Rain clouds broke up and collided at infrequent intervals, alternately blocking the sun and letting it shine through. The wind picked up and died down at unpredictable moments, making Gibbs glad he'd worn his jacket. His brisk pace wasn't quite enough to keep him warm when the windy moments coincided with heavy cloud cover.
He glanced skyward, frowning in annoyance. It was as though the weather couldn't quite make up its mind. Gibbs could sympathize. He felt like his thoughts were just as chaotic as the weather.
He hated not knowing his own mind. It was frustrating. He wanted to punch something. Gibbs seriously eyed one of the trees, pulling back his fist before slowly uncurling his fingers. Hitting a tree would be stupid, hurt like hell and wouldn't solve anything. He sighed and continued walking.
Gibbs remembered being interested in men. When he was young, before Shannon, he'd experimented. Hand jobs, blow jobs, one night stands; just a little fun, stress relief, nothing that spoke of commitment or could be considered serious.
Hell, man or woman, he hadn't been serious about anyone but Shannon. From the moment he'd met her, she was all he ever wanted. She'd been his whole world. Her and Kelly. But then they were gone and he was on his own again.
By all accounts he'd grieved and moved on, gotten married again?three times. He closed his eyes, taking a slow deep breath. It seemed impossible, but he remembered the weddings. All three wives had looked stunning in their white dresses. And each one looked like Shannon?red hair, blue eyes, pale complexion, beautiful smile. But that was where the similarities ended. It was all superficial. Certainly not enough to build a life together on, and definitely not enough to hold one together.
Looking back on it, with the emotional distance his recent bout of amnesia gave him, Gibbs could honestly say he wasn't surprised any of those marriages ended badly. What did surprise him was that he'd ever been niave enough to think they stood a chance. Had he been that damn lonely? Had he been so desperate he'd made three women stand-ins for the love he'd lost?
Gibbs shook his head. There wasn't anyone he could even ask those questions too. He didn't know, and he was confident he'd never admitted to anyone else how he might have felt about his three wives. That didn't even begin to cover the people he'd dated in between. And to top it all off, for the first time in years, he was being forced to acknowledge an interest in a man.
This attraction to Tony was something he'd obviously been feeling for the last few years. It definitely wasn't new. Of that much he was certain. It was just his remembering it now that made it seem new.
Christ, what a mess. He rolled his eyes, walking faster. Could his life get any more complicated?
Tony didn't look anything like Shannon. Yet Tony had more in common with the love of his life than anyone he'd been interested in or involved with since her death. He was intelligent, articulate, entertaining, athletic, warm, optimistic and damn good looking.
Gibbs scowled. This wasn't helping. Tony was on his team for God's sake. Tony had faith in him, trusted him. He shouldn't...couldn't abuse that.
Would it be abuse if Tony was interested in him the same way? Was willing to break rule 12 and take a chance? Gibbs blinked. Where the hell had that thought come from?
As far as he knew Tony was a skirt chaser. He remembered clearly Tony admitting he'd had a lot of short term relationships. But 'short term' didn't mean exclusively women. Gibbs' own sex life was a good example of that. One night stands were the definition of ?short term'. They didn't have to mean Tony was only involved with or interested in women.
Just because he talked about women and didn't mention men didn't mean anything either. Gibbs never told anyone he had a few one night stands with men. He didn't talk about those things for a number of reasons. His family had been one. His career was another.
Tony's not talking about an interest in men didn't mean he had a problem with the idea. The younger man declared prejudice in any form was ugly, denying being homophobic even has he teased McGee about being gay. Tony's mocking McGee with regard to his masculinity hadn't been cruel or mean. It was his normal way of harassing the junior agent. Gibbs thought it was good for McGee. The younger agent needed to learn how to be comfortable in his own skin. Learning how to handle Tony's teasing and pestering was also giving him the skills he'd need to stand up to suspects and his superiors when necessary.
The name Voss made Gibbs pause, stopping to put together the pieces. He frowned as details of the case slowly came back to him. Tony had been upset about kissing a woman who was really a man. But he wasn't as upset as Gibbs expected a true homophobe to be.
The issue wasn't really about homosexuality. Transgender was another matter entirely. Hell, Gibbs had no issues with gays or lesbians, but the idea of changing one's gender still made him flinch. And kissing someone who'd killed a friend was definitely enough to bother anyone.
Gibbs remembered pointing his gun Voss. His aim had been dead center on his..her...whatever...forehead. He'd been pissed about Pacci's death, but Voss' attack on Tony was what brought that rage to the forefront. He'd have shot her and not felt guilty about it. No one hurt one of his. No one.
Gibbs' hands clenched into fists. That hadn't been the only time Tony's life had been in danger. Images flashed in his mind's eyes: Tony being pushed from a plane; Tony leaning forward over a steering wheel, lots of blood on the window; a sewer and a woman intent on mayhem; blue lights and glass walls, no way to reach him time running out; a rooftop, blood on Tony's face, Kate staring sightlessly up at a cloudless sky.
Gibbs shuddered. He reached out for a tree, needing the support to brace himself. Maybe this was why he'd never consciously acknowledged being attracted to Tony. The thought of losing him nearly sent Gibbs to his knees.
While Tony was mentally off limits, he could ignore the low grade hum of attraction. He could pretend that Tony wasn't his type. Gibbs could write it off as something else. He could overlook the desire to be more than just Tony's boss.
Gibbs grimaced, pushing himself away from the tree and started walking again. He suddenly realized Tony leaving without saying anything a few months ago had been a trigger. He was okay pretending that he wasn't interested in the younger man as long a he always knew where he was. As long as the job and Gibbs were the main focus of Tony's life, he could ignore the stories about girlfriends, coeds and actresses Tony thought were goddesses. As long as he knew Tony would be there, on his team, within easy reach, he could subjugate the hunger for more.
Gibbs ruthlessly abused his authority. He had made Tony stay late, come in early, cancelled leave. He did whatever it took to make certain Tony was where he belonged? with Gibbs.
But Tony doing an end run around him to get a week off, leaving without telling him where he was going, changed the dynamics. Gibbs was forced to come to terms with the idea that he wasn't the only person whose wants and needs mattered. Tony could leave any time he chose to. If Gibbs couldn't force Tony to stay?he had to make sure he wanted to.
He struggled with how to accomplish that task without giving away his true feelings. Gibbs stopped by Tony's place a few times for dinner and a movie. The memory of those all too infrequent evenings made him smile. It was almost painful to be so near and yet maintain the reserve the tentative friendship they'd established required. But he wouldn't have missed them for the world. Gibbs had forgotten how enjoyable sharing a meal could be. And he loved Tony's commentary on the movies. What was annoying and inappropriate at the office made him laugh in Tony's apartment. It had been so tempting to just show up every night despite the agony of having to keep his distance.
Tony never once mentioned his visits at work. Gibbs liked to think the Tony considered them special, not to be shared with the rest of the team. But for all he knew Abby, McGee and Ziva dropped by to spend time just as often as he did. He had to bite his tongue several times to keep from letting jealousy take control of his mouth and demand to know who else Tony welcomed into his home so easily. Gibbs stifled the instinct, not wanting to jeopardize the budding friendship between them. Now that he had it, he didn't want to lose it.
Gibbs handed out a few more compliments and tried not to ride Tony quite so hard. He didn't think he'd done a very good job with it, since no one seemed to notice any change in his behavior. It was so hard to not fall back into old habits.
He let Tony take the lead on a few more things. Gibbs tried to show his faith in the younger man's judgment and abilities. He attempted to let him truly fill the role of senior agent on the team, but couldn't quite bring himself to relinquishing control completely. Except for one case when it was simply impossible not to.
The former cop showed he had damn good instincts when it came to the school hostage situation. He'd figured out how to let Gibbs know the boy's mother was dead without actually saying so. He'd kept the director from forcing his hand and ordering the death of a child. Tony found a way to end the conflict that was decidedly creative. Gibbs didn't care if his inspiration had been a movie. It worked. That was all that mattered in the end.
Gibbs strode uphill, pushing himself to go faster. Even if Tony was interested in men, that didn't mean automatically mean he'd be interested in Gibbs. Just because Tony was his type didn't mean he was Tony's.
Gibbs shook his head. He had ten years on Tony. Not an insurmountable number. Other couples had bridged similar age gaps, but Tony had always expressed an interest in younger women. He might find older men as unappealing as he seemed to find older women.
He grimaced. Not like he could just ask, "DiNozzo, if you were into men, what sort of guy would turn your crank?" God, he didn't even want to try and picture how Tony would react to that. Fear...anger...denial? All were far from ideal, and none were what he'd be hoping for.
It wasn't strictly verboten to ask about an agent's sexuality, but damn close. Gibbs was positive if he broached the subject Tony's initial reaction might just be to start polishing his resume. Assuming he didn't bust Gibbs one across the mouth first.
"Hell, he's been at NCIS longer than he's been anywhere else," Gibbs mumbled to himself. "Don't want to be the reason he leaves."
Tony's earlier comment about having been in Baltimore for two years being the reason for accepting Gibbs' job offer suddenly made sense. It was like Tony had an internal time limit, a clock ticking that told him it was time to go. So what the hell made NCIS special? Why did he break form and stay?
Gibbs wished he had Tony's file with him so he could check if what he thought he remembered was accurate. He couldn't recall any of Tony's previous employers expressing any dissatisfaction with his performance. All of them seemed genuinely sorry to see him leave.
He had no idea what made Tony decide to leave those other positions, and none of his superiors seemed to know either. He had no idea why Tony stayed at NCIS. Damn. How the hell was he supposed to keep him on his team if he didn't know what made him want to be there?
A feeling of deja vu hit Gibbs. He'd worried about a similar lack of insight before; when Tony had taken that week off. Gibbs hadn't known why he'd left or where he went. At least now he knew where he went, but Gibbs still didn't know why. Gibbs grimaced, realizing anew not all the gaps and holes in his memory he had were from the explosion.
He wondered if the rest of the team knew why Tony had left then. Did any of them know why Tony stayed with NCIS? Gibbs snarled. It made him angry to think Tony trusted someone else more than he trusted him.
Several large drops of water rained down from a large oak tree, hitting him squarely on the head, and forcibly reminding Gibbs of where he was. It made him smile. Tony said no one else from the office had been to the cabin or knew about Mike and his family. Tony trusted him enough to share this refuge. That counted for a lot.
But if Tony trusted him with this, why not the rest? Gibbs shook his head. Trust worked both ways. He trusted Tony to watch his six on the job but never told him about Shannon and Kelly. Tony was smart enough to know Gibbs was excluding him from certain things, harboring secrets and shutting him out. He was smart enough to understand the lack of trust doing so implied and respond accordingly.
Gibbs grimaced. He wasn't going to get by with half measures any longer. He couldn't keep holding Tony at arm's length about his past and feelings while expecting the younger man to be an open book. Hell, he shouldn't have been able to get by with them for this long.
He was damn lucky Tony was willing to accommodating for Gibbs short comings. Anyone else with his instinct, knowledge and skill would have pushed to head his own team a long time ago.
Gibbs nodded to himself. Even without all the pieces, he knew he didn't want the next five years to go the way the last five had. It was time he took more of a risk. He'd have to make the first step, suspecting Tony couldn't or wouldn't.
Gibbs followed the trail as it made a sweeping curve back toward the cabin. He wasn't sure he's solved anything. He knew more than he had when he started, and he'd made some sort of decision. Forming an action plan would take a little longer, but his sore body and aching head were letting him know that walking much further wasn't really a good idea. He'd been walking for nearly two hours; too much longer and Tony would come looking for him anyway.
It was heartening to know Tony cared enough to come looking for him. Hopefully Gibbs could figure out how much Tony cared. Did he care for him just as his boss, as a friend, with an eye for something more? There had to be a way to determine that without ruining what they had now, or sending Tony off looking for a new job.
As Gibbs navigated the slippery downward slope he suddenly realized he'd made another decision. Keeping Tony at NCIS was only important if Gibbs was going to stay. He laughed quietly to himself. He hadn't ever seriously considered quitting. The powers that be might be assholes, but the men and women in the service needed someone to look out for their best interest. Gibbs was needed. And he needed to be there.
He wasn't ready to retire. Franks might be able to hang out on the beach doing nothing, but Gibbs couldn't see himself doing that. Maybe in a few years?if he had someone to share it with. But alone, bitter and angry?no, hell no. If he was going to that, he'd have done it when Shannon and Kelly were killed.
Unfortunately, that upped the ante with finding out how Tony might feel. He wanted them both to stay at NCIS. So he'd have to be careful. Do this right. Whatever the hell he did. Gibbs was damn glad he'd had a lot of practice handling stressful situations.
"Don't fuck this up, Marine." Gibbs ordered himself in a harsh whisper. He wasn't sure he'd get a second chance. Doing it right the first time was the only option.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs takes a walk, and does some thinking
Chapter End Notes:
spoiilers all over the place. Too numerous to mention.