The comfort of bourbon
by BHP

Gibbs: “How’d it go?�
Tony: “Well, she went peacefully.�
Gibbs: “Are you okay?�
Tony: “Not really. I broke rule number ten. Again. Never get personally involved in a case.�
Gibbs: “Yeah, that’s the rule I’ve always had the most trouble with.�
Obsession, NCIS, season 7


Tony rolled the glass jar gently between his hands. It was still cold, warming slowly to the heat of his hands. The comforting scent of the bourbon wafted up to spiral round him, warm and gentle, soothing and setting his mind wandering. When had bourbon become a comforting smell? He’d never even really liked the drink. He preferred beer. Always had.

He sighed deeply and leaned back, tilting his head to one side and focusing his mostly unseeing gaze on the ceiling of Gibbs’ basement.

“Good to know I’m not alone, boss.� Then Tony’s voice turned plaintive. “I just wish I could figure out why I keep doing this.�

“Doing what, DiNozzo?â€� The question was terse, but the tone was honestly curious. Tony had a feeling that impression was false; he’d yet to encounter a situation where Gibbs didn’t have more knowledge and insight than he let on. It was one of the reasons Tony was so driven to improve as an investigator. He wanted, one day, to be as good at his job as Gibbs was â€" the man was his ultimate role model.

Tony grimaced and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean, boss. I let myself get in too deep. I can see myself sliding in, but somehow, I just can’t get myself to stop.� He shook his head sadly. “And then it all falls apart, and I …� His voice trailed off, before he took a deep breath. “I end up here, making a nuisance of myself.� The laugh was painful, hinting at the emotions Tony felt the need to hide. “It just never changes. Every time’s the same. You’d think that even I would have learned by now.�

“Have I ever said you were a nuisance?� Gibbs’ question was bland, but served to stop the flow of words. For a second, the only sound was the quiet rasp of sandpaper on wood. Tony stared at Gibbs, a little surprised at how easily one question had derailed him.

“Well, no.�
“Then, I guess you’re not one.� The logic was implacable, and Tony couldn’t help meeting Gibbs’ tiny smirk with a grin of his own. “Thanks, I guess.� Tony looked around again and murmured softly. “Although you could still have a change of heart.� A tiny shrug lifted one shoulder. “Things happen.�

Things had happened all his life. People had changed their minds about his value in their life: his father, Jeanne. He didn’t think he’d survive a dismissal from Gibbs as well.

“DiNozzo.� The exasperated tone drew Tony’s gaze back to Gibbs. Calm blue eyes stared him down, and Tony surrendered, letting some of the bottled emotions bleed away. He knew Gibbs was different. But sometimes getting your heart to believe what your intellect was already sure of, was an uphill battle. But Gibbs wasn’t done. “I trust my gut, and it tells me I have your measure. I won’t have a change of heart, Tony.�

Strangely enough, the reassurance didn’t make Tony feel any better. The case was haunting him. Dana Hutton was dead, for no good reason. That didn’t sit well with Tony. Sighing, he straightened up and placed the jar of bourbon on the workbench. He could see the question in Gibbs’ eyes, but shook his head. He slipped his jacket off, folded it neatly and laid it next to the glass jar. Nervous energy had him tapping his fingers in an uneven rhythm on the wooden surfaces, before he began pacing the small space; prowling until he could feel Gibbs’ need to make him stop. He picked up the odd tool or piece of wood on each small circuit, putting it down just as quickly every time he caught a glance that dared him to damage anything. Suddenly everything felt too close, the air too thick and the walls too near. Tony bolted for the stairs.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs sighed as he watched Tony disappear up the stairs. He wasn’t worried that Tony would leave; his jacket was still there, next to the tools on the workbench. The jar of bourbon was still almost untouched, and their unspoken agreement still stood: no-one left a drink unfinished. Especially not in the sort of mood Tony was in.

Gibbs took his time tidying up, putting his tools away and sweeping up the sawdust, letting the gentle sounds of the broom fill the room. He let his thoughts wander and make connections without any interference. By the time he’d finished, he was sure he’d discovered the root of the problem. He’d always known that Somalia â€" and everything that had happened before and during that operation â€" would need to be dealt with again. A single official debriefing, and one slightly under-the-influence visit to Gibbs’ basement, was never going to be enough to help Tony cope. Or move on. And now Gibbs knew he’d waited too long, and Tony was getting wound tight enough to snap.

Gibbs was also sure that there were other ghosts visiting Tony tonight as well. Ghosts of chances missed with Kate and Jeanne, of friendships lost or damaged in other times and places. Gibbs knew he’d made it clear that Tony could talk to him about anything if he felt the need. In most cases, though, he knew Tony would be unlikely to take him up on the offer. As far as Jeanne was concerned, he’d though Tony might talk, but given the choice she’d forced the younger man to make, there truly wasn’t much to say.

He and Tony had shared most of their secrets and sorrows by now, but every so often, Tony would fall back into his old habit of thinking he should be strong enough to carry every burden alone. Even the ones that weren’t really his to bear. A sharp edge dug into his thumb, and Gibbs looked down to see he’d crushed a piece of sandpaper into a spiky ball; he’d thought he was beyond his anger at how Tony’s father had treated his only son, but it seemed he’d further to go than he’d believed. He shook his head, and his voice echoed in the empty room. “You learn something new every day.�

He was struck suddenly by something Tony had said to him, when the younger man’s father had been in town. ‘Sometimes, it’s better to keep what you know to yourself.’ For the first time in a very long time, Gibbs entertained some doubts about his chosen course of action. Should he just wait Tony out and say nothing? Or should he speak, and risk upsetting the delicate equilibrium that Tony seemed to be achieving? In this particular case, would Tony’s needs be better served with silence?

The sound of slow, weary steps above his head signalled Tony’s return. Gibbs glanced up the stairs, only to meet a pair of solemn green eyes. Tony was good at hiding his pain, but Gibbs had spent years learning to see behind the ever-present façade. And what he saw made his decision easier: Tony needed to talk, regardless of how hard he might try to avoid the conversation. This was not a situation where keeping what he knew to himself would be the best course.

NCISNCIS

Tony met Gibbs’s eyes and immediately realised that he wasn’t leaving the basement again any time soon. For a man who said so little much of the time, Gibbs certainly had a way of getting his point across. The sudden bloom of relief actually caught Tony unawares. He knew he needed to make sense of things, if he could, but exhaustion tugged at him and slowed his steps. The unplanned rush from the basement, from Gibbs and his omniscient stare, had taken a fair chunk of Tony’s remaining energy.

He’d shot out into the back yard of the house, and reacquainted himself with the shape and confines of Gibbs’ garden. More than once, if he were honest. He’d pulled himself up short after the fifth trip around the small area, unwilling to deal with Gibbs’ response to Tony walking a path into his lawn. It was a good thing it was a moonlit night, or Gibbs would probably have had to clean up the blood from Tony tripping over a shrub, or some other innocuous and innocent object. He was definitely not at his best tonight.

It’s not fair. Tony caught himself thinking the cliché, and marvelled that he still had a child’s ability to believe that the world operated on some hidden principle of fairness. He couldn’t help smiling at his own naiveté. He settled himself back at the end of the workbench, leaning comfortably next to the older man. He reached behind Gibbs to retrieve his jar, and allowed himself to savour one small sip of the smoky liquid. He crossed his right ankle over his left and let his shoulders relax, rolling his head to loosen tight muscles. He saw the raised eyebrow, and decided not to fight the inevitable.

“Life’s not fair, boss.� Gibbs nodded slowly and tilted his head to one side as he settled a searching look on Tony’s face. “I know it’s not. I’ve known since I was just a kid, but sometimes … sometimes …�

“You wish you were wrong.� The quiet statement let Tony think for a second, before the younger man responded.

“Yeah. Is that so bad?� Both men shook their heads, and Gibbs sighed quietly. “That’s why we have justice, Tony.�

“I get that. I do. But sometimes, I just wish I could have both. You know?� Tony knew he should be more careful around Gibbs; that the man seemed to be a walking encyclopaedia of every single tone and inflection Tony had ever used, but right now being careful was too much effort.

“That’s why we do what we do; to try to make it possible for other people to have both. Trust Gibbs to hear Tony’s need for reassurance, and then find just the right words.

“Not bad for a functional mute.� Tony realised too late that his murmured words weren’t quiet enough. The gentle slap to the back of his head wasn’t really unexpected, and offered Tony physical proof that some things really don’t change. Justice, fairness, an attempt to make things better instead of worse. Silence settled around the two men as they contemplated matching glass jars of bourbon.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs had thought about how to start this conversation more times than he could count, but he still didn’t know quite what to say. That was a novel experience, but he expected it would be worth it in the long run. Jackson had always told him that anything worth having was worth the effort it would most likely cost to get it. Gibbs couldn’t honestly think of anything more worthwhile than helping Tony. He often wished the younger man would use a little more discretion, maybe a few less movie references and a bit less chatter, but objectively he could admit that Tony’s unusual methods were highly effective and successful.

“My dad thought that description of me was funny â€" and accurate.â€� Gibbs’ tone was dry, but the humour leaked through and he couldn’t curb the smile. Especially when he got a good look at Tony’s face: the younger man was still embarrassed about the things he’d said in Somalia. That thought suddenly offered Gibbs a way to say what needed to be said.

“I heard what you said to Saleem.� Gibbs had never felt the need to mention what Tony had been forced to say, to admit, when under the influence of Saleem’s truth serum. It was bad enough that Ziva and Tim had heard every word, and that Tony knew that Gibbs had heard everything as well. The younger man had been given no choice in the matter, and Gibbs knew only too well how Tony hated to lose control.

“Yeah, but you never said anything.â€� Tony’s slight grin slipped away quickly and he ducked his head to avoid looking Gibbs in the eye. “I always figured we could just â€" pretend it never happened.â€�

“Don’t think so.� Gibbs was firm. “If I forget that, then I have to forget everything else too. And I’m not willing to do that.� He smiled at Tony’s confusion and graced the younger man with a rare and honest smile. “Your determination is a major part of how and why we were there in the first place, Tony. Why we got Ziva back. Why we never stopped looking, even when it seemed she was dead.�

“Now, you call it determination.� Tony sighed in mock despair. “I seem to remember the term ‘stubborn’ was what you used before.�

“True.� Gibbs laughed aloud at the comeback. “Guess it takes one to know one. Ask Jackson about that some time.� Tony actually looked up at that, and Gibbs met curious green eyes with a single nod. “Or you can just look at Ari, or Maddie.�

Tony was suddenly intently interested in the glass jar in his hands, and Gibbs could almost sense his struggle. Tony was always trying to find out more about Gibbs, and the older man knew that his personal issues with trusting people made him prone to keeping his personal life and feelings well hidden. But perhaps, sometimes, sharing was the better option.

“I’m easily as stubborn â€" or determined â€" as you. Why do you think I said I have trouble with rule ten myself?â€� Gibbs sighed as he considered his track record. Better than some people, he knew, but also worse than others. “It’s hard. You’re dealing with something nasty, unpleasant, and you’re convinced that if you just stick with it and dig just that little bit deeper, you can find the answer.â€�

The self-deprecating snort got Tony’s attention again. The younger man was listening as though his life and future depended on every word Gibbs spoke. The level of belief, the trust, was actually a little daunting, and Gibbs could only hope he never disappointed Tony. The Domino affair had been bad enough. He wasn’t sure how many more disappointments it would take to break the younger man’s spirit irreparably. Gibbs swirled his bourbon around and took a quick swallow, before he went on quietly. “And sometimes it works out. But usually not without a cost.�

“How are you supposed to know?� Tony sounded a little lost, as though he’d found his own personal grail, but discovered too late that it hadn’t brought the happiness and satisfaction he’d believed it would. “Which ones should you just leave alone?�

“You can’t know, Tony. Or what it will cost. You can only know whether you’re willing to pay whatever it takes.� Gibbs was thoughtful now, introspective. “I thought I was, but I almost got Maddie killed. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead too.� Gibbs raised his jar and clinked it gently against Tony’s. “I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. Thank you.� Gibbs appreciated the small smile of acknowledgement on Tony’s face. “Things can go from right to wrong in seconds.�

Tony actually laughed then, a sad and disillusioned sound. “What if I’m willing to pay, but I’m not the one who does, boss? Do I have the right to make that sort of choice for someone else?� With a sharp motion, he dumped the jar of bourbon back on the workbench and slowly paced the room. The occasional scuff of his shoes emphasised how tired Tony was. Gibbs could have kicked himself: this had been a long time coming and he’d managed to miss all the warning signs. So Gibbs watched Tony pace and let him burn off the need to act, to do something.

“So, who paid?� A simple question, maybe, but with Tony on edge, Gibbs thought he might finally get the full truth.

“She did. Can’t you see that? I got what I wanted: I found her, I got the justice I needed, and she … she lost a life. Her friends, her father, everything she spent a lifetime building.�

“Dana Hutton isn’t Ziva, Tony.�
“Well, obviously not, boss. No ninja skills. Your point?�
Good. Keeping Tony off balance was vital to dealing with any emotional issue. Medieval castles, walls and moats included, were easier to breach than the defences a prepared Tony DiNozzo could deploy to avoid emotional discussions.

“So, she was an orphan.� Gibbs leaned one hip against his workbench and took a sip of bourbon. He could see that Tony was at least thinking that statement over, which was a move in the right direction. He could also see the precise moment that Tony’s over-tired brain caught up with his mouth and the younger agent realised what he’d said. Tony ducked his head to hide the slight flush that graced his cheekbones, and then scrubbed both hands through his hair, rumpling the neat brown style into unruly tufts. Gibbs let Tony ponder for a few minutes before speaking again.

“Don’t get the two of them confused, Tony. Dana Hutton made her choices. Ziva made her choices.� He glanced at Tony and shrugged. “But we knew that Ziva had been lied to as well. So … perhaps you should consider factoring that into whatever you think you should have done differently.�

“So, you’re saying things will happen, no matter what? Rule ten is pointless?� Tony was getting angry, and Gibbs was actually glad to see it. A sign that the younger man was starting to see a way past the despair.

“No. It’s there for a reason. To save you from yourself, from the emotional wounds that do more damage than bullets.� Although Gibbs knew that was a lie, in certain situations. He didn’t believe in fate, but sometimes the universe mocks you.

Gibbs could still see her, sitting on the bench at the train station, red hair blowing in the breeze. She’d smiled once, and in that one second, he’d lost his heart to Shannon. If he’d known how it would end, would he have walked away? Would he even have been able to? With years of hindsight, Gibbs had to acknowledge the truth: he could no more have walked away from Shannon than he could have left DiNozzo in Baltimore. Some things were inevitable, and paying the cost for breaking rule ten was a given. The rule was just an attempt to minimise the number of times you let yourself pay the price for being human.

“But I keep breaking it.� Tony was forlorn, hopeless as the last of his energy drained away. “You’d think once would be enough to get the message across, but Jeanne, Ziva, Dana … How dumb can I be?�

“You’re not dumb, Tony, you’re an optimist.�
“Really? With everything we see everyday, you can accuse me of being an optimist?�

Gibbs smiled.� I can. I do.� He waited until Tony settled back next to him, and passed the younger man his jar of bourbon again.

“You keep thinking that if you try hard enough, care enough, things will work out right. Things will be fair.� Gibbs slowly shook his head. “I’ve thought that too. But here we are anyway.�

Tony sighed deeply. “So much for that theory. It’s not working out well for me so far, is it?�

“I don’t know about that. Jeanne â€" I’ll give you that one. The rest, I’m not so sure. Dana Hutton knew the truth before she died. Ziva has the chance to build another life. One of her own choosing. A lot of that is thanks to you.â€�

“You almost make it sound like I did the right thing, boss.�

“I think you did. Maybe you had to break a rule to do it, but sometimes that’s what it takes.� While Tony thought about that, Gibbs took another swallow of his bourbon.

NCISNCIS

Tony sighed gently and added one more quiet thought. “So, how we feel about it later is the price we pay.�

Gibbs nodded, and Tony caught the quickly squelched light of pride in the older man’s eyes. It was good to see, but he was more relieved that Gibbs didn’t think any less of him. Gibbs knew what had driven him to do whatever it took to find Ziva, Gibbs understood what had driven him to find and help Dana Hutton. And the older man understood why Tony would never talk about Jeanne again if he could avoid it.

Gibbs had done similar things over the years for the same reasons. Gibbs was his role model, the person he most wanted to be like, the success he did his best to emulate. He knew he could thank his own father for much of his skill with undercover work. His father was an expert on charming his way into, and out of, business deals and personal romances. But Tony knew that when he was looking for someone to help him find a moral answer to a dilemma, or for an anchor in a sea of uncertainty, it was always Gibbs who came to mind. If Gibbs thought he done the right thing, then he had.

Tony glanced down into the jar and watched the bourbon swirl and eddy, copper tones catching the muted light and morphing into flecks of gold. Gold: a symbol of something precious and durable. A surprised smile crept onto Tony’s face as he realised that there was a reason behind his newly discovered appreciation for the comforting properties of bourbon. The comfort wasn’t in the bourbon, but rather in the man who offered it.