Tony laughed quietly. “Always heard some of the best things in life don’t go according to plan.”
Gibbs breath caught for a moment. Shannon had said something similar to him when his grand plans for a romantic proposal had fallen through. Instead of a candle lit dinner with a beautifully set table and a nice meal, the house had nearly burned down and he’d dropped the ring in the salad plate. She’d laughed until she cried and said yes.
None of his exes would have been able to roll with the punches or have found the humor in the situation. It was just more proof of how much better for him Tony was than the women he’d tried to replace Shannon with. They’d looked like her but not one of them had her spirit, sense of humor, compassion or intellect. Tony had all that in spades.
“Please tell me you’ll give this a chance.” Gibbs rested his cheek against Tony’s. “I’m not sure I could handle going back to the way things were. And I know I couldn’t take you being gone again. I like my life better with you in it. I’m tired of wallowing and I want to be happy.”
Tony pulled back, staring at Gibbs. “I make you happy?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Wow,” Tony whispered. “Don’t think anyone has ever--“ He smiled, warm and gentle, eyes alight with a glow Gibbs hoped to see a lot more of. “You are something else Jethro Gibbs.”
Gibbs kissed him on the lips, claiming his mouth, trying to convey all the love and passion he felt in that one gesture. Enough talking. Words were never his strong point, but this, this he could do well. He could show Tony how important he was, how precious, how utterly irreplaceable. With enough time and effort, Gibbs was sure he could get Tony to understand he was worthy of forever.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs and Tony talk. A lot gets said...and for once Gibbs gets it right.