Dark Chocolate and Red Wine [4/5]
Sep. 18th, 2009 10:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snowdarkred----
Tony didn't know why, didn't know what made him do it, but twenty-one weeks after Ziva left, Tony found himself buying beer and pizza and driving to Gibbs' house. He pulled into the drive way and waited, knowing that Gibbs would come out and get him eventually because Tony couldn't bring himself to enter on his own. He didn't have to wait long. The door to the well-kept residence opened, with Gibbs standing in sharp, slivery contrast to the darkness of the street. Tony felt something squeeze his chest again, like it had before he went to see Brad all that time ago.
Tony rolled down his window and waited, remembering his anger the last time Gibbs approached his car window. Except this time Tony had come to Gibbs, and he was a little more at peace, a little less angry and raw and hopeless than he had been then. Gibbs advanced toward his crappy replacement clunker, his hands held out slightly from his sides non-threateningly, like a cowboy shying up to a skittish colt. Tony hated to think of what caused that caution, that hesitation. Hated to think of the havoc his fucked up-ness usually left behind.
Gibbs leaned against the car, his eyes trained on Tony's face. He didn't say anything, probably afraid to do the wrong thing, afraid to scare him off, like he really was some frightened pony. The older man waited.
"It's been one hundred and forty-seven days since...." Since you chose me over Ziva, since Ziva abandoned us, since I could look you in the eye without my world falling apart. Since I could look at the desk across from me without feeling shame. Anger. "Twenty-one weeks. Seven days in a week."
Gibbs said nothing, but the "congrats, you can multiply," was hanging in the air.
"I...." Tony, who could talk anyone into anything, who could and had charmed drug dealers, serial killers, and celebrities into doing whatever he asked, with no hesitation, couldn't bring himself to end the sentence. So he waited instead, signaling that the ball was in Gibbs' court now.
Gibbs looked at Tony, at the pizza and beer, at the way Tony's hands gripped the steering wheel of his crap car. He sighed and stepped back, giving Tony the space he needed to grab the food and booze and climb out. The silence wasn't the same as the silence he'd become so accustomed to with Kort, but it wasn't bad either. It had a new flavor to it, one different than the slouching, lazy easiness held before the Israel mess. Tony couldn't identify it, and judging from Gibbs' expression, he couldn't either. Tony followed Gibbs up the short walkway to the door, partly because he still didn't feel easy with Gibbs at his back and partly because he wanted to see Gibbs lined in the light of the doorway again.
----
It wasn't some kind of romantic anything. Really. Tony had no desire to chase his boss, his older, gruff Do-as-I-say-Not-as-I-do boss, the man who'd dragged him to hell and back, literally. (Lying was something that came naturally to him, and besides, he was good at it.) They sat on the floor in the basement, backs to the wall, watching a baseball game on Gibbs' tiny television. The boat rose beside them, a beached whale that smelled like sawdust and bourbon. Tony felt himself fall into the old habits, the ones where he felt safe in Gibbs' basement, because nothing--nothing--could hurt him here. It was a childish habit, a childish hope, one that Tony had thought he'd thrown away after Gibbs' abrupt departure to Mexico. He hadn't, of course.
The belief was still there, still hidden inside him, a sharp lump next to Guilt, Resentment, and Gratitude. Hope.
Tony sipped beer and ate pizza and let the silence cool, let himself pretend it was a different silence. Let himself pretend it was the same slouching laziness he'd had before, not the brittle and edgy one he had now. They finished the game and pizza and beer, and Tony left before he could spend the night.
I will not, he told himself. Kate is dead, Paula is dead. Jeanne is gone, Ziva. I will not.
He left before he could ask to spend the night.
----
It seemed like each day got a little brighter, each breathe a little easier. McGee stopped giving him that look, the one where pity and regret overwhelmed his eyes. Tony was very thankful for it, because he'd rather have McGee pissed off and awkward than pitying and awkward. Anger Tony could deal with, because it was still there in his chest. Only now it was shrinking and changing. Now he could look at Gibbs without the burning need to simultaneously run away from and punch the bastard.
His anger was mostly directed at Ziva now, because she made Gibbs make that horrible choice, after all the trouble she went through to make them all like her, care for her. She came in, slid into Kate's spot, and acted like she was a part of the team only when it suited her. She played them all, and while Tony could understand it, he could never, ever forgive it. Not so much for his own hurt, but for the others' sake. For McGee, who Tony had been trying so hard to protect and toughen up. For Gibbs, who had lost so much already. For Abby, who had finally accepted Ziva into their mixed up family. For Ducky and Palmer and....
His family, torn apart once again, ripped at the seams by one of their own, who might never have actually been theirs in the first place.
----
Tony was aware of the stares, the whispers, and how he couldn't walk into the break room without the conversation falling silent. It wasn't okay, because while he'd always been the center of the gossip web, right now he wasn't giving them anything to talk about. His turn around just made the gossips talk more, made them speculate as to what exactly caused his “miraculous” change from wasted wreck to...average agent. He didn't really care that they talked about him so much that he knew that it bothered McGee and Abby and the rest of his team. The things being said were increasingly negative as every sex scandal they thought he might have been a part of was raked over and laid out in the open like a deer head on the wall of a hunting lodge.
Gibbs followed him with his eyes whenever he returned from his coffee break, over-sweetened drink in hand. Gibbs was making sure that the talk didn't bother him, ready to leap in and smash heads if it did. But it didn't bother him so much as it bothered his team and he would do anything for his team. His poor, broken family.
Gibbs believed that apologies were a sign of weakness. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. Always look out for your own.
He didn't know what had triggered this wave of protectiveness in Gibbs. He wasn't sure he wanted to. The peace in the office was a relaxing change from months filled with tension. And if the only downside was dealing with Gibbs on the warpath of all non-apologies, Tony was fine with that.
Really, he was. Even if it made his heart pound and his stomach twist and the whole damn world tilt on its axis. Gibbs chose the high road this time; he'd learned his lesson from the Apartment Invasion Mess of Inappropriate Nosiness and Protectiveness. He kept back a little and let Tony handle the gossip mongers, and he had a word with McGee and Abby so that they wouldn't get involved.
Tony had been by himself too much in the last few months. It didn't matter that he'd spent time with Baylee and Brad and Trent and all the others. He'd been alone inside his own head and he had to work himself out of the rabbit hole on his own, or he'd never feel truly awake.
----
Tony stopped the gossip. And no, he never told anyone how.
----
Tony got the letter a week into his new good mood. There was no return address, and Tony stared at it for fifteen minutes before pulling it out of his box. The smooth paper of the envelope fit perfectly into his hand as he carried it up all three flights of stairs to his apartment. He held it out by his fingertips, away from his body by the whole length of his arm. As if that would help stave off a bio weapon attack. Once he was inside his living room, he set it down on his otherwise bare coffee table and stared at it some more, wondering if he could smell the plague over the musk of the cardboard boxes.
Should he open it? Throw it away? Send it to Abby for testing?
He examined the forwarding address more carefully and than laughed as it clicked. Kort. That was Trent Kort's handwriting on the envelope, and of course he wouldn't have a return address. The man was still on assignment. What was he doing sending Tony semi-anonymous snail-mail?
Tony opened the letter, pulled out the folded paper, and began reading.
Tony,
If you're reading this, that means you worked up the courage to open it. Do not worry; there is
no plague hidden with these pages. I find myself with a break in missions, and I couldn't help
but wonder if you would be interested in flying over here. I know you have more than enough
time saved up at work for a two week vacation to Italy?
Kort
There was a plane ticket attached. Tony flipped open his cellphone and texted a simple reply to the number Kort had left at the end of the other letter.
Y.
----
Tony got his leave time approved by Director Vance since he didn't trust Gibbs not to lock him in a closet and throw away the key. Vance, of course, didn't say anything; he chewed on a toothpick and raised both eyebrows in Tony's direction. Tony thought it made the director look like a moron, but he kept that part to himself.
Tony knew that Vance was using his vacation as a move to “keep Gibbs in his place,” but he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd come a long way in forgiving both himself and Gibbs for the Ziva mess, but it would be an equally long time still before all was forgotten. Besides, the day Gibbs couldn't handle himself against Vance was the day Tony joined the FBI and did the cancan with Fornell and that Sacks asshole. In short—not bloody likely.
He returned to his apartment, packed two weeks' worth of clothes, sunscreen, and condoms, and he recorded a new message on his home answering machine:
Hey! You've reached Tony's phone. I'm just letting you know that I'm busy enjoying the pleasures of southern Italy and won't be giving a fuck until I get back. Don't leave a message.
----
Italy was warm and peaceful. Tony and Trent spent their days having sex on the private balcony of their hotel room and browsing the flea markets. Tony found a black corset in Abby's size that he just had to buy her and a bow-tie that was perfect for Ducky. McGee got another pipe, and he discovered a jacket that Kacia would kill for. Tony mused over what to get Gibbs, but he couldn't think of anything and besides, he'd never gotten the man anything before. He went with the safe choice: alcohol.
----
Hey! You've reached Tony's phone. I'm just letting you know that I'm busy enjoying the pleasures of southern Italy and won't be giving a fuck until I get back. Don't leave a message.
(Beep) Omigod Tony! Why didn't you tell me you were going to Italy! You're in big trouble, mister! Call me!
(Beep) Uh, Tony, what were you thinking? Gibbs is pissed. You better call.
(Beep) Anthony, my dear boy, while it's nice to know that you're taking time off, you really should have told us. Jethro is not pleased with your disappearing act. You should call him.
(Beep) DiNozzo, where the hell are you!? When you want time off you clear it with me, got it? Not Vance.
(Beep) Seriously, Tony-man, call me! Call Gibbs! Call someone! I'm starting to think that that kinky Kort dude is doing something hinky to you...well, hinky-er than kinky sex...if that makes any sense..... Anyway, call or send me an email. If you don't, I will.... I'll have NCIS toss your place!
(Beep) Hey DiNozzo, it's Kacia. I hope you're enjoying your time in Italy. Send me an email when you get back.
(Beep) DiNozzo! You not back yet? Get your ass stateside!
(Beep) Tonioooo! It's Britney, remember me? From that bar? Damn I'm druuunk.... Why haven't you called me? You better not be with another girl you bast--[message has been deleted]
(Beep) Hey, Tony. Things are crazy here! You should cut your kinky vacation plans short. Bossman's on the warpath.
(Beep) DiNozzo! When I tell you to get your ass stateside, I mea—[message has been deleted]
(Beep) Tony, it's Abby. Ziva's back.
----
Tony only slightly abused his clearance to catch a military transport back to the United States. Really. And it was too bad there were only soldiers and no hot flight attendants.
Part Five--->>
Comments = love & puppies!
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-09-20 03:04 pm (UTC)The belief was still there, still hidden inside him, a sharp lump next to Guilt, Resentment, and Gratitude. Hope.
I like this also, and plotwise, you totally surprised me at the end of this chp
no subject
Date: 2009-09-20 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-25 11:26 pm (UTC)I'm glad he had more fun, hot, pressure-free time with Kort, lying around and having sex all day, with minor interruptions for food and shopping :).
The voice mails made me smile... except for that last one. What will Ziva's reappearance mean for Tony, for the team, for Kacia?
Laura.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-25 11:34 pm (UTC)Kacia has been surprisingly popular. I started a sidestory set during this story that's about her (well, actually, it's about Tony and Gibbs' relationship, but it's from her point of view....)
I'm so happy you're liking this....