Chapter Text
Tony woke to the sound of the city outside of his window bustling. Slowly he looked over at his alarm clock, 4:38 AM. It wasn’t the city outside of his window; recalling memories of the night before, he remembered leaving the TV on, one movie or another playing on it; the movie must’ve restarted somehow. Slowly he shifted, grunting when something hard started poking him in the back. Reaching underneath himself, he found the remote control. “So, I guess that’s why….” Tony whispered, slowly sitting up and turning the TV off.
Tony ran a hand down his face and yawned, scrubbing at his eyes. He was dreading going to work, given how painful it had been the past few months. Gibbs was gone, down in Mexico somewhere. Tony was the team lead, Ziva and McGee resented him, Abby doubted every move he made, Ducky was sympathetic but also mindfully absent. Palmer, well… Palmer somehow became Tony’s only friend in the sea of uncertainty being the team leader brought forth. His only other saving grace was Kate; she was always there, always helping him whenever he needed it – that’s why they were best friends, the bond that the two of them had could not be broken, no matter what.
After nearly dying (several times) at the hands of Ari Haswari, Kate had finally left NCIS, unable to cope with the aftermath that had brought upon her. Everyone understood, and they had thrown a big party to celebrate her short-lived time at NCIS. Of course, soon after leaving, Kate had been offered a relatively cushy job at the FBI; she wouldn’t be going out into the field anymore, wouldn’t have to be shot at. She was working as a profiler, staring at people from the other side of the one-way glass, looking for tells that would lead them to conviction.
Tony and Kate had stayed in contact after she left; they had become a lot closer, and Tony found Kate to be a confidant. Moreso, they confided in each other; the two of them had a lot of history together, and Tony needed Kate just as much as Kate needed Tony. Nothing ever happened between the two, and they had no intentions of letting anything happen, either. There was one thing that would always keep Tony from ever being attracted to Kate in more than just the ‘we are friends’ type of way – The truth of the matter was, Tony was irrevocably gay.
After finding that little truth out, Kate was confused but accepting of Tony’s secret, and she promised to keep it with her until Tony was ready to let it out into the world – Neither expected it to happen, not for a long while.
After heaving a sigh, Tony finally leveraged himself off of the couch and headed for the bathroom. He showered and changed into a crisp all-black Armani suit with a white button-up underneath; showing just under the cuff was the platinum Rolex with green face-plate that he had gotten himself a few Christmas’ ago. After getting his hair in perfect working order, he headed out and grabbed his traveling mug, filling it with chamomile tea before heading out and down to his car. Dread filled his entire being as he grew nearer to the Navy Yard. Tony hated calling in sick, but today, he regretted his decision to get out of bed – or, in his case, the couch – at all.
Even though it was only five in the morning when Tony arrived and everything was silent, there was still a tendril of dread that lingered, mostly because he knew that it would come back tenfold in a couple of hours. Tony settled at his desk, Gibbs’ old desk, and began going through the substandard reports his two field agents had been giving him as of late. Errors were marked, comments were given, but he knew that neither Ziva nor McGee would correct the problems; he would spend tonight, as he did every night, re-writing their reports.
Tony knew from recent experiences that both of his field agents would be monumentally late for the workday, so at eight am, Tony got up and headed for the bathrooms to refresh himself, and then he ran to get a fresh mug of tea. He wasn’t even gone fifteen minutes when he returned to the bullpen, a low buzz of whispers filtering through all of the squads. Something had happened in the – he looked down at his watch quickly – 11 minutes and 32 seconds he’d stepped away from the bullpen.
When Tony got back to the MCRT’s section, he nearly dropped his traveling mug and spat the hot tea out of his mouth. Swallowing was a chore, but eventually, he managed. Tony’s eyes were riveted to a pair of very familiar blue eyes. The man attached to those eyes was sitting at his desk, and all Tony’s belongings were haphazardly thrown in a box, now sitting on the desk. “This your shit?” Gibbs questioned gruffly, eyes narrowing dangerously.
Tony nodded his head slowly, unable to take his eyes off of the man.
“Good. Put it somewhere else.” Gibbs lifted the box and tossed it on the floor at Tony’s unmoving feet.
Tony robotically did as he was told, picking up the box and dropping it back onto his old desk. “Y-you’re back.” He was finally able to speak, OK, sort of.
Gibbs merely grunted, turning his eyes downward to look at the rest of the stuff on his desk – None of it belonged to Tony, not this time.
For the remainder of the day, Tony was dumbfounded. Gibbs was back; McGee and Ziva were still making snide remarks and giving him a lot of grief. They hadn’t gotten a case, and Tony was thankful for it because he was sure that the MCRT was not ready to dive back into the nitty-gritty of solving crimes. Not when their entire world had been entirely turned upside down.
Ziva and McGee made sure that at exactly 5:00 PM, they were already standing on the elevator. Tony was still seated at his desk, still doing what he had been all day – fixing the reports of his two junior field agents, and, added to that, watching Gibbs from the corner of his eye, watching as he made mistake after mistake. Tony tried to feel some amount of bad for Gibbs, but after the abrupt way that Gibbs just quit and then came back, and the amount of shit that had been dumped on him, Tony’s ‘feel bad’ meter was practically empty.
Just as Tony was getting ready to leave for a few hours to catch up on sleep – he had hoped – Jen came down from her office and stopped at Tony’s desk “Agent DiNozzo, do you have a minute?” She asked, smiling in a somewhat kind fashion.
Tony almost said no, knowing that the Director probably had some hair-brained scheme up her sleeve – she always had a plan, some plot against someone – But, with a resigned sigh and a nod of his head, he stood up “For you, Director Shepard, I do.” Tony stated, collected his stuff, and then followed her up the stairs. Tony could feel Gibbs’ glaring blue eyes on him the entire time, and he didn’t have it in him to look back at the man; there was no love loss there.
Once Tony was in the office, he made himself comfortable on one end of the couch. Jen joined him moments later with her crystal carafe, pouring the both of them a small finger of bourbon. “I wanted to speak with you about your position here at NCIS – with the MCRT.” Jen got right down to it, taking a quick sip of her drink.
Tony figured as much; figured his interim leadership position was now being revoked with Gibbs’ return. “Let me save you the trouble, Director. I figured, already, that I’d be back to doing what I had been before Gibbs left…” Tony stopped when he saw Jen smiling and shaking her head – Was he wrong? Was he being fired? Had he done that horribly?
“No, no, Tony…” She chuckled and sat forward, setting her glass on the coffee table. “You’ve done exceptionally well,” Tony breathed a sigh of relief, the sudden fears cropping up being quickly doused. “I… I was hoping you would be interested in making your leadership role… Well, more permanent.” She lifted a finely manicured eyebrow slowly, looking at Tony with all the sincerity she could muster.
Tony blinked. Surely, Director Shepard was joking. Him? A Team Leader, an actual one? “M-me, ma’am?” Tony all but whispered, his eyes still showing the shock he felt. Tony took a sip of the bourbon, relishing and hating the burn of the liquid as it went down, but it helped him, helped center him at this moment.
Jen nodded her head. “Yes, you, Agent DiNozzo. You have proven yourself, time and time again, that you are more than capable of leading a team all on your own.” She grasped onto her glass again, taking another sip, this time resting the crystal cup on her knee. “Now, I don’t expect you to have your answer right away… I’d like you to think about it before you do make this decision. Just know that this offer is genuine, Agent DiNozzo, and it comes with a promotion as well.”
Well, Tony had figured the promotion part by himself – It wouldn’t do to have an SFA working as a team leader. After a moment, Tony nodded his head. “I’ll take the offer into serious consideration, Director.” Tony finished off his glass of bourbon and then looked at Jen through thick lashes. “Might I ask… Where is the field office I’d be working at?”
Jen smiled and reached over to a packet that was already pre-assembled, clearly contingent upon Tony’s acceptance of the position. “Here’s the basic information.” She grabbed her glass and the carafe, poured more liquid into it, and took another sip from the freshly poured liquor. Already she knew better than to pour Tony more, so instead, she leveled a look on him as he read through the pages.
Tony’s eyes quickly skimmed the pages within the manila folder. By the time he finished, his jaw was slack, and his eyes were wide. Slowly he looked up at Jen. “Hawai’i? A-are you sure?” Tony stammered, to which Jen just nodded her head, “I-I will have to think about it, Director. I-I appreciate the faith you have in me.” Now, he just wished he could stop stuttering like an idiot.
Jen stood, and so did Tony. “You deserve every amount of recognition, Agent DiNozzo. You have been an asset to NCIS – A far greater one than some agents I have seen through FLETC.” She smiled, stretching her hand out, and when Tony reciprocated, the two shared a firm handshake. “Now, go home… Take a couple of days and think it over, OK?”
Tony nodded, and with one last handshake, he collected his belongings – and the folder – and headed for the door. As soon as Tony got down to the parking garage, he quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit the number one speed-dial; no longer was it Gibbs, but Kate’s number “Kate… Meet me at our spot. We NEED to talk!” Tony barked down the phone, barely giving Kate a chance to say ‘hi’ or ‘bye’ before he was hanging up and peeling out of the garage like a mad man.