Michelle Lee hurried past the guards that manned the front desk, flashing her badge at them even as she hastily tucked her shirt into her trousers. She flew up the stairs, tying her hair up as she went and stopping between levels to apply a coat of lipstick. Then she was off again, juggling bag, jacket and three cups of coffee.
“You’re late,” a smooth voice said as she burst from the stairwell into the bullpen.
Michelle whipped around, wisps of hair escaping her pony-tail, coffee cups teetering precariously and eyes widening as she noticed Tony, impeccable as always, leaning against a cubicle.
“Whoa, careful there!” Tony cautioned taking the cups of coffee from her.
“I’m so sorry sir!” Michelle began to say, “I overslept and then the heating wasn’t working and then the family who lives next door lost their daughter and…”
“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down,” Tony held up two hands to show he wasn’t angry. “Sounds like you’ve had a heck of a morning.”
“I really am sorry I’m late,” she managed a wobbly smile and sank gratefully into her chair.
“It happens,” Tony shrugged. He remembered the trouble he’d had when the heating had gone from his apartment and could sympathise completely. “Did your neighbours find their daughter?”
“Yeah,” taking a deep sip from her coffee, Michelle shook out her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. “They’d told her to wait by the car for the school run but she saw a stray cat and decided to follow it. They caught up to her a block or so from the apartment.”
“And do you have somewhere to stay while the heating’s getting fixed?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, my friend lives close to the Yard. She said I could stay with her,” Michelle nodded. “Thanks, boss.”
“You’re a part of this team now Michelle, we look after our own,” Tony grinned at her before leaving to talk to McGee.
And the thing was, Michelle reflected, that he really meant it. She’d only been a part of the MCRT for a few weeks but one thing she’d quickly learnt was that Tony DiNozzo really was as gorgeous as she’d been warned, but he was twice the agent his (already impressive) reputation made him out to be. Under Agent Gibbs the MCRT had reached legendary status. His second in command had survived the plague and could sweet-talk bees out of their honey. Everyone at NCIS knew him as the streetwise, charming former cop who always went out of his way for a friend, and a lot of the other agents considered Tony a friend.
Timothy McGee’s computer skills were quickly becoming the envy of every other team at the agency and Michelle had even heard rumours that the CIA was putting out feelers about a possible transfer over to their international cybercrimes unit. The CIA! McGee was gentler than Tony, he sometimes called her probie, but he was supervising her training so Michelle could understand it. She was the new girl and McGee had never abused his authority. He was a nice guy, witty and a little sarcastic, and clearly well able to decipher Tony’s moods.
That was a skill Michelle was hoping she’d one day learn. For all his charisma and charm, Tony was pretty hard to read. Unless he was around Agent David. Then it was very clear that he was hurt over the other woman’s decision to transfer. Michelle hadn’t worked with Ziva David very long but whilst Ziva was beautiful and undoubtedly deadly, she was also a little cold. She’d never been nasty towards Michelle, in fact, Ziva had never paid much attention to her at all. When it came to Agent DiNozzo, on the other hand, Ziva could sometimes be cruel. Tony seemed to take it in his stride but it was clear that Tony considered Ziva a friend. Michelle didn’t care how damned legendary Agent Gibbs was, for a friend, Ziva’s actions were reprehensible.
“Gear up people!” Tony called as he descended the stairs from the Director’s office and Michelle realised that she’d zoned out for quite a while. “We’re visiting the Army-Navy Club.”
“We got a case Tony?” Tim asked, shouldering his bag and grabbing his badge and gun.
“No probie,” Tony rolled his eyes. “We’re going golfing. Yes, we’ve got a case!”
Michelle smothered a giggle as she followed behind them. Sometimes, McGee and Tony quarrelled like brothers. It was quite a sight to witness.
~O
Gibbs fought the urge to slam his head against a wall. They had been called in when a realtor found a dead body caked with mud in the living room of a house she was showing. Local LEOs found a military ID on him and called NCIS. Gibbs desperately needed coffee and knew that, if Tony had still been his second in command, he’d have had it by now. As it was, he didn’t have a second in command but he did have tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, otherwise known as Brian James and Morgan Harrison.
If he were being fair, Gibbs would have said they were capable but very, very inexperienced. As it was, it had been a couple of hours since he’d had a cup of coffee and Gibbs was not in the mood for being fair. At the moment, James was sketching the scene and Harrison had been sent on a coffee run while Ziva questioned the realtor. Ducky and Palmer were carrying the body out and, with a resigned but internal sigh, Gibbs put himself to work looking for footprints. If Harrison had any sense he’d come back with coffee and information.
As if he could hear Gibbs’ thoughts, Harrison chose that moment to enter, his blond hair windblown and trench coat flapping behind him. To his credit he handed Gibbs’ his coffee and started to talk without being prompted.
“I ran the ID the local LEOs got off the body, boss,” Harrison said. “Lance Corporal James Finn was stationed at Quantico. He went UA when his unit was shipped to Iraq six months ago.”
“Looks like he’s got a pretty good reason for not showing,” James remarked, looking up from his sketchpad.
“You done already?” Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow and James immediately returned his attention to his sketchpad.
“No boss.”
Scowling, Gibbs took another sip of his coffee.
“Find out where Finn was buried,” he said to Harrison before striding from the room.
“It won’t be far Morgan,” Ducky said, taking pity on the slightly bewildered looking man.
“I’ll try the backyard,” Harrison nodded. “Thanks, Dr. Mallard.”
“Just Ducky will do!” The ME called after Morgan Harrison’s retreating back and received a jaunty wave in reply.
With a sigh, Ducky made his way out of the house. With both Tony and Gibbs on a case, he had a busy day ahead of him and, while Ducky was still a little angry with Jethro, it was difficult to avoid conversation with his friend without Tony there to act as a buffer. It was remarkable how much easier working with Jethro was when Tony was around.
~O
The scene was buzzing by the time Tony and his team got to the Army-Navy club. Men and women in fatigues were, well Tony wasn’t sure what exactly they were doing other than messing with his crime scene. Just like Gibbs, Tony didn’t like to share until he knew the other party was competent.
“Are we sharing jurisdiction?” Michelle asked, hopping delicately out of the truck.
“No,” Tony replied, “And that is a very emphatic ‘no’ my little padawan. If anyone tries to tell you any different feel free to inundate them with as much legal mumbo-jumbo as you can muster.”
“Mumbo jumbo?” Michelle echoed, feeling vaguely insulted.
“Tell them whatever you want, whether it’s true or not, as long as it keeps them out of our way,” Tony clarified before turning to McGee.
“Assume a hundred meter blast radius from the bunker,” Tony said. “You start at the woods and Michelle you start at the far side. Bag and tag anything that looks the teensiest bit hinky, even if it’s a feather.”
“Ah,” McGee opened his mouth to speak but found himself stuck on how to voice this particular request.
“Spit it out, McGee,” Tony urged.
“It’s just...poison ivy. I look at the stuff and I break out,” McGee admitted.
“Then take the other end, Michelle, you take the woods,” Tony said, exasperated.
He shooed them away before taking in the scene at a glance, steeling himself for a fight over jurisdiction. He’d tossed and turned all night, eventually falling asleep around four in the morning only to be plagued by dreams featuring explosions and silver foxes. Tony was not in the mood to play nice and, since taking the role of team lead, had become increasingly aware of the reasons Gibbs played up his bastard persona. Jurisdiction rows were one of those reasons.
He ducked under the tape that cordoned off the scene flashing his badge at the uniform that manned the perimeter, and was halfway to the bunker where the explosion occurred when he was stopped.
“Agent DiNozzo?” An older woman with sharp eyes and the kind of body language that suggested she was accustomed to being in a position of authority stepped in front of him. “Lieutenant Colonel Hollis Man, Army CID. I believe your Director called?”
“She did,” Tony said, flashing the Colonel a smile that was effortlessly charming and extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure Colonel Mann.”
“Likewise,” she replied, shaking his hand. Tony suppressed a smirk at the surprise that flashed briefly through her eyes. Playing the bastard was effective but his way was a lot more fun.
“I had EOD sweep the rest of the sand traps,” she continued as they approached site of the explosion.
“They’re called bunkers,” Tony corrected with another smile, “And no offence, but my team will be giving the area another sweep.”
“None taken but I doubt they’ll find anything. We’re very efficient,” Colonel Mann replied. Her smile was probably meant to be a little patronising and a little smug but, to Tony, it just looked forced. The Colonel was off guard and didn’t know how to take his seeming willingness to co-operate. That was good.
“So, were there any witnesses or was Colonel Cooper golfing alone?” Tony asked.
“He was with his son, Josh. The boy says he saw what he thought was a spider web in the bunker,” Hollis said.
“Hm, could have been a trip-wire?” Tony suggested, crouching to examine the immediate area from a level closer to the ground.
“Possibly,” Hollis shrugged. “There’s not a lot to go on with this one but then we’ve got a lot of land to cover.”
“Eighteen holes on a golf course,” Tony said, sensing an opportunity to break the sad news to the Colonel that he really didn’t do joint investigations.
“You want to divide them up?” Hollis suggested.
“Sure,” Tony grinned and stood, towering over Colonel Mann. “We’ll take the crime scene and you guys can take the other seventeen holes.”
“You’re not taking away my crime scene,” Hollis Mann bristled. “This is the Army-Navy club, not the Navy-Army club.”
“With all due respect Lieutenant Colonel,” all traces of humour dropped from Tony’s face and his gaze was as direct and intense as he could muster when he turned it to the woman, “Marines do not fall under Army jurisdiction and we are investigating the death of a marine.”
Colonel Mann was the first to break eye-contact and she was about to say something that was no doubt appropriately scathing when McGee interrupted them.
“Hey! I got some good news boss!” He called as he jogged up to them and it was the honorific that told Tony that McGee was reading his body language and acting accordingly. “Uh-am I interrupting something?” He asked, noting the tension between Tony and Colonel Mann.
“Nope, go ahead Tim,” Tony prompted.
“I found this off the next tee,” McGee said, holding up something small and metal. “It was outside the blast radius so maybe the wind carried it. Looks like part of a detonator.”
“I checked the neighbouring tee’s myself,” Hollis Mann said and Tony didn’t care for what she was implying, neither did McGee.
“Well, maybe you should have checked the trashcans,” Tim said before turning to Tony. “Abby could have a field day with this,” he grinned.
“That’s what I’m counting on,” Tony replied. “Good work, McGee.”
“Thanks!” McGee beamed. Praise from Gibbs had been a rare gem. Praise from Tony was a little more free-flowing but all the sweeter for being so willingly, and earnestly, given.
~O
Gibbs rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the urge to cringe at the tension in his back and shoulders. It was late, after nine pm, and he had stayed behind to do paperwork. It had been years since he’d done his own paperwork but James and Harrison were too new and Ziva, still technically a Mossad Officer, was ineligible for the task.
Putting his signature on the last of the forms, orders for supplies for the truck, Gibbs capped his pen and stacked the papers in his out-box. He’d get someone to drop them down to admin in the morning. Screwing his eyes shut, Gibbs rubbed briefly at the dull throb behind his temple before rising. He holstered his gun and clipped his badge to his belt. Slinging his jacket over his arm, Gibbs shouldered his bag and stepped around his desk, preparing to leave.
The bullpen was mostly dark and empty, with only a handful of people still in the building. Most of them were the night watch and janitorial crew doing their rounds but, as Gibbs strode towards the elevators, movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Turning he found his eyebrows rising at the scene presented. Tony was bent over paperwork, much as Gibbs had been earlier. While there was nothing truly surprising about that, Gibbs still found himself pausing. Gibbs had been stuck at the office most of the day, checking up on the building contractor that had had access to the house and pulling up Corporal Finns service record book.. Well, he’d ordered Harrison to do that but the guy was so wet behind the ears that Gibbs had ended up ‘showing’ him how to get things done fast.
Tony’s team had been in and out of the office, working a joint investigation with Army CID. At first, Gibbs had found himself annoyed. He’d taught Tony better than to assume someone was capable because they had a fancy rank. Then he’d seen the pissed off look on that Lieutenant Colonel who’d been accompanying him and annoyance faded to smug satisfaction. Leave it to DiNozzo to piss someone off without actually giving them valid reason to be pissed off. Gibbs would bet his bottom dollar that the Lieutenant Colonel was waiting for DiNozzo to slip up so she could assume command of the investigation. Well, that just wasn’t gonna happen.
Still, Gibbs tilted his head to the side as he examined the man he’d trained and moulded into an Agent that would most likely surpass Gibbs’ own solve rate one day. Tony’s back was straight, his neck and shoulders forming a solid, graceful line that did not diminish the strength and breadth beneath. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, a look that would have been almost sloppy on anyone else but if there was anything Tony’s upper-class upbringing was good for, it was to give the man an innate sense of elegance and grace which Tony usually downplayed with inappropriate jokes and endless movie references.
Gibbs’ gaze travelled over corded forearms and long fingers that curved easily around a pen. Fingers that could were as at ease curved around a gun as they were dancing over the keys of a piano. He took in the fine bone structure of his jaw and nose, set off by lips that were unexpectedly soft and full when they weren’t stretched into a shit-eating grin or superficial leer. Tony’s eyelashes were also longer and thicker than expected, Gibbs mused. His vantage point meant that he could make out the way the short hair curved, revealing a glimpse of green beneath.
Suddenly, Gibbs realised that he'd been staring at Tony like a fool for the past ten minutes. Scowling, he turned sharply on his heel and left. Whatever happened to avoiding complications?
Tony only looked up once Gibbs had left. He'd felt the older man's stare like hot pokers boring into his skin. Daily interaction with Gibbs usually helped Tony reign in the urge to drape himself all over his boss (it was a classic case of practice makes perfect). Now, however, with Gibbs' sudden and inexplicable urge for space, that daily interaction had been taken away from him and Tony found it increasingly harder to hide the fact that he wanted to suck Gibbs' cock. Rubbing at his bleary eyes, and blaming his wayward thoughts on exhaustion, Tony stood and gathered his things. There was no way he'd be getting any more work done in his current frame of mind.
Waving goodbye to the night-guards, Tony drove home with minimal distractions. It was kinda late and very few people were on the roads, making for hassle-free driving. There was something to be said about long hours. It took the stress out driving and Tony was able to cruise home, idly taking in the DC night life. When he got to his apartment complex, his was the only space still free. Well, that was nothing new there. His neighbours were pretty used to him coming and going at all times of day and he never really gave them reason to complain. Plus, a lot of people liked the idea of living near a federal agent although Tony couldn't really see what security they got out of him being away most of the time.
Toeing off his shoes, Tony used his socked foot to nudge them neatly into place by the door before dropping his keys next to the phone. He padded to his bedroom, laying his badge on the bedside table and putting his gun in the drawer. His suit was shook out and hung back in the closet whilst his shirt went into the laundry basket. Finally, clad in boxers and socks, Tony turned towards his bed and found that he wasn't the least bit tired. Running a hand through his hair, Tony bit his lip. He wasn't in the mood for a movie and really just wanted to sleep. He knew he was to wired for repose, however. The not-quite-an-incident with Gibbs had left him buzzing and, yes, it was really kinda pathetic that one look from Gibbs could reduce him to this. Still, it was too late to go to a bar and pick up a lady so there was only one thing for it.
Retrieving his laptop from the table in his lounge, Tony went back to his bedroom and stripped off his remaining clothes before sliding between the covers. He powered up the computer, accessing his bookmarks in a matter of moments. Tony, like any red-blooded male, had an extensive collection of porn. Anyone who knew him would have rolled their eyes at such a statement, saying that Tony's libido was far more active than that of 'any red-blooded male'. They were probably right but Tony didn't really spend much as much time thinking about his sex drive as he did thinking about sex and, while none of his friends would have been surprised at the vastness of his collection, a lot of them would have been stunned to find out that there wasn't only straight or lesbian porn on his laptop. Tony also had quite the library of gay porn.
He pursed his lips as he scrolled through his tags. He wasn't really in the mood for orgies, or chicks eating each other out. He didn't want to watch mechanics or businessmen or a groom seducing his new wife's brother. What Tony was in the mood for was...ah! There it was. It had only been a couple of weeks ago that Tony had stumbled upon someone who was now his favourite pornstar. Tall, with light blond hair, Brett Muscles was built like a track star, broad and toned without being overly ripped. He had a tattoo on his right bicep and his hair was a little long and slightly shaggy but what really drew Tony to him were his eyes. Brett Muscles had the most amazing pair of baby blues Tony had ever seen apart from Gibbs'. And yes, it was also kinda pathetic that Gibbs was influencing his choice of porn too.
Deciding that his mind (and body judging by his semi-hard cock) had already decided what it wanted, Tony caved to the inevitable and clicked on a marine-themed video. Thankfully, there was minimal foreplay and soon the two men were lip-locked. Gibbs' lips were something Tony had fantasised about too many times to count. They were usually pulled tight with varying levels of annoyance and anger but sometimes it was the effort of holding back a grin that thinned Gibbs' lips. It was the latter that gave Tony a sense of pride little could match because, more often than not, it was him that made Gibbs want to smile.
Especially during the first couple of years. At first, Tony had thought Gibbs was genuinely angry at his antics but, one day, he'd heard a chuckle the older man had released when he thought Tony was out of hearing range. Gibbs had soon learnt not to underestimate Tony's hearing but the incident had been enough to reassure Tony that Gibbs genuinely did think he was funny, he just wouldn't let it show. It seemed as though after Kate's death those incidents had been few and far between.
On screen, Brett Muscles was kneeling in front of the other guy, mouthing at his torso and fiddling with his belt. Tony's hand drifted over his own abdominals, the other hand sliding lower to loosely cup his erection. Gibbs had the most amazing body and Tony knew this because he had been privileged enough to glimpse it once when they'd both needed to shower after chasing a suspect had turned into a very dirty job, one that involved rain, mud and wet dogs. The shower had been brief and Tony hadn't really been able to look (he was too afraid of being caught) but what he had seen had made it necessary for him to keep his back to Gibbs until he'd been able to pull on pants.
Even now, Tony could vividly remember abs more ripped than his own, offset by broad, sculpted shoulders and littered with sparse greyish silver hairs. The image was enough to make Tony's fingers tighten around his dick. As he watched Brett start to suck the other guys cock, Tony let his imagination run wild. Speculating about blowing Gibbs was something he indulged in more often than he should given their working relationship. Come to think of it, maybe now he didn't need to feel so guilty about his fellatio ridden thoughts.
The camera zoomed in on Brett's face, on big blue eyes that looked up the person he was sucking off even as his cheeks hollowed and saliva dripped down the guys dick, and Tony nearly lost it. He increased the speed of his strokes, tightening his grip on the upstroke and letting the fingers of his other hand press more firmly against his chest, scraping blunt nails across his torso and over pebbled nipples. On screen the guy getting his brains sucked out through his cock was leaning against a desk, fatigues around his knees and t-shirt pushed up to expose ripped muscles. His head was thrown back, exposing long lines of throat and Tony idly noted that he'd love to bury his face in Gibbs' neck, to nip and suck at the sensitive skin there until he'd left a mark.
Brett was kneeling, his fatigues pulled tight across his butt and legs, his cock hanging free from his pants. The tip was swollen, angry red and his fingers were long and calloused where they curled around it. Gibbs had rough hands with surprisingly elegant fingers and even the the fleeting thought off Gibbs jacking himself off, of those long elegant fingers curled around his thick dick and blue eyes glazed with lust, was enough to bring Tony over the edge.
He came with a strangled moan arching slightly off of the bed and, when he was done, automatically reached over for the tissues on his bedside to clean himself up before collapsing back against the covers. His heartbeat was loud in the silence of the room and, as he gathered himself, Tony found that pushing away the sudden wave of loneliness was almost second nature by now.
~O
Ziva David was not in a good mood. Gibbs had ordered ground-penetrating radar equipment to do a sweep of the outside of the house Corporal Finn had been found in, equipment that usually had to be booked months in advance. Ziva had managed to get an emergency order out on it but the equipment had only arrived at dawn. She’d waited, all afternoon and evening and morning, with a new guy, for equipment that revealed nothing but a spade! Okay, so it was more than likely the same spade used to bury Corporal Finn but at the moment Ziva did not care. She was dirty and sweaty and desperately needed a change of clothes.
Not bothering to head to the bathroom, Ziva stripped of her jumper to reveal the black vest she wore under. A quick spray of deodorant later and she was pulling on a fresh shirt. She took down her ponytail, brushing it out before putting it up again. When she looked up Brian James who had been her ‘backup’ last night was watching her with obvious envy.
“What?” Ziva asked, raising her eyebrows in question.
“I don’t have a change of clothes,” James lamented, glancing down at his crumpled suit. “I don't have deodorant either.”
Ziva lifted her can of spray and squirted some towards James.
“There,” she grinned. “Now you smell of sandalwood.”
“Great,” James grumbled, brushing ineffectually at his clothes as if that would rid of him of the scent. “I smell like a chick.”
“I am sorry,” Ziva's voice turned dangerous and she stood from her desk, slowly advancing towards James. “Did you just call me a baby bird?”
“No,” James snapped, tired and dirty and irritable. “I called you a chick. What kind of spy doesn't speak English?”
“What kind of federal agent does not have the intelligence to anticipate his own, basic needs?” Ziva shot back, her eyes hardening. Tony and McGee would have known better than to question her abilities.
“The kind who just became a federal agent!” James retorted, splaying his hands in frustration as he stalked from the building.
Ziva watched him go with narrowed eyes, her bad mood lightening only slightly. Tony would have had no complaints in using her deodorant. He had done so before and, really, the scent was neither masculine nor feminine, one of the reasons Ziva wore it.
“You should go easier on him,” a voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned to seen Tim watching her from his desk in the next cubicle.
“You think I was wrong?” Ziva asked, cocking her head to the side. Tim usually saw her side of things.
“Yeah, Ziva,” McGee said. “I think you were wrong. You're the most senior agent on Gibbs' team. You need to help the new guys along, not make life more difficult for them.”
“He insulted me,” Ziva defended herself. “I could not just let that go, McGee.”
“He didn't insult you,” McGee replied. “He responded to your actions the way any guy would respond to your actions. You don't go around spraying people with your deodorant if they're not your friends, Ziva.”
“Tony would not have minded,” Ziva folded her arms across her chest, not seeing what the big deal was.
“Tony,” McGee laughed. “Is the exception to every rule and,” McGee glanced at his watch, “he is going to kick my ass if I don't have something for him soon. Look,” he glanced up at the woman he still kind of thought of as family. “Just go easy on the new guys. Gibbs'll thank you for it.”
“Okay,” Ziva said after a long moment, her eyes lingering on McGee even after he turned back to his computer. It was only when Tony came striding around the corner, Michelle Lee scurrying behind him like a puppy, that Ziva turned away. Thinking about Tony always made something in her gut twist so Ziva usually tried not to think of him.
Unknown to Ziva, both Tony and McGee had been well aware of her scrutiny. The two men exchanged a look, both knowing that the inscrutable look in her eyes did not bode well or the rest of Gibbs team. Tony raised his eyebrows in silent question, having seen the two talk and enquiring as to what was said. McGee merely shrugged. he’d tried to help, he really had. The problem was, Ziva missed the way things used to be even if she would never admit it. It was easy to spot because McGee missed the way things used to be as well.
“McGee, go see if Abby’s finished processing the crime scene evidence, will you?” Tony asked, holding in a sigh. He wasn’t sure if Abby was still mad at him and didn’t really have the time right now to placate her. “Michelle, with me. We’re gonna speak to Madame Director.”
“Sure, boss,” Michelle smiled at McGee as she passed, legs working overtime to keep up with Tony’s long strides.
McGee returned the smile, amusement lighting his face for a moment. Michelle Lee was a Harvard law graduate. She was pretty and petite and highly intelligent but she was also strictly by-the-book. If Tim were honest, she was pretty easy to train in most aspects. She completed paperwork on time and didn’t mind spending extra time on the firing range or in the gym. It was the...creative solutions and thinking outside the box that field agents often had to employ to solve a case that stumped her. Michelle believed very strongly in upholding the law and Tim, still a bit of a rules and regulations guy himself, had turned to Tony for the best way to show her how to get around the rules when the need arose. This case was perfect for doing just that because it would also teach Michelle a bit about working ‘joint investigations’. She was doing well so far, soaking up information like a sponge and not once had she quoted the rules. Maybe they could all go out or drinks to celebrate once this case was wrapped up.
It was only when Tim approached Abby’s lab and heard the slow, melancholy music wafting from the speakers that he realised he probably shouldn’t tell Abby just yet. She hadn’t quite taken to Michelle and was more than likely still at odds with Tony.
“Hey Abs,” He greeted, sighing inwardly in relief when she turned the music of before turning to face him. “Tony wanted me to see if you’ve finished processing the crime scene evidence yet?”
“Why didn’t he come down himself?” Abby replied, eyes widening. “He’s still mad at me isn’t he? Oh Timmy, what am I gonna do? Gibbs is being all grumpy bear and Ziva’s turning in secret-ninja-assassin-extroadinaire again and they two new guys are complete jerks! Did you know they actually asked me if I was sure about my results? Of course I’m sure! And Tony’s still mad at me but I can’t blame him because I really was a jerk, and everything’s changing and I don’t know how to fix it! How do I fix this Timmy!”
“Well,” Tim said, drawing out the word a little. Abby really didn’t deal well with change but this time she was just going to have to learn. “You could start by apologising to Tony.”
“But he knows I didn’t mean it right?” Abby’s eyes were wide and imploring and glistening with unshed tears. “I mean, he has to know that I didn’t actually think he got Gibbs kicked off the team!”
“I’m sure he does, Abby,” Tim said, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. “But he really needs to hear it from you as well. We really haven’t been great friends to Tony lately.”
“Yeah,” Abby nodded, sniffling a little and wiping her eyes with the tips of her fingers. “I’m going to do that, McGee. I’m going to give the best darned apology in the whole darned world.”
“Good,” McGee nodded. Tony deserved the best darned apology in the whole darned world. “Now can we get back to the evidence?”
“Sure, but Tony’s not gonna like what I’ve found,” Abby started to say before pausing and turning to look at Tim with an odd little expression. “McGee?”
“Yes Abby?”
“Thank you,” Abby said, winding her arms around his neck in a quick but tight hug. “You’re a good SFA and an even better friend.”
If Abby noticed the way McGee’s face flamed red from the compliment she didn’t show it but, as she turned back to her spectrometer, her lips curved into an amused and knowing smile. Timmy really was too cute.
~O
His entire body ached and it made no sense at all. Okay so the warehouse had been rigged with a bomb but the army’s explosive ordinance disposal unit had gotten there before it detonated. Tony hadn’t been blown up or shot or stabbed. He hadn’t even had a suspect to chase. And yet his entire body ached.
As his team plus Colonel Mann entered headquarters, immediately heading towards the elevators, Tony fought the urge to slump. Not even his ‘date’ with Mr Muscles last night had been enough to relax him enough for sleep to take hold and Tony had lied in bed most of the night, staring at the ceiling and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. He’d hoped his lunch date with Jeanne would take his mind off of Gibbs and Ziva and Abby and the way everything had seemingly gone to hell in a handbasket but, funny and beautiful as Jeanne was, she was just another assignment and not enough to distract him or long.
As if the fates were conspiring to make his life more difficult, the elevator paused between floors and Tony barely had time to register unreadable blue eyes before Gibbs and his team were sliding into the elevator. Tony shifted, making space and almost said something but then realised he didn’t know what to say.
“Tony, McGee,” Gibbs greeted and Ziva offered her former team-mates a tight smile.
“Gibbs, Ziva,” Tony easily returned the greeting. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Working late, Tony?” Ziva smirked.
“As always, Ziva,” Tony replied, his smile equally mysterious.
A thick silence fell and James and Morgan glanced at each other. Everyone knew Agent Gibbs had relinquished control of the MCRT to Agent DiNozzo and that, when he had done so, Ziva had immediately requested a transfer to Gibbs’ team. Nobody knew the reasons behind the decision but the bond between the former team-mates had been legendary. That was before Gibbs had come out of retirement. Tim was just as uncomfortable but hid it better. He fought the urge to fidget and marvelled, not for the first time, at Tony’s acting skills. Thankfully the elevator ride was brief and the two teams piled out of the elevator, immediately heading in opposite directions without further interaction.
“McGee!” Tony’s voice was sharper than he intended as frustration and exhaustion robbed him of some of his usual levity. He turned to find McGee already at his computer.
“On it, Tony,” McGee said, fingers typing rapidly at his keyboard.
“What’s he doing?” It was Colonel Mann who spoke.
“The CIA refuses to let us talk to their source directly,” Tony explained.
“That doesn’t mean you can hack into their database!” Colonel Mann’s alarm was evident.
“Oh we’re not hacking into their database,” McGee explained and Michelle almost deflated in relief along with Colonel Mann. “We’re hacking into Homeland Security. They host a redundant CIA archive.”
“Alright,” Colonel Mann sighed. “But I have to warn you, my superiors won’t like it.”
“So don’t tell them,” Tony absently offered as he moved to stand behind McGee.
“That would be unethical,” Hollis Mann was clearly disapproving.
“So then tell them,” Michelle took a deep breath and gathered her courage, gazing levelly at the Colonel. “By the time you do I’ll have obtained a warrant for the information. Judge Walker is my Godfather, it won’t be difficult to get.”
Hollis stared at her for a moment and Michelle kept her back straight and chin up. She didn’t raise her gaze causing Colonel Mann to have to stoop slightly to look down at her.
“Fine,” Hollis said, turning and striding from the room. “Let me know if you find anything.”
The three NCIS agents waited until the elevator doors had closed behind the Colonel before allowing their laughter free.
“Good work, Michelle!” McGee said, flashing a grin at her even as he continued to type. He had long since passed Homeland Security’s firewall and was now searching through their database.
“We’ll make a field agent out of you yet, my little padawan!” Tony grinned and clapped her on the back.
“I got something,” Tim said and Michelle and Tony quickly moved to read over his shoulder.
“Mamoun Sharif,” Tony said.
“Lebanese,” Michelle added, “Arrested in Beirut for extortion but co-operated with Interpol. The CIA kept him on retainer and he now owns a convenience store in...Roslyn, Virginia.”
“Okay!” Tony ordered. “Let’s go people! We got ourselves a Lebanese extortionist to interrogate.”
~O
Gibbs fought the urge to take a baseball bat to his computer. He’d been peacefully typing up his report when the screen had blanked. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to figure out that he’d nudged the power cable with his foot and the whole thing had shut down. Now he had to start from the beginning. Gibbs really, really wanted to take a baseball bat to the piece of crap. What the hell was wrong with hand written reports? Why the hell did they have to type the damned things anyway?
“Problems?” Ziva asked, leaning a hip against her desk as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
“You still here?” Gibbs scowled at her. “You that eager to work Officer David I can easily find something for you to do.”
“No, thank you,” Ziva’s expression was carefully neutral as she straightened. “Goodnight Gibbs,”
Gibbs didn’t acknowledge the sentiment as he turned back to his computer. The past couple of days had been hell and Ziva had done little to help. The probies were trying but, in their eagerness to please, ended up making silly mistakes or overstepping their boundaries. Ziva, with her customary lack of tolerance for incompetence, had openly scoffed. Neither James nor Harrison had taken kindly to what was meant to be teasing rather than ridicule and Gibbs could not blame either man. Tony and McGee were special. Tony had enough masks of his own to be able to recognise Ziva’s tendencies to snap for what they were and McGee was so accustomed to dealing with Tony, a man Gibbs himself could never properly read, that Ziva’s defences had been relatively easy to breach. James and Harrison had no such experience and saw the Mossad officer as superior and severely lacking anything resembling tact.
Normally Gibbs would sympathise with Ziva. With Eli David as a father how was she supposed to have an people skills? She was willing to learn and, on any other day, Gibbs would have been willing to teach. Today, however, he was tired and angry. Corporal Finn had tricked two woman out of their money. Had deceived them with such ease it was sickening. Gibbs, who still had gaps in his memories and was feeling a vulnerability that increased his anger and frustration at life in general, could empathise pretty well with people prone to deception right now. He was constantly second guessing the motives of the people surrounding him and that really didn’t do much to help his black mood.
Gibbs was so deep in thought that he didn’t immediately hear the soft ‘ding’ that announced the arrival of the elevator. He did, however, hear the heavy footsteps and soft curses. His eyes narrowed, not immediately recognising the figure that stumbled into the elevator into empty bullpen in the dim lighting. Then green eyes met blue and Gibbs was surging to his feet.
“What the hell happened to you!” Gibbs snarled, crossing to Tony’s side in a handful of strides. He placed a hand at the younger man’s elbow, another on his back as he did a quick evaluation of his appearance. Tony’s clothes were rumpled, dirty and torn in places. There was ash and soot on his face and hair, the dark dust not covering the bruises and scrapes that littered Tony’s body and face.
“Jesus, DiNozzo,” Gibbs exhaled as he helped Tony to his chair. “Why the hell aren’t you at a hospital.”
“I don’t need a hospital,” Tony managed to smile as he struggled to to flinch away from Gibbs. The older man’s hands were hot against arm and back, even through the material of his clothes. “It was just the aftershocks of a bomb, boss. We managed to escape the worst of it.”
“Just the aftershocks!” Gibbs exploded. “Do you hear yourself? Where the hell is McGee? he should have dragged your ass to the damn hospital!”
“Gibbs,” Tony steeled himself, taking a deep breath and putting every ounce of authority he’d ever had into his voice. It came out soft but commanding and was enough to make Gibbs' gaze swivel to him from where it had been drifting towards the elevators once more. Tony almost faltered under the sheer intensity of his reaction to having Gibbs so close once again but, for the millionth time, he thanked his shitty excuse for a father for making him so good at pretending.
“I am fine. I’m just going to file my report and shower and then I have a date with this gorgeous doctor...” He let his eyes glaze over and a hazy sort of smile curve his lips and managed to keep the expression even as Gibbs stood abruptly and stepped back.
“Fine,” Gibbs’ concern morphed into anger at Tony’s lack of attention to his own wellbeing. You want to carry on hurting, go right ahead! I don’t give a damn anymore.”
He didn’t mean it, of course. Tony knew it and Gibbs knew it but Gibbs was angry. He didn’t know where he stood with DiNozzo anymore. He didn’t know where he stood with anyone anymore. Grabbing his coat, Gibbs stormed from the bullpen, and it was only when the elevator doors had closed safely behind him that Tony let himself slump. He buried his face in his hands, blinking back the tears that stung his eyes. He was sore and tired and Gibbs cutting words were more hurtful than they should have been. Tony knew Gibbs was speaking out of anger but right now, he couldn’t make himself believe it.
They had managed to get most of the civilians out of the blast radius and Tony had made sure that everyone else had followed his instructions and got the hell away before they were spotted and the bomb was detonated. He himself had stayed and talked to Abraham, using a cap to hide his face. EOD had arrived before the bomb had detonated but it was close. Tony had been on the edges of the blast radius and was a bit banged up but nothing was broken and everyone else was fine. He had sent McGee and Michelle home and come to hand in his report thinking that the bullpen would be quiet and he could have some time to pull himself together before meeting Jeanne.
Right. Because that had worked out so well. Sighing, Tony scrubbed at his face. Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself before rising. He was due to meet Jeanne in forty minutes. His report would have to wait until the morning until he could hand in the one for tonight’s date as well. At least he had convinced Jenny to keep his profession as an NCIS agent. Yes, it was risky and Renee was likely to be suspect of his daughter’s federal agent boyfriend but, all intel suggested Jeanne was ignorant of her father’s crimes and, this way, Tony could easily explain away his odd hours and the never-ending parade of injuries that defined his career.
With a weariness that soaked to his bones, Tony rose from the chair and made his way towards the showers. He would have time to figure out what to do about Gibbs later but, right now, he still had work to do.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Life continues at NCIS as everyone tries to make sense of their lives.
Chapter End Notes:
Well, here's the second installment. It was kinda difficult to write two cases simultaneously but I'm happy enough with it. Hope you guys feel the same :)