Work Text:
Title: I smiled
Author: Ceindreadh
Email: Ceindreadh@eircom.net
Genre (general, hetero or slash) - Pre-Slash
Pairing/Characters: Gibbs/Tony
Rating: PG 15
Summary: How *did* Tony get into NCIS ?
Warnings:
Disclaimer. I don't own the NCIS characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in good condition when I'm finished.
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"How did you get into N.C.I.S.?"
"I smiled."
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Four years earlier...
"No, Ducky," snapped Gibbs. "I do *not* want to go to a New Years Eve party, or any party for that matter."
"So what *are* you planning on doing for this New Years Eve, Jethro?" asked Ducky, as he carefully watched the younger man. "Sitting in your basement and drink bourbon all night? I know that's what you used to do to avoid talking to Samantha, but she's not there any more, and she's taken her baseball bat with her. And really, it's not healthy to just sit down there all night, every night."
"I do not do it *every* night."
"True, you don't. Some nights you're working a case. Jethro, I know your basement became your refuge, a safe haven as it were. But you don't have to hide their now."
"I am *not* hiding," snapped Gibbs. "I go down there to think..."
"Well you should really get a hobby then. Maybe start actually building something, instead of just repairing things that got broken."
Gibbs instinctively rubbed the back of his head. The stitches had been removed several weeks ago, and Ducky had assured him that the scar wouldn't be visible once the hair was brushed over it. "Yeah, that's a good plan," he said. "In fact, that's what I was planning on doing on New Years Eve. Start as you mean to go on, right? I figure I'll start building something for the New Year."
"Oh really, Jethro," said Ducky, a little skeptical. "And what were you planning on building?"
Gibbs looked around Ducky's office in search of inspiration. It came in the form of the calendar on Ducky's wall. "A boat," he said firmly. "I'm going to build a boat."
"Hmm," said Ducky, not having missed Gibbs's hesitation. "Well by all means build your boat, but as your physician, and more importantly, as your *friend*, I insist that you accompany me on New Years Eve."
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Ducky was possibly about the only person who could have managed it, but that New Years Eve, Gibbs found himself dressed up in a tuxedo and sharing a taxicab with Ducky on their way to the party.
Gibbs tugged awkwardly at his bowtie only to have Ducky slap his hand away. "Jethro, will you stop fidgeting. You'll get creases in your tuxedo."
"I don't know why I let you talk me into this," grumbled Gibbs. "I *hate* parties. I don't know why your friend invited me."
"It was as a favor to me. And the reason I had him invite you was so that you wouldn't spend the first holiday after *this* divorce, drinking yourself stupid and wallowing in self-pity. I know you arranged to work through Christmas, and that's why I had Director Morrow assign somebody else to cover New Years Eve."
"You went to Director Morrow behind my back?" Gibbs glared at Ducky.
"Yes," replied Ducky, not a trace of remorse in his face. "Oh Jethro, I remember how you were after Catherine and Marjorie left you. I really don't want to have to put up with your moodiness for another six months. You need to get out, meet people. Get laid."
"Ducky!"
"What, Jethro?"
"Please tell me this isn't going to be an orgy or something?"
"Sadly no," said Ducky. "However, I have noticed that my friend's parties do tend to end with more couples than when they started. However, there are one or two rules to be observed." The cab had pulled up outside a set of heavy gates, and Gibbs paid off the driver before joining Ducky outside them. As they walked up the path to the door, Ducky continued.
"The first rule is of course, the masks." Ducky handed a small domino mask to Gibbs and pulled one over his own face. "These are to be worn at all times while at the party. It was through failing to observe this custom that my dear Mother was banned from attending any future parties. Of course, since she had removed the mask as a finale to a strip tease, I doubt if there were many people there who saw her face, but it was the principle of the thing. Many of the people at the party will wish to remain strictly anonymous, and any infraction of the 'mask' rule will result in immediate expulsion. Of course when I explained about Mother's...condition, my friend was most understanding, however, for her own protection, as well as those of the other guests, it was deemed advisable to not allow her future attendance."
"How is Mrs. Mallard?" asked Gibbs.
"Oh she has her good days," said Ducky with a sigh. "She occasionally asks about you. Or at least I'm pretty sure that it's you she means when she mentions the silver haired and golden tongued fox."
Gibbs couldn't help but smile. "You mentioned other rules?"
"Well the only other important rule is that what happens here, stays here. Anything you see here, does not get mentioned outside of these walls. For tonight, no matter what our ties to the outside world, we are all free agents. Many people here will to use a pseudonym to cut all ties with their outside persona. If you happen to meet somebody tonight that you would wish to contact again, it can be arranged, but only with the permission of both parties. There was one regrettable incident several years ago. A young man had an assignation, and afterwards wished to continue it. The young lady was not of the same inclination, and lets just say there was some unpleasantness. So if you *did* perchance..."
"I am *not* planning on having any assignations," growled Gibbs.
"By all means Jethro. Not everybody comes to this party with that in mind. For some it is the only place they can relax in the security that nobody knows who they really are. There will be dinner and music and dancing, and I'm sure that even *you* will have a good time."
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Two glasses of champagne, and several hours later, Gibbs wasn't really inclined to agree with Ducky. The music was good, if a little loud, and the buffet supplied had been pretty good. But as Gibbs leaned against a pillar watching the dance floor, he grew more and more convinced that he should have stayed in his basement this night.
From what he could see, Ducky appeared to be having a good enough time. Soon after they had handed over their jackets, Ducky had excused himself and made his way over to a man who had been standing by a pillar, and clearly waiting for Ducky's entrance. It was hard to tell with the mask, but he looked to be about Ducky's age, dark hair, dark eyes, Gibbs noted automatically with his investigators eye, and a large ring on the little finger of his left hand. Gibbs also noted the way the two men embraced as if they hadn't seen each other for a year. He just about heard Ducky say, "It's been too long, Napoleon" as the two men had walked off arms linked. They had rejoined the crowd about half an hour later, but looking slightly more disheveled than when they had left.
Gibbs took another sip from his champagne. Much as he wanted to, he had no intention of getting drunk this night. Too many masked faces around, and while Ducky might be confident of the confidentiality surrounding this night; Gibbs wasn't about to let his guard down.
"This your first time?"
The voice came from behind him and nearly made Gibbs drop his champagne glass. He turned, ready to snap some comment, only to find himself transfixed by a man with a pair of the clearest blue eyes he'd ever seen.
The man took a sip from his glass and looked out at the dance floor. "This sort of thing isn't really my scene. I'm more into nightclubs and DJ's and all that."
Gibbs finally found his voice. "So why are you here?" Too late he remembered Ducky's words of warning about not prying too closely into the other guests lives. "Just for one night, Jethro, please be an ordinary person and not an investigator."
Fortunately his companion didn't seem too bothered about it. He shrugged what Gibbs could tell even through a tuxedo jacket, were a very well muscled set of shoulders and replied, "Buddy of mine at work...saw I'd been having a rough few months. Told me I needed a night off...a night where I could just relax and have fun and not have to worry about the real world for a while."
"My friend told me something similar," said Gibbs, he nodded towards the dance floor. "He appears to be taking his own advice."
"Good advice." The young man smiled at Gibbs and raised the glass to his lips again, tilting his head back to drain the last drops.
The eye contact broken, Gibbs found his eyes running the length of the young man's body, memorizing the details automatically as if he was going to write a report based on it. The man had obviously not had Ducky's attentions when it came to tying his tie, as it had come undone and was hanging down on either side of his neck. The top few buttons of his pristine white shirt were open as well, with just a trace of chest hair peeking out. Down lower, there was a pair of very tight trousers.
"Like what you see?"
Gibbs jerked his head up to see the younger man looking at him with an amused expression. "You don't mind?" was the first thing that came into his head.
"If I hadn't wanted people to look, I wouldn't have worn them," he said. "My buddy...lets just say he told me what sort of party this could turn out to be." He moved a step closer.
Gibbs tensed, and noticed how the young man's body language changed in response. "Hey, if you're not comfortable with it, that's cool. I mean, maybe we could just talk."
The trouble was, Gibbs wasn't really in a mood for 'just talking'. He knew it was a bad idea. Whatever Ducky said about confidentiality, Gibbs still didn't feel comfortable with the idea of dropping his guard so completely. He touched his mask automatically, to reassure himself that it was still in place. But the young man was standing so close to him and Gibbs was a step away from grabbing him and kissing that beautiful smile of his.
"Maybe we should find somewhere a little quieter," Gibbs finally managed to say. "To...to 'talk'."
"Whatever you say."
They found a small cubbyhole under one of the marble staircases. Far enough away from the music so they could talk comfortably. And then, to Gibbs's surprise, they *did* talk. Tony, for that was what the young man had suggested Gibbs call him, managed to talk about anything and everything, yet without giving away a single hint as to his life outside of the party. And this was in spite of Gibbs's best efforts at trying to subtly tease the information out of him.
"I tell you, Lee," said Tony, "That was the best damn movie ever made." He grabbed a handful of pretzels from the plate of food he'd acquired on their journey to this little sanctuary and crammed them into his mouth.
By now, Gibbs was willing to agree to whatever Tony said, anything to keep the younger man with him. He was starting to regret his earlier hesitation and wondered what Tony would do if he suggested doing *more* than just talking. Gibbs prided himself on being able to judge a person's character within a short time of meeting them, and he felt in his gut that this 'Tony' was somebody he could trust. Finally he opened his mouth to speak, "Tony..." was as far as he got before the music stopped and they could hear the band leader announce, "Ladies and gentlemen, and anybody else. It's coming up close to midnight, so if you would all charge your glasses and join us on the dance floor and we can count down to the New Year."
Gibbs cursed inwardly as Tony stood up, saying, "Guess we'd better rejoin the crowd." There seemed to be a trace of regret in his voice, or at least Gibbs hoped there was. He wasn't one for love at first sight, heck, he barely believed in love anymore. But all he knew was that this was something he didn't want to leave behind these four walls.
"Tony," he said quickly as they made their way back to the dance floor. "I've really enjoyed myself tonight."
"Me too, Lee," said Tony.
"And I..."
"Drinks gentlemen?" asked a waiter, hovering around with a tray full of champagne flutes.
A few seconds later, before Gibbs could continue his little speech, another bunch of revelers bumped into them, and Gibbs was separated from Tony. Through the crowd he could see as Tony was swept away towards the other end of the dance floor. They managed to make eye contact, Tony raising his glass with a grin. He tried to push his way through the crowd in the direction he'd last seen him, only to be caught on the arm by Ducky who asked, "Ah my dear friend, are you enjoying yourself?"
"Yes," said Gibbs, trying to avoid snapping at Ducky. "I'm just trying to catch up..." His voice trailed off as he realized that Tony was no longer where he had last seen him.
"Is something wrong, Je..." Ducky bit off the name. "Is something wrong, my friend?"
Gibbs shook his head, "I met somebody..."
"Oh then don't let me stop you." The bandleader was starting the countdown at thirty seconds to go.
"It's okay, Du...it's okay. I'll catch him afterwards. Once the crowd thins out a bit."
"Well if you're sure then, I'll be over in that alcove. The party usually fades a bit after midnight, and I told Mother's nurse that I wouldn't be late. So will you mind if we leave say in half an hour?"
"No problem."
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But finding Tony turned out to be more difficult a task than Gibbs had anticipated. After the New Year had been rung in and balloons and streamers had fallen from the ceiling, Gibbs had worked his way throughout the entire dance floor. The trouble was, with all the men wearing tuxedos and masks; it was very difficult to tell them apart. More than once, Gibbs had hurried up to a tall man with the right color hair, only to be disappointed. He mentally went through the description he was carrying in his head, "Six foot two, blue eyes, beautiful smile and answers to the name of Tony" It really wasn't much to go on and as the crowd thinned out a bit, Gibbs knew with a sinking feeling that he'd missed his chance. Tony, or whatever his name was, was gone, and Gibbs had only the memory of his smile to keep him warm throughout the long lonely nights.
He refused to dwell on what might have been, turning down Ducky's offer to try and help locate his 'Tony', and trying to pretend that it was all for the best. Three ex-wives was enough; the last thing he needed was to jump into a relationship on the rebound...again. He'd made that mistake with Marjorie, or ex number two as he thought of her.
So as usual, he threw himself into his work. Even started building that boat that he'd mentioned to Ducky. He was halfway through the frame before it occurred to him to measure the door of the basement, and by then he was committed.
So the time passed. Almost two years and Gibbs was on his way to yet another crime scene. This one in Baltimore, where the local PD's had called them in once they'd realized their victim was a sailor.
Gibbs had been in a foul mood to start with, and was just waiting for somebody to screw up so he could yell at them. Unfortunately for him, his team was competent and on the ball and so far hadn't given him any excuses.
Gibbs sipped his coffee as they pulled up to the crime scene. "Who's in charge here?" he called out as he raised the crime scene tape and walked over to where the body was sitting in a car.
"That would be me." A detective who had been crouched beside the car, looking through the window at the victim, stood and turned towards Gibbs. "Detective Anthony DiNozzo, Baltimore PD." And then he smiled and this time Gibbs didn't let him get away.
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"How did you get into N.C.I.S.?"
"I smiled."
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The End