Tobias Fornell glared at the paperwork on his desk. He hated paperwork with a passion at the best of times, and this definitely was not the best of times. When his phone rang he snatched it up, half-hoping it would be a new case that would drag him away.

“Fornell,” he said gruffly. He was surprised to hear Tony Dinozzo’s voice.

“Hey Tobias, it’s Tony.” Fornell couldn’t help thinking that the NCIS agent sounded tired. Not that it was unexpected; Gibbs had “retired” two months earlier and Tony had been trying to play catch-up ever since.

“Tony,” he replied, softening his tone. “What can I do for you? Finally decided to come to your senses and accept my job offer?” he asked, only half-joking. While the other man had never said anything to him, he knew that Tony had been having a hard time since Gibbs left.

“Sorry Tobias, but I’m not quite ready to come over to the dark side yet,” Tony replied. Fornell was pleased to hear a trace of humour in his voice. “No, I’ve got a couple of tickets for the Orioles’ home opener tomorrow night and wondered if you’d like to make the trek out to Baltimore with me?”

Fornell could sense that there was more to Tony’s request than just a baseball outing, and quickly agreed. After arranging to meet after work the next day the two men chatted about inconsequential things for a few minutes before Tony sighed. The FBI agent could hear Ziva in the background haranguing Tony about how he needed to “get off with your latest bimbo”.

“Gotta go, Renault,” he said softly. “The natives are getting restless. See you tomorrow.” Fornell frowned as he hung up his own phone. Not even Tony’s use of his nickname for Fornell - one that Fornell himself had provided Tony with when they first became friends - could lift the sense of unease the FBI agent was feeling. Maybe it was time to press Tony a little more seriously about coming to work for the FBI.

The next day was bright and sunny, perfect baseball weather, and Fornell found himself hoping that neither he nor Tony would get a case. His hope was realised and after changing into jeans and a sweatshirt he headed off to meet Tony at Camden Yards. His feeling of unease from the previous day increased when he saw the NCIS agent.

“You look like crap, Tony,” he said, scanning the other man’s face.

Tony smiled tiredly. “Long day,” was all he said.

Fornell snorted in response. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. Tony smiled, some of the tiredness leaving his expression.

“Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight I just want to enjoy a baseball game and some beer with a friend. Can we do that, Tobias?” Tony asked, an almost-pleading tone to his voice.

“Sure, Tony,” Fornell replied, clapping a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I’ll even buy the first round.” Tony smiled and Fornell could see the palpable relief in his expression and the way the tension left his shoulders as they headed into the stadium. Tony showed no hesitation as he headed towards the section of stands directly behind first base and Fornell realised that the other man must have been to more than one baseball game there. This was confirmed when the peanut seller, an older African-American man, greeted Tony as he passed them on the stairs.

“Tony, my man, good to see you. Where’s Ernie?” the man said, peering past Tony. Fornell could see Tony’s shoulders stiffen and then slump before he answered.

“Ernie passed away last month, Rufus. This is my friend Tobias,” he said, gesturing to the other man. “Tobias, this is Rufus. He’s been selling peanuts and beer at the games since Camden Yards opened.”

“Was at Memorial Stadium before that, too.” Rufus’ face took on a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry to hear about Ernie, man. He was a great guy. I was looking forward to seeing him again this season.” The two men chatted for a few more moments before Rufus was called away by a customer. Tony was quiet as he led the way down to their seats, and Fornell waited until they were seated and had some beer and snacks before speaking up.

“Ernie?” he asked. Tony said nothing for a moment, but then smiled a warm, fond smile.

“Corporal Ernie Yost,” he said, not looking at Fornell. He concentrated on the players warming up on the field as he continued to speak. “He was a World War Two vet who came into NCIS a few years ago. Ernie was, well, he’d started to forget things from time to time but he was convinced that he’d killed his best friend during the war and wanted us to arrest him for it. Gibbs assigned me to babysit him while we figured out what had happened. Ernie’d been awarded the Medal of Honour for his actions and Gibbs didn’t believe that he could have killed his friend - that gut instinct of his at work I guess. Turns out he was right, as usual.”

Fornell wondered if Tony realised that his voice had taken on a harsh tone when he was talking about Gibbs, but didn’t say anything. After a moment Tony continued.

“Anyway, while I was staying with Ernie we got to talking. I mean, he’d seen so much, and he had all these great stories. And he loved old movies, so we talked about those too,” Tony said, a faraway look coming into his eyes. “A couple of weeks after we’d cleared him, he called me up, said he wanted to check something about the case, but I could tell he was just lonely and looking for someone to talk to. So I met him for dinner and we talked and it ended up becoming a regular thing. And then he tells me that a he used to go to the games with a friend of his, but the guy’s sick and could I do him a favour and come to the game with him.” Tony paused, taking a gulp of his beer.

“Let me guess,” Fornell interjected with a wry smile. “You found out later that there was no friend, that he’d bought the extra ticket with you in mind.”

Tony smiled. “Got it in one,” he said. “Once I found that out I bought us season tickets. But then he got real sick a couple of months ago and...” Tony’s voice faded away and Fornell could tell he was trying to control his emotions. The FBI agent didn’t say anything; just clasped Tony’s shoulder offering him silent support. Tony composed himself and offered up a pale imitation of a smile. “Anyway, I figured if this went well tonight maybe you’d like to use Ernie’s ticket this season.”

Fornell wondered why Tony hadn’t offered the ticket to one of his teammates but, remembering what he’d heard the day before on the phone, chose not to ask. “He sounds like he was a great guy. I’d be honoured.” He knew he’d done and said the right thing when Tony flashed him a brilliant smile and settled in to watch the game.

Later that night as he and Tony headed out of Camden Yards, having watched the Orioles trounce the opposing team, Fornell vowed he would keep a closer eye on the younger man. He had a feeling that Tony was going to need a friend over the next few months. Maybe he’d talk to someone at NCIS on the QT as well. Not Tony’s team mates, that was for sure. Maybe that Palmer kid that worked with Dr. Mallard, he thought…