Gibbs had spent a quiet weekend at home…or at least that was what he planned to do. Maddie Tyler had reminded him all he’d lost, and he wanted time alone to put his daughter’s memory to rest, to come to terms with what would never be. He wanted to rebury her time capsule and reflect on what sort of woman she might have become if given the chance.
He had grudgingly tolerated the many interruptions, gruffly insisting to all those who asked that he was fine. Abby, Ducky, McGee, Ziva, Sheppard---all of them had either called or stopped by his house. While it was heartwarming to have so many people expressing their concern, it was also just a bit frustrating. He wasn’t some china doll in need of coddling.
Tony was the only one who hadn’t made any effort to contact him. He thought the younger man was likely the only one to truly understand Gibbs’ desire for solitude. Or maybe he was simply the only one willing to respect it. In all honesty, Gibbs hadn’t really given Tony’s absence much thought other than to be grateful he had sense enough to leave him alone.
It wasn’t until he walked into the office Monday morning, cup of hot coffee in hand, that Tony not calling or stopping by became significant. In the center of his desk was the metal box Tony kept Gibbs’ medals in. He frowned, suspiciously eyeing the box and the innocuous envelope braced against it. Gibbs hadn’t considered any envelope to be completely innocent since Tony had been infected with the plague.
He warily set his coffee down on his desk. He relaxed marginally when he saw his name on the envelope written in Tony’s distinctive scrawl. Gibbs unconsciously held his breath as he opened the letter with his knife.
The note inside had been brief, short and to the point.
‘Gibbs,
I know hiring a cop with a job jumping habit was a huge risk, and
I appreciate you taking a chance on me. I’ve learned a lot from you,
and I admit you’ve made me a much better investigator. For that,
I thank you.
I could write a lengthy diatribe on why I’m quitting, but you aren’t
the sort to want or need that. The bottom line is I’ve gone as far as
I can at NCIS. I stayed longer than I expected, and probably longer
than I should have. There isn’t anything more for me here.
I wasn’t sure who you’d want to give your medals to for safe keeping so
I am leaving them on your desk.
It’s been one hell of a ride.
Tony’
Gibbs scowled. He was sure he’d read the note wrong, misunderstood. Tony wouldn’t quit. He searched his desk for his glasses, reading Tony’s message a second time.
He nearly growled when the second reading confirmed the first. It really was a resignation, albeit an informal one. Gibbs scanned his desk, seeking Tony’s badge and gun. He took a breath, releasing it slowly when he didn’t find either. If Tony really meant to quit he’d leave those behind. They were symbolic of the job, and Tony had been in law enforcement long enough to recognize handing them over meant he was serious, more so than any letter ever would.
This is just some sort of stupid joke, Gibbs told himself. He shook his head, jaw clenching. He was pissed Tony would do something like this, something so clearly in bad taste. He’d head smack him into next week for being---Gibbs mental rant stopped short as he glanced over at Tony’s work area. The files which seemed to perpetually grace his inbox were all gone.
Gibbs stalked over to Tony’s desk, wanting to confirm nothing else was out of place. The toys that cluttered the area around his monitor were still there. So too was the Sports Illustrated calendar, and the top left desk draw was still full of candy. But the back pack Tony used in the field was gone. His sketch pad was missing too. Gibbs checked the filing cabinet and was not entirely surprised to see the spare clothes Tony usually kept here were also missing.
He stepped over to McGee’s desk. Sitting on the center of the blotter was Tony’s American Pie mug. He knew McGee coveted that stupid mug, although he had no idea why. To Gibbs one mug was as good as another. Leaning against it was a nearly identical envelope to the one on Gibbs’ desk. The former Marine was sorely tempted to open it, but refrained from touching it. If it were case related, Gibbs wouldn’t have even hesitated, but this was likely something personal and he felt duty bound to respect that. It wasn’t his place to read the message Tony had left for McGee.
He checked Ziva’s desk, wondering if Tony had left her anything. A letter opener was in the center. Gibbs had no idea what the significance was of that. Like the mug, it was hardly an item that was hard to come by or seemed terribly special to Gibbs. Under it was another envelope with Ziva’s name on it.
He cursed. This was definitely not a joke. Tony clearly meant it when he said he was quitting.
“Over my dead body,” Gibbs muttered. He’d be the one to decide who left his team and when. He grabbed his coffee cup, intent on heading to Tony’s apartment.
Tony said he could go on at length for why he was leaving but hadn’t because he didn’t think Gibbs would be interested---he was about to find out how wrong he was. Gibbs was very interested, and he wanted answers. He wanted them now.
Gibbs hit the button for the elevator with more force than necessary. Everything was fine just a few days ago. Things were finally back on track for the team after that La Grenouille debacle. Sure, Ziva and McGee were giving Tony a hard time about some things---that wasn’t out of the ordinary. They always gave each other a hard time. And Gibbs hadn’t cut Tony any slack, but he never had.
What the hell had happened to make Tony just walk away without talking to Gibbs first? If it had been a family emergency, Tony could have just asked for a leave of absence. Not that he had any family he’d be needed for. Gibbs knew Tony’s mother was dead, he hadn’t spoken to his father in years, and Tony didn’t have any siblings. There wasn’t any one else.
If he was sick he could have also taken time off. He plenty of sick leave available to him. And it wasn’t like he’d have to quit---unless whatever was wrong would have affected his fitness for field duty. But Gibbs doubted anything could have cropped up in just a few days that would be so devastating Tony had to quit immediately.
Gibbs knew Tony had meant it when he told Shepard he wasn’t working undercover for her again. He’d been far too adamant to be lying about that. So this wasn’t some secret case in disguise sort of thing.
He shook his head, punching the elevator button again. There was no good reason for Tony to have been fine one day and quit the next.
The doors to the elevator finally opened. Gibbs moved to step inside, only to be brought up short by the Director trying to step out. He was surprised to see her. She wasn’t ordinarily in the office quite so early. No one got to the office as early as Gibbs.
“Jenny.” He moved to step around her, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Good morning, Jethro.” She smiled. “I need to see you in my office for a few minutes.”
“I don’t have time right now.”
“You get a call about a case?” She arched an eyebrow, regard him coolly. “I wouldn’t think you’d be leaving without your team. At least not quite so soon after your last lone wolf escapade. Or are you harboring suicidal tendencies I was unaware of?”
Gibbs bit back a sharp retort. Going off on his own had been a bone head move that had nearly gotten Maddie killed. He deserved to take some flack for it. Although, she was hardly the one to judge. If anyone should be giving him a ration of crap it was DiNozzo. He’s the one who’d had to been forced to save the day, risking himself in the process.
“No, I didn’t get a call about a case.” Gibbs managed to keep his voice even.
“And you’ve already got coffee.” She nodded toward the cup in his hand. “So I’m sure there isn’t anything too pressing that you can’t spend a few minutes in my office.”
Gibbs could contradict her. But then he’d have to rationalize where he was going and why. She wouldn’t let him leave without some sort of explanation. Her expression and body language radiated a not so subtle challenge that told him plainly she wouldn’t back down.
He didn’t want to lie and he sure as hell didn’t want to tell her the truth. If Tony hadn’t mentioned to her yet his decision to quit Gibbs wasn’t going to be the one to say anything. He still thought he had a chance to talk to Tony, kick his ass and see to it Tony got his head on straight. No one but him and the team would need to be aware of this moment of temporary stupidity.
“I’ve got a few minutes,” Gibbs finally said, turning to follow Jenny.
She nodded once, accepting his decision gracefully. Gibbs stifled a snort. Like he’d had a choice at all? It made Gibbs want to head smack her, even as another part of him felt some pride in having taught her how to put people in a corner so well.
When Gibbs entered her office, he immediately spotted the gun and badge on her desk blotter. He cursed under his breath. At least now he knew what Tony had done with them. Why the hell had he given them to Jenny of all people?
He watched Jenny’s lips tighten and her eyes narrow as she saw the same thing he did. Gibbs frowned. Her expression was more annoyance and anger than surprise. And surprise or even outright confusion was more what Gibbs would have expected---unless she already knew Tony was planning to quit. That also explained why Tony had left his badge and gun on her desk.
“You knew.”
She ignored him, crossing her office to set her briefcase and purse down on the floor near her desk. Jenny picked up Tony’s badge and gun, setting them off to the side. Gibbs grimaced when he saw yet another envelope. Tony had certainly been busy writing. He wondered if hers was more detailed than what Tony had left for Gibbs.
“Were you planning to tell me he was quitting when you dragged me up here?”
She gave him a cool look, facing him from behind her desk. “He left something for you then?”
Gibbs glared at her. “Answer my question.”
“Yes, I wanted to tell you he’d talked about leaving.” She glared back at him, her chin rising. “I was hoping he’d changed his mind, but obviously he didn’t.”
“When the hell did you talk to him?” Gibbs snarled, furious that Tony hadn’t talked to him first. He was the first person Tony should have come to. “And why didn’t you talk him out of this?”
“What? Like I talked you out of leaving?” Her laugh was harsh and unpleasant. “You think he’d listen any better to me than you do? Please.”
“He’s not me!”
“Funny, that’s what he told me too.” Jenny’s lips curled upward in bitter smile. “I guess I won’t have to misfile his resignation the way I did yours.”
“Excuse me?” Gibbs planted himself in front her desk, glaring at her. She was just going to let him quit? “You can’t be seriously thinking of accepting"“
“The hell I can’t!” She leaned forward, meeting his angry gaze unflinchingly. “He quit, Special Agent Gibbs. That’s not the sort of thing usually open for discussion.”
“It is when I don’t even know why he quit!” Gibbs raged.
“You want to know why he quit?” She rolled her eyes. “Are you telling me you don’t think he had reason?”
Gibbs opened his mouth, only to snap it shut. He scowled. Obviously Tony thought he had reason to quit…and she clearly had some idea of what he thought. “What are you"“
“I realize to say you don’t talk about anything important is a monumental understatement,” she straightened, folding her arms over her chest, “and that anything not related to a case might as well be non-existent for you, but even you can’t be that damn blind.”
Gibbs blinked. “You want to explain that?”
“You treated him like shit when you came back from your margarita safari. Not one word about how good a job he did.”
“He knows he did a good job.”
“So what…telling him that would have been overkill?”
“You told him he did a good job. That should have been enough.”
“Of course. Because it was only my opinion he valued.”
“He valued it enough to take an undercover operation for you.” Gibbs knew he sounded petty, like a jealous two year old, but it still grated on his nerves that an entire operation was going on which he’d known nothing about. He could act like nothing had changed in those four months he was gone, except so much had. And he hated it.
“Tony took the job because you weren’t here. We both know that.”
“I wouldn’t have allowed it.” Gibbs agreed. He would have looked further into Jenny’s obsessions, although he suspected he only thought so now because of everything that had happened since. When the La Grenouille first came up, he had no more reason to be suspicious than Tony had. The man was a known arms dealer. He was exactly the sort of target they should have been taking an interest in.
“Well, then maybe you should have stuck around.” She snapped at him. “Or been a bit more altogether when you came back.”
“How"“
“I offered him a job in Spain. His own team. He stayed because he thought you needed him. And what a beautiful job you did of proving him wrong. The great Leroy Jethro Gibbs doesn’t need anyone. Hell no. He can risk life and limb just fine on his own, thank you very much.”
Gibbs stared at her. Tony had been offered his own team? He’d turned it down? Gibbs spat back at Jenny, “I may not have coddled him"“
“Coddled? Shit, Gibbs, you barely gave a damn.”
“That’s not true!”
“All that concern you claim to feel….that would be why you sent him into the rain all night when you were after Ari even though he was still recovering from the plague. And you cared so much you wouldn’t let him have time off after Paula died.” Jenny arched an eyebrow. “And couldn’t be bothered to check on him after Jeanne left.”
Gibbs flushed. He had been careless with Tony’s health, but he was sure Tony understood. He’d wanted Ari as much as Gibbs had. And working was the best thing for Tony after Paula died. But Jeanne….that wasn’t Gibbs’ fault. He wasn’t taking any blame for that clusterfuck.
“He wouldn’t have even had to deal with Jeanne leaving if you hadn’t gotten him into that mess.”
Jenny’s eyes glittered, dangerously hard. “At least I had sense enough to thank him now and again for going above and beyond the call.”
“Some thanks.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.
“Who are you to judge?” She sneered. “He saved your life just a few days ago, and you couldn’t be bothered to even look at him.”
“He never stopped by,” Gibbs defended himself, suppressing the flash of guilt. He should have offered some thanks to Tony.
“It would be too much effort for you to call him? Or stop by his place? Clearly he’s the only one who should give.”
“He’s not the only one"“
“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes. “Like you ever gave up anything. You made him give up the team you stuck him with because you changed your mind. He gave up any changes made that might have actually allowed the team to function better. He gave up any respect he might have gotten from his peers. Hell, he even gave up his own theories in favor of yours because clearly a war hero couldn’t possibly have been a killer.”
“He wasn’t.” Gibbs gritted his teeth.
“No, he wasn’t, but Tony was right to consider the option. And you know it. It’s one of your famous rules after all….we don’t assume.”
Gibbs firmly resisted the urge to slap her. He’d forgotten how arguing with women always made him feel stupid. He’d never won when it came to his ex-wives either.
“And let’s not forget him getting a concussion because you’re old boss carried more weight with you than he did.”
“That’s"“
She cut him off. “Or any other dozen concussions you might have given him with those head slaps.”
“Those are a wake up call.” It was a useful training tool, a form of discipline, nothing more.
“So why don’t you hit Ziva or McGee just as hard? And you can’t tell me they don’t need it.” Jenny pointed a finger at him. “McGee’s sister ring any bells? Or that stupid novel? Or Abby nearly dying in that robotic Hummer because he wasn’t paying attention. Ziva fell for a dying man on your watch for crying out loud.”
“You have a problem with how I run my team?” Gibbs growled. She’d been messing with his team since she started as Director. She needed to butt the hell out, Gibbs thought darkly.
“No, I don’t have a problem with how you run your team.” She took a breath, letting it out with a small huff. “But that doesn’t mean everyone on your team appreciates you playing favorites.”
“Tony’s an adult, not a child.” That sort of thing shouldn’t bother him. All he had to do was his damn job and do it well. Besides, Tony did his best work when Gibbs kept him on his toes.
“Yes, he is an adult.” Jenny agreed coolly. “And he’s made his decision. He quit.” She snatched up the envelope, holding it out to Gibbs. “Now we have to deal with it.”
“And I intend to.” Gibbs slapped the envelope away. He wasn’t going to read it. He didn’t need to. “I’m going to get him back.”
“I wish you luck,” she stated calmly, “because I can’t see him agreeing to come back to a team that doesn’t trust or respect him.”
“He told you that?” Gibbs stared at her.
“He didn’t have to tell me that. I could see that for myself.” Jenny shook her head. “The first sign of trouble, they run to you. They dismiss any insight or input he has until it’s proven, but they have faith in your gut like it was God himself. And now they act like he can’t be trusted to go to the dentist or the bathroom by himself.”
“If he wanted to be trusted, he shouldn’t have lied to them.” Or to me, Gibbs added mentally, especially not to me. And respect was earned not given.
“Right…because everyone on your team is so fucking forthcoming.” She hissed, leaning forward to rest her hands on the desktop. “None of them had secrets, no. Of course not.” Jenny sneered. “And you…well you are just a font of information aren’t you. No secrets, no lies, nothing hidden or withheld. You’re a veritable paragon of virtue. Tell me, Jetho, what is it like to live in a glass house?”
She didn’t give him time to respond. “Tony isn’t some raw recruit. He’s been an agent for seven years. How much experience and skill does it take before he gets his due?”
That stung, and Gibbs had to force himself not to flinch. The truth of what she was saying pissed him off. His anger made him want to sting her the same way she’d done to him.
“His due? Is that what you thought you were giving him by sending him undercover without backup?” Gibbs spat back at her. “Having him work double duty…was that how you showed you trusted him? That you respected him?”
He took petty satisfaction in seeing her wince. Her color heightened with what Gibbs knew was shame. He’d definitely scored a hit.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t part of the problem,” Jenny responded, her tone firm, composure once more in place. “But the problem was there before I ever took this job.”
“How the hell would you know?”
“You don’t think Morrow didn’t keep a file? He briefed me before he left so I’d know just what I was getting myself into. And even if he hadn’t, who do you think Ziva reviewed intel with to profile your team?”
On some level, he had known that. It was only natural that Morrow would review each team with his replacement, giving Jenny their strengths and weaknesses. It was information she’d have needed to do a good job. And Ziva hadn’t come to them initially as a teammate but almost as an adversary. She’d sized them all up for bastard of a brother, not knowing he would ultimately betray Israel, the FBI and her.
Realizing the argument wasn’t going to solve anything, Gibbs turned away from Jenny and headed for the door.
“When I come back with DiNozzo, we’ll settle this.”
“IF you come back with him, it won’t be me you’ll have settled with.”
Gibbs slammed the door. He cursed as he headed for the stairs. Jenny was always right at the worst possible times. His gut was screaming at him that this was one of those times.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs finds out Tony quit. he and Jenny fight about it.