SquidgeWorld Archive

* When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head *

The call comes at 4:30 in the morning. London, bombings, possible terrorist attack. Gibbs doesn't have to hear more. He's up and dressed in under five minutes, just like when he was a private in the Marines getting ready for a surprise training exercise. He runs down the stair, grabbing his keys on the way out.

The sound of the radio makes the drive to NCIS headquarters a little less quieter, but it certainly doesn't make it nicer. No matter what people tell you, the mind goes back to that horrible day, September 11th, no need to mention the year. Too many friends dead at the Pentagon. Too many people blaming themselves because they hadn't seen it coming, and Gibbs knows that it's pure bullshit. You can see it coming, you can stare it in its face, but you can't stop it. Ari proved it to him, and Kate paid the price of it.

Gibbs sighs, trying to push thoughts of Ari away. He needs a clear head, needs to concentrate on his job, in case... He doesn't want to think what the 'in case' could be, because there are plenty of people, just like him, people who spend their lives protecting this country.

He parks his car, and sees that Tony is already there. He wonders if the young man ever leaves the building anymore. He'll have to ask Abby to get him security tapes to check, but again the thought is pushed to later. Now, they have to get ready for the morning rush hour, and make sure that all their known terrorists are not in DC, and if they are... Gibbs wouldn't mind introducing them to his gun. Up, close, and personal.

"Di Nozzo," he says as he walks out of the elevator.

"Director is already upstairs, Boss." Tony matches Gibbs's pace while they climb the stairs. "From what I hear, the Brits aren't saying anything officially, but...."

"Are we playing twenty questions, Di Nozzo? What do we know, unofficially?" Gibbs knows he isn't being fair, Tony has barely stopped to breath.

"It's Al Quaeda, Boss, at least unofficially." Tony stares at him for a moment. "I think the Director wants us to check on Ari and his little band of mentally instable men."

Gibbs turns, and he can't stop the wicked smile from forming on his face. They have been warned off from investigating Kate's murder. They are too involved is the official reason. The FBI still wants Ari alive is the real reason. Although Abby has not so gently pointed out that everyone thinks he's even more insane than usual. "I hope the bastard is here."

"If he is, we'll catch him," Tony answers without a doubt.

"Bet your ass, we will." Gibbs opens the door of the MTAC, and steps inside. The room is in a buzz, with people sitting and taking notes. Director Morrow is standing in the middle of the room, watching the giant screen, as maps and pictures flash quickly. Gibbs walks toward the Director. "Good morning, Sir."

"Not even dawn, and it's already a crappy day. We have all units on the field." Morrow hands Gibbs a file. "FBI latest on Ari. He's probably not here, but if he is I want to know. You have carte blanche for today. I can't guarantee what happens tomorrow."

Gibbs nods. He hates the political games, but understands them well. Today all bets are off, and he can kill the bastard without anyone batting an eye. If he can't, he can still collect information to be used at the right moment. "If he's here, I'll find him."

Morrow dismisses him with a nod, and Gibbs heads for downstairs with Tony at his heels. He briefly looks at the file before handing it to Tony.

"Lots of bank accounts, names... we can split up the search," Tony murmurs. "You'll have to get out your glasses," Tony adds softly.

Gibbs stops suddenly, causing Tony to bump into him. "What did you say?"

"I... I said that Probie and I can do this while you... "

"While I go see what's not in the report," Gibbs finishes.

"Fornell... Of course." Tony's eyes are back on the report. "I'm going to ask Abbs to help us with the computer stuff, if she isn't busy."

"She'll find the time. She wants Ari as much as we do." Gibbs goes to his desk, and finds his gun and badge before heading out. "Nice save, Di Nozzo," he says as he enters the elevator. He turns in time to see Tony's grin, and grins back. It's good to know that some things don't change, but then a pang hits him. Things do change, and one of his agents paid the price.

~*~*~*~

* When you feel the world shake from the words that are said *

They work all day, following leads, doing computer searches. They are so close that Gibbs can savor it: the bittersweet taste of revenge.

"Boss, I think I've got something," McGee says, from behind his screen.

"You think or you do, McGee?" Gibbs snaps back, knowing that a softer approach would unnerve his agents more than anything he can yell at them.

"I do, Boss, but..." McGee sighs, and stands up. He looks between Gibbs and Tony like he wants to hide from them both. "He left the States a week ago. I think the Bureau knew that, or at least some of them."

"Where is he? Can we find him?" Tony beats Gibbs's question.

"France, Paris. If we move quickly, we might find him before he leaves again," McGee says, but his tone is apologetic, because he knows that they won't be allowed to go to France. He knows and accepts it, which is more than Tony or Gibbs can do.

McGee doubts that the Director is willing to send Gibbs anywhere further than Virginia, not with the hair trigger temper he has shown lately. People run away the moment they see his face. Only Tony and Abby are still willing to put themselves between Gibbs and his moods.

He looks at Tony and shares one of those few moments when they actually understand each other with a simple glare. Before he sits down, and starts to work on anything that isn't Ari, because he knows that it's not the right time yet, but they will get him.

Gibbs, however, doesn't get it. He is still on the phone, talking to Morrow, telling him what they have learned, asking to go. He listens, while shaking his head in frustration. He talks some more, but McGee knows what the result will be. He didn't even need the phone call to know.

Gibbs bangs his phone down and looks up. "We are needed here, because we are on code Orange."

Tony nods, clearly upset, but sits behind his desk, going back to work.

"The son of a bitch said she's not important." He always speaks of his superiors with respect, years in the Marines have drilled that into Gibbs. You might hate them, but you respect them. This time he can't respect his own Director. Gibbs breaks a pencil and throws it across the room, before getting up and leaving. "Go home," he says belatedly as he enters the elevator.

~*~*~*~

*And I'm calling all angels; I'm calling all you angels I won't give up if you don't give up*

Gibbs sands his boat, but his mind is everywhere but here. Two months have gone by since Kate's death, and he's done nothing. It's unacceptable in his mind. He was her superior, her boss; he was responsible for her. He should have protected her; he should have avenged her.

He takes another swig from the bourbon's bottle. He's not drunk yet, but he's getting there. Only alcohol can make him question what he's doing, while he's still with NCIS. After all, what's the point of working, of devoting your entire life to serve your country when your country won't let you do your job?

He's asked that before, but there is no answer, and he's starting to think that maybe there is no point, maybe he's better off quitting, enjoying his pension and his boat.

"Boss?"

He frowns when he hears Tony's voice, and the young man is standing only a few feet from him. He must be drunker than he thought if he didn't hear Tony before. "What do you want, Di Nozzo?" The question is immediate, instinctual, barked with just the right amount of hostility, meant to drive Tony away, but Tony never does what he's supposed to do, and suddenly they are even closer.

"You left rather abruptly; I wanted to make sure you were okay." He turns toward the stairs. "I thought you had agreed to lock your door."

"No, Kate wants-" He stops when he hears what he's saying, talking about her as if she were still alive. "Kate told me I am supposed to lock my door. I chose to ignore her. A lock won't stop someone like Ari."

"I know, but it might slow him down," Tony suggests. "Give you enough time to react, although I doubt you can shoot at the moment." He looks at the bottle suspiciously. "Don't you think you had enough? It's not going to help, you know?"

Gibbs snorts. "Now, you're giving me lessons. Di Nozzo, go home."

"I know what alcohol does. Not only to the person who's doing the drinking."

The intensity is coming off in waves from Tony, it's like raw fire and Gibbs thinks he might just be burned if he doesn't move back, if he doesn't look away from those expressive face. He does an about-face, and rested his hands on the edge of the shelf. "I wasn't drinking when he killed her," he whispers.

"I never said you were..." Tony steps closer, and puts a hand on Gibbs's shoulder. It's only a brief touch at first, before Tony squeezes gently. "We'll get him, Boss. We have to keep trying."

Gibbs turns around, angry because he doesn't want to try, angry that Tony is more willing than he is, angry with Ari for killing their Kate, and angry with the world for the senseless deaths. "Maybe I don't want to try anymore."

"You don't mean that," Tony answers with conviction in his voice. "You're tired of dealing with all the pencil pushers. I understand that, but you don't want to stop. This is who we are, who you are."

"Di Nozzo, stop telling me what I want!" Gibbs snaps back.

"Why? So you can stand in this basement, getting drunk out of your mind." Tony shakes his head. "Sorry, Boss, I can't do that, and you know why? Because for all your bitching, when I have needed your help, you've always given it, whether I wanted it or not."

Gibbs tries to break away from Tony's gaze before the pity and sympathy in Tony's eyes break him. He's the strong one, the one who doesn't need anyone (although his wives would say something different). "It's not your job to protect me."

"I'm not protecting you; I'm being a friend. I know that's a foreign concept for you." Tony finally turns; he walks to the boat, running his fingers over the wood. "I'll go if you want. I only wanted you to know that you don't have to be alone or rely on... on that," he says pointing at the bottle.

"I'm not relying on it," he answers stubbornly. Why Tony is making such a big deal is beyond him. It's not like he gets drunk every night.

"If you say so." Tony hesitates, sighing before he looks all determined again, just like he does when he's after a perp. "Look, I don't have many friends either. There are my frat brothers, but that's different. Kate, Abby, Probie and you are family. That's because we want us to be a family. Even if she's... even if Kate isn't here anymore, she's still family and we have to do what we can to make her death mean something."

"Death never means-"

"Shut up, will you?" Tony says angrily. "You better than any of us know that death can have meaning. Or are you saying that the deaths of our soldiers mean nothing, that their sacrifice is in vain?"

Gibbs is stunned by the anger and the audacity in Tony's voice. The young man has never even looked at Gibbs the wrong way, and as much as Tony's words sting, he likes this side of Tony, full of confidence in every gesture and every word.

Of course, Tony still needs to shut up, and fucking now, but Tony doesn't seem to understand that, because he's still rambling. "You can't tell me that, can you? Then, don't tell me Kate's death was in vain. She was protecting those sailors and their families; she was protecting you."

That's the crux of the matter; the painful knowledge that keeps him awake at night. "Don't you think I know that, Tony? If it weren't for me she'd still be alive."

"If it weren't for you, she might have died before. Or if it weren't for me..." Tony's stance softens, Gibbs can see the muscle relaxing under the tight T-shirt, the feet paring in an 'at ease' position. "That's what we do: we protect each other. I know you've never lost a man before, but don't insult us by thinking that you are the only reason we stay alive. I'm good at what I do, and so is Probie, and Kate... she was damn good. Stop taking all the blame because that would mean that all the credit for what she did belongs to you, and she... she doesn't deserve that," he ends, sounding more tired than angry.

"Are you done, Di Nozzo?" Tony nods, and Gibbs is glad, because he doesn't know what he would do if Tony would challenge him at the moment. "Good, now you listen to me. I know you're good, all of you, or you wouldn't be in my unit."

"Right," Tony mutters under his breath.

"Bet your ass that's right. I'm also not taking credit for anything, but she was my responsibility, and..." Gibbs turns, frustration building inside him, because no matter how he ends the sentence, he sounds like an arrogant jerk, like he's more concerned with his failure than Kate's life. He sweeps his hand over his work area, pushing everything on the floor, hoping for something to make him feel better, a sign that it's all right to stop torturing himself. "I should have protected her."

Again, he feels Tony getting close, until their bodies are almost touching, and not for the first time he wonders why they ignore personal space when it comes to one another.

"She shouldn't have died, but there was nothing you could have done."

They are so close now that when Tony speaks his breath tickles Gibbs's neck. Gibbs is already on edge after working uselessly all day long, after drinking too much, after Tony's attempt at consoling him. The closeness and intimacy are the last straw. He spins around. They're standing toe to toe, and he opens his mouth to tell Tony off, but the words don't come, but instead he says, "Why are you here, Tony?"

"I told you-"

"No, the real reason. Kate has been dead a month, so why tonight?"

Tony blinks, then shrugs. "I thought you needed a friend."

"A friend?" Gibbs pauses, waiting for more, but Tony is still looking at him with something too akin to pity. No one pities him, no one should try it and be left standing. "I know why you left Philly and Peoria." Even the flinch isn't enough to make him feel guilty. Or maybe just a little.

"This has nothing to do with that," Tony says coldly. "I came here to offer my friendship, but I see that it's not wanted." He walks away, but stops with a hand on the rail, and a foot on the step. He looks calmly at Gibbs. "I've never talked about any guys at work. In fact, with all my talk about women, if anyone found out that I'm bi, he'd die of shock. For you to imply that I am so desperate for a fuck that I'd take advantage of the situation... well fuck you, Gibbs. Fuck you and the high horse you rode in."

"I thought you weren't here to get laid." Somewhere between three wives and a lifetime serving his country, he's turned into a fucking teenager. Or maybe he's too old. Too old and too tired of feeling alone with the entire world on his shoulders. A self-imposed duty, that's for sure, but it doesn't change the fact that he feels worn down. He sags against his workstation while he stares at Tony, noting how anger looks better than pity on the other man's face. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have..."

"Fuck right you shouldn't have." Tony sits on the steps, elbows on his knees, hands together. He turns his head to look at Gibbs. "I have a question: why the games? Getting close, the touching, the innuendos. I always assumed they were part of your tough sergeant routine, but if you knew... real men don't like to get so close to queers."

It's Gibbs's turn to wince. Tony sounds like he's repeating someone else's words, words that have left their mark, and he hates seeing Tony so hurt, always has. "You fuck too many women to be queer," he says with a smile, and happily notices that Tony smiles back.

"I'm bi, but the rest is true." He gets up again, closing their distance once more. "Why the games, Gibbs?"

Gibbs shakes his head, refusing to be intimidated by their vicinity. "No games. It's how I act."

Tony snorts. "You never did it with Kate, although I'm sure she'd have decked you. You don't do it with Probie, who, by the way, would have a heart attack if he felt you so close. Abby...sometimes, but she gets a kick out of it. So why me?"

Good question, one that Gibbs has posed himself in those rare nights that he open to introspection. He still hasn't come up with an answer, and he gives Tony what he can. "I know you won't deck me, won't report me for harassment, won't die in fear, and...." And there is a thrill that he gets when he feels Tony's body tense against his in surprise, or when he feels the heat from the other man, or when he sees those smiles directed at him. There are so many other reasons, things he won't admit even when in an introspective mood, but today has been a fucked up day, the entire month has been fucked up, and he can always blame it on the bourbon, so he buries his hands in Tony's hair, and pulls him closer, crashing their mouths together.

He never thought about kissing a guy, but he's pretty sure that this isn't what's supposed to happen, because Tony's hands are on his shirt, but he's pushing him away, and really with all his experience, he should know that tongue makes kissing much better.

"Gibbs... just..." Tony pulls back, but his hands stays on Gibbs's shirt. "We can't... You... you're straight... okay, so maybe you aren't, but this is still a bad idea. I still work for you, and you're drunk, and you haven't been acting like yourself lately."

"When the fuck have you been the responsible one?" Gibbs asks annoyed. This would be a good time to step back, break the contact, but he's reluctant to let go.

"When you're acting like a teenager. Don't get me wrong, it's fun to try to solve every problem by kissing every hot guy-"

"Who says you're hot?" Gibbs asks with a smirk.

"I know I'm hot," Tony answers, his voice full of arrogance. "Still, do you really want to break your own rules and get involved with someone you work with? Hell, do you want to get involved with me?"

"I wasn't thinking long term here."

"No, you weren't thinking at all, Gibbs, because you know you're too old fashioned to have a one-night stand. Then tomorrow, we'll see each other at work, and you won't know how to act, and then I'll end up moving to San Diego or some other NCIS office. So why don't we stop while things are still semi okay?"

"Don't tell me what I'm like, Di Nozzo." Things would be so much easier if he were the person that everyone believes him to be: a man with no doubts, no moral quandaries, a man who sees the world in black and white. Gibbs rests his forehead against Tony's, and it feels like a conquest when Tony doesn't move away. "Me kissing you was a bad idea. Me wanting to do it again is a fucking horrible idea, but I can't force you here. I won't even push like I would if you weren't working for me. The reality is that you are, and I don't want you to think that your job is related to..."

Tony chuckles. "To us fucking? Yeah, well, if you can't even say it, then you know it's wrong." He draws back until they are staring at each other. "Tell you what, Gibbs. Ask me again when you're completely sober, when we haven't spent the day listening to reports of terrorist attacks, when you don't want to kill our own director, when you can tell me that you want to kiss me while looking at me in the face, and... and I'll consider it, okay?"

"I'm not that drunk, Tony, but..." He nods. "All right, we'll both see how we feel when things aren't so screwed up."

"Good, because if you think sex will make you feel better for more than a few minutes, then we found out the reason for three failed marriages," Tony says with a smile.

"I said all right, Tony," Gibbs answers curtly, but he's still smiling.

"Whatever you decide, if you just want to talk, or bark at someone... I don't scare easily." He leans in, and kisses Gibbs's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow," he mumbles before leaving with light speed.

Gibbs is left standing in his basement, chuckling to himself. This entire night has been surreal, and Tony's departure was even weirder. When he asked for a sign, he never thought it would come in the form of Anthony Di Nozzo. He looks up, and smiles. "You're laughing at us, aren't you, Kate?" He looks around the room. He needs to clean up, but not tonight. Tonight, he's getting some sleep, and tomorrow, he can deal with his life... and Tony.