Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Tony stopped the car in his usual spot in the Navy Yard and breathed out deeply.

It was a clear day.  The sun was out.  The sky free of clouds.  Washington D.C. was beginning to feel the warming rays of Summer sunshine.

It felt like an omen. 

A signal.

He took another deep breath and got out of the car.  He paused though, suddenly knowing he wasn’t going to just do what he always did; to grab his bag from the passenger seat, to head into the building; to take the path and the steps he’d been taking day after day, year after year.

He stood instead by the side of his car.  He rested his arms on top and looked over at the entrance. 

He’d stayed for a lot longer than he had thought he ever would.

Stayed beyond his original two years limit.

Stayed when they’d lost Kate.

Stayed despite Ziva David’s addition to the team.

Stayed because of Ziva David’s addition to the team.

Stayed when Leroy Jethro Gibbs had gone.

Stayed when Leroy Jethro Gibbs had come back.

He’d stayed too long.

Tony wasn’t surprised at the footsteps he heard; the soft march of them coming to a stop beside him.  The scent of coffee and sawdust seeped into the air. 

“Hey,” Gibbs said evenly.

“Hey,” Tony replied.  He could feel Gibbs’ eyes on him; he didn’t hide anything, didn’t put on his usual masks.  There was no point, not anymore.

“You’re leaving,” stated Gibbs.

Tony nodded, still looking over at the entrance to the building which had been a home from home for most of his time there.  He didn’t say anything more because he knew Gibbs would figure it out.

Gibbs sighed and settled in beside him; arms on the top of the car, his ubiquitous coffee carry-cup in his hands. “Now?  Really, DiNozzo?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. 

Gibbs had his memory back.  The operation with Jeanne was over and he had made it out, bruised and scarred and hurt, but he had made it out.  Life had moved on.  Cases had come and gone.  Just like last week when they had wrapped up the Case of the Missing Experimental-And-Does-Not-Actually-Work Radar.

Working with Detective Sparr had been a good kick in his ass.  It had reminded him why he’d gotten into police work in the first place.  It had reminded him of everything he hadn’t realised he wasn’t feeling anymore.

“I guess when it’s time, it’s time,” Tony said out loud.

Gibbs gave a low hum of agreement.  “I can’t talk you round?”

“No,” Tony frowned, “well, you probably could because you’re you, Boss, but…”

“But,” Gibbs repeated, “it wouldn’t be what you really want.”

Tony laughed shortly.  “I’m not sure what I really want.”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” Gibbs suggested with his typical frankness.

Tony breathed in sharply.  “You’re not wrong.” 

“Well, you go,” Gibbs said, “you go, you figure it out.”  He shrugged.  “We’ll be here.”

Tony felt relief swamp him at Gibbs’ understanding. 

“You coming in to tell them?” Gibbs asked.

Tony shook his head.  He had a feeling if he took a step inside, he’d never leave.  He grimaced at the thought of how Abby was going to take the news.  He figured McGee and Ziva would be disappointed but ultimately they’d move on and accept a new partner.  He’d miss Ducky and Palmer.  Hell, he’d miss all of them.  He just couldn’t face them and say goodbye.

“I’ll call them,” Tony promised. 

“You’d better,” Gibbs retorted, “or Abby will track your ass down and shoot you.”

Tony laughed, because it was true.  He finally turned and looked at the man who had been more than his mentor.  Gibbs’ cool blue eyes held his for a long moment.  He set his coffee down and moved forward.  Tony shifted to accept the older man’s embrace; Gibbs’ hand at the back of his neck, solid and firm, Gibbs’ arm around him was tight.  Tony held Gibbs just as tightly.

“You’re the best agent I’ve worked with and I am very proud of you, Anthony,” Gibbs whispered into his ear.  “Rule 5.”

Rule 5; don’t waste good.

Tony breathed in.  It had been a long time since he had felt good, felt that he was on the right path.   “Boss.”

They eased back naturally. 

Gibbs kept a hand clasped around Tony’s neck and let him gather himself.  His blue eyes remained on Tony’s until he saw something which led him to give a sharp nod of satisfaction.  He patted the back of Tony’s head softly in a parody of the usual head-slaps that he had given him in the past. 

Gibbs stepped back.

Tony reached to his belt and unclipped his badge.  He unhooked the holster with the gun safely strapped in and handed both off to Gibbs. 

Gibbs saluted him with them.  “Safe winds and fair weather, DiNozzo.”

“You too, Boss,” Tony said.  “Semper fi.” 

He watched Gibbs walk away, watched as he entered the building and disappeared.  Tony got back in his car. 

It was time to head in a different direction.

fin.