Tony lightly slapped the alarm turning off the music. He rolled out of bed without hesitation, navigating the predawn darkness with familiar ease. Months before leaving D.C. for Houston, Tony had settled into a routine of jogging at five in the morning. The only thing that had changed since he moved in with Joe and Levon was now he had company.
Tony and Joe usually covered five miles together every morning. It was nice to have someone to go with. It didn’t hurt that Joe would set a pace that was challenging without letting Tony over do it---something he’d been prone to while in D.C. Shortly before he’d left, as a way of dealing with his turbulent emotions, Tony had been running twice a day. Not only had all the stress and strenuous exercise had caused him to lose weight, but jogging in chilly autumn air had been hard on his plague damaged lungs. At least in Houston it was still warm enough that jogging outside wasn’t painful for him.
While they ran, Levon took care of his horses and chores around the barn. He normally finished before they did, and had breakfast waiting when Joe and Tony completed their run. Sometimes it was nothing more than homemade oatmeal, which Tony had found to be surprisingly good with fresh fruit. Sometimes it was bacon and eggs. Once in awhile Levon might make pancakes. But whatever he made, it was always good, and the shared meal never failed to add to Tony’s feeling of welcome. It also helped to put back on some of the weight he’d lost.
Tony going into work with Joe and Levon had been added to their daily routine three weeks ago. It had taken almost two months before Tony had secured a position with the Houston Police Department. He’d turned down Joe and Levon’s offer to use any influence they might have to ensure he got hired to fill a spot that recently opened up in their unit. He even went so far as to make them promise not to speak on his behalf when he applied, refusing to use them as references. Tony didn’t want anyone saying he’d only gotten the job because of them.
He wanted to get hired on his own merit---not like when Gibbs had gotten him a position at NCIS. He knew he’d only been hired because Gibbs wanted him on his team. It wasn’t like he’d actually applied for the job even though he had been thinking about leaving Baltimore. At the time, a federal position hadn’t really been something he’d set his sights on.
Tony had lost count of the number of NCIS agents who’d taken time out of their busy days to make sure he was fully aware that if it hadn’t been for Gibbs Tony wouldn’t have made the grade. For the first two years of his career at NCIS, Tony secretly feared Gibbs was prepared to cut him loose at a moments notice. He’d seen Vivian transferred with little or no warning, and Tony had no reason not think the same couldn’t happen to him.
When Gibbs hired Kate, and then McGee, his fear had intensified. They came with a far more specialized set of skills than Tony could lay claim to, and they’d been hired about the time Tony would have normally moved on to greener pastures. But he’d held his own, proving his worth and stayed.
After Gibbs left for Mexico, Tony realized he no longer owed his job to the man. He finally found the confidence in himself that should have always been there but hadn’t been. And everything that happened afterwards convinced Tony he didn’t owe Gibbs his loyalty either. Gibbs obviously didn’t trust Tony, so why the hell was he should he trust him? Rule 15 said they were supposed to always work as a team. And it had come to be just one more example of Gibbs’ wanting his team to do what he said but not what he did.
So Tony had gone through the lengthy hiring process for the Houston Police Department the way everyone else did. He’d filled out the application, using a P.O. Box for an address rather than Joe and Levon’s place and the number from his newly acquired cellphone. At least on paper it wouldn’t look like he was living with them. Not that anyone would likely care, but to Tony it was the principal of the thing.
He proved his linguistics skills during his first interview. When the personnel clerk responsible for handling all initial applicant meetings had entered the room cursing to himself in Spanish, Tony had responded in the same language. The entire interview was ultimately conducted in Spanish. In Houston, with its large Latino population, being bilingual was nearly a requirement. It was certainly in Tony’s favor that he also spoke French, Italian and German---although not as fluently as he did Spanish.
Part of the application process, for anyone not already on the HPD payroll, was a mandated trip to the firing range. Tony had qualified on the shooting range with ease, using a Sig Sauer he borrowed Joe’s sizeable collection of handguns. He’d taken no small amount of pride in beating his own personal best. His score was in the top five for the range, losing out only to the snipers on SWAT and Levon. Levon held the top score for the department since earning his gold shield nearly ten years ago. It only made sense since that he would---he’d been handling firearms from the time his grandfather, a former Texas Ranger, thought he was big enough to hold one.
Tony was a little worried about not being able to list Gibbs as a reference. Given how he left, he didn’t think either Gibbs or Shepard would have much good to say about him. But it wasn’t uncommon not to list former supervisors when looking for a new job. Still, knowing some one to vouch for him and his time at NCIS would be helpful. So Tony bit the bullet and sent a brief e-mail, from an internet café, to Ducky and Michelle Lee asking if they would mind being character references for him. He also asked them not to mention his request to anyone else.
Not that he actually expected anyone else on the team to care, but he didn’t want Ducky or Michelle to take any heat for doing him a favor. It was the same reason he’d had numbers from the office and his teammate’s cellphones blocked from Levon and Joe’s home phone. Assuming the team bothered to try and track him down; their number would be a logical starting point since it was the last one he’d called. Tony didn’t want his former teammates to call and bother Joe and Levon, or leave nasty messages.
Not that they could leave messages any more. Three days after Tony had moved in, a passing thunderstorm and stray bolt of lightning had fried the answering machine. They hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet. There was one message that had been lost, but they assumed if it was important whoever it was would call back.
Tony stretched, limbering up a bit before heading down the hall to meet Joe. Even with his skills and experience, Tony had thought getting the spot in Beaumont’s squad would be a long shot. Getting in on the Major Case Squad was considered a plum position and competition was fierce. But he thought his overall chances of getting in with the department were better than average so getting called back for a second interview hadn’t surprised him. He had, however, been absolutely stunned when Beaumont called to offer him a job on her squad after his second interview.
Tony enjoyed getting back into the swing of police work. It was nice to be once more doing something he felt he was good at. And he liked the people he worked with a lot. They had hazed him a little…good natured stuff about being another transplanted Yankee and Joe trying to slip more family in across the border, but for the most part, his addition to the team was met with an easy acceptance that Tony found a bit disconcerting---until his new partner, Roberto Mendez, had set him straight.
“Once Beaumont narrowed the choices down to four she found acceptable, she let everyone in the squad look at the candidates. We got to put in our two cents, and everyone thought you were the best guy for the job.” Roberto had laughed lightly. “Even before we found out you was related to that crazy gringo, LaFiamma.”
Tony grinned to himself, still pleased with that endorsement. It was nice to know his credentials had impressed them. God knows no one at NCIS ever thought much of what he’d accomplished.
He laughed softly thinking about Roberto. In spite of his Latino heritage, Roberto’s little wire rimmed glasses and studious demeanor had initially reminded Tony of McGee. But Roberto was no geek, and he spoke his mind without hesitation---something McGee had rarely done. Roberto also had several tattoos hidden under his clothes that were leftovers from when he was in a gang as a teenager. He had the most obvious ones removed when he started to give being a cop serious consideration. His sly wit worked well with Tony’s own off beat sense of humor, and he played a mean game of basketball.
Three weeks hadn’t been much of a test yet, but Tony had a feeling he and Roberto were going to do fine together. If nothing else, Roberto seemed like a dependable guy. He had plenty of experience of his own to draw on, solid street smarts and a willingness to work with Tony. It was certainly a nice change from the competition that had always existed between Tony, McGee and Ziva.
It didn’t hurt that the rest of the squad looked out for each other too. Beaumont had regular briefings so that each team on the squad knew the basics and rate of progress on each others’ cases. If they came across anything in their own investigations that might be linked to another case, it was much easier to recognize it and then pass it along. Or if back up was needed, it took far less time to bring them up to speed on what was going on. Tony appreciated that her system lessened the chances of what happened to Pacci, who’d been killed while working a cold case no one else had known about, would happen on Beaumont’s watch. And he really liked that it made his getting to know the other detectives far easier than anywhere else he’d worked.
“You ready to go, Tony?” Joe asked from where he was stretching out in front of the stone fireplace.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Was thinking we should pick up the pace today. Maybe add another mile.” Joe smiled. “You up for it?”
“Definitely.” Tony grinned. Whenever Joe wanted to increase the pace and add distance, it meant he talked Levon into making something very carb heavy for breakfast. Tony was betting on waffles. Joe had a real weakness for them, especially when covered in strawberries. He tended to eat more than he considered good for himself. Tony would tease him about it if he didn’t have a similar weakness.
Eventually, Tony was going to have to find a place of his own. He couldn’t stay in their guest room forever, but for now, he was going to enjoy the benefits of living with Joe and Levon to the fullest.
****************** ********************* ******************
Gibbs sipped his bourbon, wincing at the greater than usual burn it caused in his mouth. He’d bit the inside of his cheek when Corporal Worth had belted him in the gym and the abused tissue was still a bit raw. His sore ribs protested when he moved, reminding him they hadn’t appreciated being slammed up against the wall.
Subduing Worth had been a lot harder than Gibbs expected. He’d taken on Gibbs, McGee and Ziva without even breaking much of a sweat. Having a fourth might well have made a difference. As it was, it had taken the added assistance of two orderlies and a recovering Marine to pin Worth down and sedate him.
Gibbs shook his head. McGee had sustained a concussion, a broken wrist and cracked three ribs. Ziva had also gotten a minor concussion and a broken nose out of the deal, but at least she could say she gave as good as she got. Worth sported a few bruises from her boots that wouldn’t fade quickly.
With McGee unable to type at his usual speed, Gibbs been forced to call in reinforcements to do the computer stuff for the investigation. Agent Lee had worked as McGee’s hands, typing and searching under his direction. She’d worked well enough, but Gibbs didn’t still didn’t see her as material for his team. She was too timid.
He frowned, thinking about her. Several times it had been like she was on the verge of saying something to him, only to walk away whenever anyone else showed up. He suspected she wanted another shot at being a field agent, but if she didn’t have balls enough to simply ask him she wouldn’t cut it in the field.
Getting a moment alone with her, Gibbs all but ordered her to just spit it out, snapping at her harshly. For a moment she’d actually seemed to shrink away from him, eyes overly bright, but she rallied, raising her chin, dark eyes meeting his defiantly. She told him, with calm deliberation, that she was sorry if she had done anything to offend him. He didn’t entirely believe her apology was the reason she’d want to talk to him, but he felt like a heel for nearly making her cry, so he just nodded and told her to get back to work.
Getting Abby to work on the case hadn’t been easy either. Ever since Kate’s death, Abby tended to go a little nuts when it came to the safety of the others so she took it personally that Worth had hurt everyone on the team. She did not like reminders of their mortality.
Gibbs understood her fear of losing another teammate. And he hated that her fear was well grounded when it came to the dangerous nature of their jobs---Pacci, Kate, and Paula had all died in the line of duty. Not to mention the very real fear not that long ago Tony might have been added to the list. Tony’s quitting and simply vanishing hadn’t help to alleviate Abby’s fears any---but Gibbs couldn’t condone her thinking of a Marine as little better than a rabid dog in need of a permanent solution. Worth was a soldier, damn it, and a good one. It was their duty to find out what had happened to him. He was glad Ducky had been able to convince Abby to work on the case. Gibbs was sure she’d have done it if he ordered her too…but he didn’t want it to come to that.
Karen Sutherland had been very helpful with eliminating possible drug testing by her company. Gibbs grimaced as he pictured the woman. She was pretty. Tony could have probably charmed the pants off her and gotten her to help a lot faster. Well, the old Tony would have, Gibbs amended. The others might not think he noticed, but he was aware that after Jeanne, Tony didn’t flirt the way he used to.
As it was, Gibbs was forced to play on Sutherland’s conscience, hoping like hell she really had one. It was a lucky break she really meant what she said about trying to help people. It was a shame that her company wasn’t doing any drug testing to make super soldiers. It would have made for a much nicer ending to Worth’s situation.
Gibbs smiled wryly. Tony would have loved Sutherland’s lab. It was full of all sorts of gizmos and toys that would have been right at home in any of the younger man’s favorite Bond movies.
Gibbs sighed. His gaze drifted to the metal box that now sat on top of his work bench. Tony was the first and only person he’d ever charged with the job of keep his medals. He’d never told Tony that. Gibbs had just handed him the box and told him to keep it in a safe place. Would it have made a difference to Tony if he’d known? Gibbs took another sip of his drink. He had now way of knowing, but he had a feeling it would have.
Worth would never get a medal. Not officially. Steroid abuse just didn’t look good for the Marine Corps and the Senator any better than it did for Major League Baseball. Gibbs snorted. He wished he’d had the chance to smack that schmuck of an aid around just a little.
Gibbs took another sip of his drink. If Worth had doped himself for some selfish gain, Gibbs would never have found his actions excusable. But as it was, Gibbs understood the kid wasn’t trying to be a hero, he just wanted to be a Marine. The shame of it was, he had been a good one. He really was a credit to the Corps and had saved the lives of several of his fellow soldiers. So Gibbs had left his medal for Worth. He wanted him to know at least one person believed he’d earned it.
Gibbs sighed. He should have done something like that for Tony. Made some effort to acknowledge how proud he was of him, how good an agent he was. It galled him to have to admit to himself Shepard had been right---he hadn’t treated Tony with the respect he deserved, or shown him how much he was trusted. He had no right to be surprised the younger man had finally had enough. Tony wasn’t a dog, no matter how much he might seem like one at times---he wouldn’t stand around forever waiting for what tidbit of praise or acknowledgement Gibbs might toss his way. His loyalty wasn’t unconditional.
Gibbs never thought Tony would just walk away…or manage to elude being found so easily. Tony knew how they worked. If he wanted to hide, he had an inside track on how to do it. The strange thing was that Gibbs’ gut was telling him Tony never expected them to look, so his vanishing act probably hadn’t been deliberate.
Gibbs suspected it was a byproduct of how Tony lived his life. Being prepared to go under cover at a moment’s notice, or pick up and leave whenever the mood struck him. Until coming to NCIS, Tony hadn’t put down roots…and he acted like he hadn’t wanted or needed them. Gibbs was reminded of something Ducky had told him not long after hiring Tony.
They were both standing on the platform above the bullpen. DiNozzo was the only one working. His head was bent over some case file.
“He’s like you, Jethro, in many ways.” Ducky had observed quietly.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Gibbs had smirked.
“Not at all, dear boy.” Ducky had smiled. “But what makes him interesting is where you and he differ.”
“Oh?” Gibbs had asked, arching an eyebrow.
“You never doubted yourself. In all the time I’ve known you. He does.”
“Doubts will get you killed.” Gibbs had declared firmly, not liking Ducky’s assessment. He’d seen people second guess themselves into immobility.
“They can,” Ducky had agreed. “But leaping in where angels fear to tread will do the same.”
The ME had turned to look him in the eye. “It is hard to learn anything when you think you already have all the answers. Mostly because you stop looking for what you think you have already found.” Ducky had nodded to where Tony sat. “That one…his doubts will serve him well. They will not cause him to freeze, but rather will keep him mobile and searching.”
“Not a bad trait in an investigator.”
“True.” Ducky had nodded, patting Gibbs on the arm. “But it isn’t just answers to your cases he’ll be looking for.”
Gibbs suddenly understood what Ducky had been trying to tell him then. He sighed deeply. He put down his glass, and walked to his latest project.
Gibbs eyed the skeleton of his new boat. This one was just over two months into construction. The day Tony had quit, Gibbs had come home and destroyed the previous one in a fit of rage. He’d taken a sledge hammer to it, hitting it over and over until there was little more than shards and splinters left. He burned it all in the backyard.
Gibbs began sanding with slow and deliberate motions. He was tired and his body ached, but sleep would be a long time coming. It hadn’t come easy since Tony quit. He kept thinking about everything he should have done differently, questions should have asked, answers he hadn’t known were missing.
Gibbs smiled tiredly. He would have to talk to Ducky tomorrow. The older man had known Tony better the day he met him than Gibbs did after nearly seven years working with him. Maybe he’d have some idea of where Tony had gone. God knows the rest of them weren’t having much luck.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Chance to see Tony in Houston, and Gibbs after Corporal Punishment.