Chapter Text
“This case has been one for the books," Tony DiNozzo muttered to himself, as he finally settled into his desk chair, glad to be off his feet for what felt like the first time in almost a day-and-a-half. Having worked for Leroy Jethro Gibbs for the better part of a decade now, it certainly wasn't his first Christmas that he'd worked through. In truth, it wasn't even the first Christmas they'd been scheduled to take off, where he'd ended up working anyway. Working through this holiday, and pretty much every recognised holiday on the Federal calendar, whether scheduled or not,seemed pretty much par for the course when you worked for a certain Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Only this case had gotten under his skin a little, and it started with having to deal with Metro PD detective Justin Kemp, who happened to be the guy who'd landed his 'one that got away'. Lauren had been gorgeous, both in body and spirit; it didn't hurt that she had a fabulously wealthy father either. But their four month relationship hadn't survived Gibbs’ work demands, frequently working days on end and having to cancel dates all too often. Then there were the times he was able to show up for a date, then struggle to stay awake beyond the appetiser, because he hadn't slept in thirty six hours. It was a sad commentary that a homicide detective in a city with such a high murder rate as Washington DC worked considerably less hours than the members of NCIS’ MCRT.
Now they'd all (Gibbs excepted, of course) celebrated the season with his annual ritual of watching 'It's A Wonderful Life', though not normally in MTAC, and enjoying his homemade caramel popcorn, Tony was trying to make a decision. Should he take the quick power nap at his desk and make the drive home safer? Or take his chances in his sleep deprived state and crash for twelve hours or more in his own bed. Then Tony heard the voices of Abby & MeGee heading his way and folded over his desk, feigning sleep, simply not in the mood to deal with another human being, even a team-mate right now.
"How's the muscle shakes doing now?" Abby was concerned that her Timmy had been on the receiving end of a Taser earlier in the day, and it was his first experience with that weapon so up close and personally.
"Settling down mostly. Have to say, I've had better Christmas presents than that, by a long way." It had not been the greatest of days for the MCRT’s resident computer guru.
“Oh, I bet. Speaking of Christmas presents, why are you guys so hard to buy for?" Abby's complaint was accompanied by a gentler than usual punch to Tim's shoulder, in recognition of his earlier travails. "I even asked Gibbs what to get you all!"
"I'm guessing that went as well as we'd all expect?" Tim could have his socially inept moments, but even he would refuse to go down that path of guessing just what the Boss might have replied. After all, you never knew when was listening and in position to deliver a forceful head slap if he thought you misspoke.
"I asked him what I should get for Tony. Do you know what he said? An attitude adjustment! Then he sent me home. Now how was that in any way helpful?" Abby was less than impressed with her ‘Silver Fox’s’ idea.
The duo rounded the corner of the dividers delineating the team's work area and Tony settled his head more comfortably on his forearms as he faked the sleep he desperately craved. Gibbs' apparent throwaway line had set a cascade of thoughts off in his brain, and the last thing he needed was to have to play this one off as a joke with his coworkers, not on Christmas night. Nor with the people that he halfway saw as family.
Abby cooed at the sight of the seemingly exhausted senior field agent asleep at his desk. She approached softly, planning for once to wake him gently and send him home. Tony saved her the effort by appearing to startle awake. In no time, he'd gathered his winter coat and go-bag, offered hasty Christmas wishes and farewells, then hightailed it for the stairs. The last thing he wanted to do was wait for the elevator and make small talk with Abby and McGee all the way down to his parking space.
One thing about working on Christmas Day, Tony mused, was that the commute home to his apartment from the Navy Yard, was remarkably quicker than normal. Then again, it was approaching midnight and this was sadly not an unusual time for him to be returning home from work. He was soon able to escape inside and let his masks down at last. Dropping his keys in the bowl by the door, he dumped his go-bag to be cleaned out and replenished later, locked away his handgun and toed off his shoes before collapsing on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table. Tony let his head fall back onto the sofa cushions and stared at the ceiling. His stomach grumbled, reminding him he'd barely stopped to eat that day, yet he couldn't find an ounce of motivation to get up and pull a serving of his homemade lasagna from the freezer, despite the fact it sounded really good.
Heaving a sigh, Tony stood and went into the kitchen. He'd stocked up earlier in the week, anticipating spending Christmas alone. He retrieved the gourmet charcuterie board from his favourite Italian specialty grocers, added some crusty bread, a few olives and a little fruit and decided that would be a fine yet simple dinner. And frankly, simple was all he had the energy for at that moment. Half an hour later, the remains of his dinner sitting on the coffee table before him, a glass of a very nice Barolo being swirled in his hand, and Tony acknowledged he was going to have to address the very large elephant in the room.
In truth, Gibbs' comment hadn't truly surprised him. It wasn't uncommon for the boss to throw a one-line zinger into the conversation periodically. Tony was convinced the senior agent did it to remind everyone who was the boss and keep them all on their toes. And let's face it, Gibbs on a good day wasn't one to coddle his agents, or really, even act like a halfway decent human being most of the time. What had thrown Tony, hearing Abby relay that comment, was the out of character aspects of when and how Gibbs had made that pronouncement. Usually his team lead liked to throw those lines out personally; he liked to see when he hit his mark.
“Must be both the sniper and that second B in him,” Tony muttered to himself.
The fact that his boss had said such a thing to Abby, who was out of the chain of command for the MCRT, no matter how much she tried to force them into the mould of team as family, was out of character. He had the suspicion that this wasn't just a throwaway line, but the man's real thoughts. At this moment though, he just wished Gibbs was a little less passive-aggressive (emphasis on the aggressive) when it came to HR issues or managing the personnel on this team; he had labelled his team lead a 'functional mute’ early in their working relationship. Right now, it would help him immensely to know if Gibbs really had an issue with him, or if his comment to Abby was just a throwaway line. One of those options meant he'd be considering some major life changes. But he knew bearding Gibbs in his den and trying to get a clear answer would inevitably end in ugly failure.
At an impasse, Tony decided it was time to take the most sensible approach. He refilled his nearly empty glass of wine (the bottle was just too good to let sit there), refilled his plate with the leftovers on the coffee table in front of him, making a nice crusty bread sandwich, then turned on the TV to see what Christmas movies were still playing. Scanning the channel listings, the appearance of one of his guilty Christmas movie pleasures popped up. He'd never admit this to another human being but it truly was hard to resist 'A Muppet Christmas Carol’. Shelving his issues for now, he took a sip of his wine and settled in to watch his second best favourite movie of the season. After all, this dilemma would still be there in the morning and he'd had little enough Christmas enjoyment this year. In no time at all, he was chuckling away at the Muppet antics, content to leave be all the things he couldn't fix for now. After all, as Scarlett O'Hara had once said, 'Tomorrow is another day’.
~~~●●●~~~
Things unfortunately didn't look or feel all that much better when tomorrow arrived way too early the next morning. The only good thing was that Tony had avoided overindulging on the wine, so at least it arrived without a hangover. Fortunately, the team was stood down until the twenty-ninth of the month, so he still had three whole days before he would have to face the team, and perhaps more importantly, Gibbs again. Sitting down on his sofa once more, coffee with hazelnut creamer and the omelette he'd thrown together out of whatever looked interesting in his fridge ready before him, Tony decided a little Magnum might clear this mood, which the Muppets the night before had not quite been able to fully achieve. Picking an episode at random on the DVD already in the player, breakfast went down a treat when accompanied by the beautiful sights and sounds of Hawaii, improved by the addition of Tom Selleck and his gorgeous red Ferrari. Ah, what he could do with a sweet ride like that. Certainly not drive it like an old granny, as McGee was well-renowned for doing in that Porsche of his. Mid-episode his cellphone rang and Tony prayed that it wasn't dispatch or
Gibbs planning to ruin his long weekend off. Thankfully, it was neither, but rather a much more pleasant surprise.
"Hi Rick, happy Boxing Day,” he answered, in a sickeningly cheerful manner, just to rile his long-time friend and fellow agent a bit.
"Only you, Tony, would be celebrating obscure British holidays." Rick had no problem with dishing it back.
"Hey, I am half-British as you well know. And that holiday is celebrated throughout the rest of the British Commonwealth as well. I remember my Mom telling stories of her family giving the help the day off after all their hard work for Clinstmas Day. As a little girl, she loved to help parcel up the gift boxes they handed out to their employees." Tony's voice was both wistful and a little sombre, as it always was when he talked about his mother, whom he'd lost as a boy,
"Well, how about you come see how the other half lives? Kristy says the leftovers are somehow magically multiplying in the fridge, so they need to get eating for everyone's safety, and you know Zach and Shelly love to see their favourite Uncle Tony any chance they can." Tony had known the couple since before their kids arrived, so he'd always had that honorary status and held it proudly. "And I know you had to work the holiday yesterday so I'm guessing, as usual, you didn't get to see anything approaching a real Christmas dinner." Rick was not a fan in the slightest of the way Gibbs ran or looked after (he argued he mostly didn't) his team.
"You'd be guessing right, as usual. But Vance did let us have MTAC to watch any favourite movie, so at least I didn't miss out on my caramel popcorn." Rick snorted in amusement at his friend's rejoinder. "But leftovers sound good. What time should I head on over?"
"Come whenever you're ready. It might be a little too cold to shoot any hoops, though I bet the kids will try to talk you into it. But they got loads of new games yesterday, and there's always the old board games and jigsaw puzzles to pull out if push comes to shore."
"Sounds great actually. I'll grab a shower and get on my way. Do you need me to pick anything up?" He knew he wouldn't be showing up empty handed. He always kept a bottle of Kristy's favourite brut champagne on hand. It was hard to beat a good old-fashioned mimosa.
"Nah, just get on over here when you can."
They ended the call and Tony grabbed a pair of his most comfortable worn-in jeans, along with an OSU hoodie to go over a buttery soft long sleeved t-shirt. A quick shower and shave saw him grabbing the bottle of bubbly and his keys and heading out the door. Spending the day with the Balboas beat anything he could have come up with as an alternative.
The day was indeed a good one: the leftover ham and leg of lamb roast made for some awesome sandwiches, and the boys all competed to see just how high they could stack the fillings and still be able to get a bite of it, much to Kristy and Shelly's amusement. The sun cleared midafternoon, which meant Uncle Tony was dragged out to the basketball hoop in the driveway for a bit of a coaching session. Though when Tony started to cough, his asthma aggravated a little by the cold, dry air, Rick put his foot down and sent them all back inside again. Which inevitably led to another raid on the fridge when Tony's puffer did its job, and Zach insisted they needed leftover apple pie and ice cream to replenish their energy. All in all, everyone had a good time just hanging out, with the kids eagerly showing off their Christmas loot to their uncle, and Kristy pulling a tub of her homemade chicken enchilada soup out of the freezer for an easy supper. It didn't take too long for the kids to head to their rooms after that, played out by several days of excitement. Kristy took herself off for a long soak in the tub after insisting that Tony spend the night in the guestroom that had become his over the years.
Now left to their own devices, Rick and Tony grabbed a beer each from the fridge and planted themselves on the couch, lazily pretending to watch the bowl game playing quietly in the background, "You've been a touch quieter than usual today, Tony," Rick commented. "Tougher case than usual or something else going on?"
A bit unsurprised that his friend could read him so well, he replied, "Eh, a little from column A and a little from column B."
A concerned look on Rick's face had the younger man spilling the beans about working with the husband of his ex-girlfriend, along with the angst related to Ned Quinn's case and that Ziva had been roasting him about not being married or having kids, kind of implying he'd missed the boat as far as having a family of his own was concerned. Guessing that Tony hadn't shared the entirety of what was on his mind, Rick pushed a little more, gently but still determined to get to the bottom of what was bugging his friend. "So the column B stuff, was that Gibbs or somebody else on the Team?"
"Both, in a way, I guess. I heard Abby talking to McGee about how difficult we were to shop for. Apparently she even asked Gibbs for his option as to what I needed. It seems his answer was 'an altitude adjustment’."
"Whoa, that's low, even for 'the second B’,” which was Rick's play on Gibbs' penchant for telling all and sundry that the second ‘B’ in this name stood for bastard. "Usually he'd at least say something to your face if you'd done something to warrant that statement.
"That or he would just headstop me silly," Tony replied, trying to inject a little levity into the situation.
"And you already know what I think of that delightful habit," Rick argued.
Barely suppressing a sigh, Tony explained, "There's something different these days, though. We both know he never came back one hundred percent from the explosion and amnesia. And goodness knows how many brain cells got pickled even further down in Mexico. But since Vance broke the team up, things haven't gelled quite like they used to. Not the team as a solid unit and certainly not how Gibbs is relating to each of us."
"Think he's getting burnt out and just doesn't know how to recognise it and do something about it?" It wasn't the first time the idea had crossed Rick's mind.
This time Tony did sigh, "I just don't know, but if he's saying stuff like that directly to Abby, who we all know can't keep a secret to save herself, and she's already told SpreadtheGossip, then the whole building will know about it come Monday morning. I just don't know if I want to keep coming into a work environment when it seems my boss isn't happy with my performance and yet he's willing to tell everybody else but me. To be honest, I'm starting to wonder why I bother to keep trying at NCIS."
Rick slung an arm around Tony's shoulder, intent on giving his friend some comfort and reassurance, knowing Tony had some tough times ahead of him. "You know you have a place on my team any time you want it? Right?"
Tony did indeed know, after all he missed very little of the scuttlebutt around the office, but in this case, Rick potentially having an opening for a senior field agent was an open secret. Janet, his second-in-command, had made it clear she was hoping to move out of a field position. At thirty-eight, she could hear her biological clock ticking, and she and her husband both preferred her to be out of the line of fire when she became pregnant. Of Rick's two junior agents, one was a fresh from FLETC babe in the woods probie, while Dave, the junior field agent was only twelve months out of his own probationary period and years away from being ready for a promotion. In fact, one of the more selfish reasons that Rick had for trying to lure Tony over to his team was that together they'd be able to train up the younger agents just right. Tony actually had enough seniority for a team of his own, but given Vance's attitude towards him, coupled with the fact he'd probably have to leave DC to do so, had stayed his hand from applying when vacancies had come up. As he'd become lost in his musings, Rick realised that Tony hadn't actually answered the question that had set his thoughts off running.
"Your silence is telling, my friend. Does the fact you're not immediately refusing my offer mean you're finally considering it, seriously?"
Tony stayed silent for a moment, then replied," Yeah, this time I really think I have to. It's pretty clear that any respect Gibbs might have had for me is disappearing into the wind. Add in that this is going to be fodder to the gossip pool at the office courtesy of Tim and Abby, which means Ziva will probably take every opportunity to put the boot in about it? Yeah, I think my time on the MCRT is done."
"Well, hallelijah!" Rick exclaimed, joyful that his best friend was finally going to look after himself for a change, whilst also being unhappy about the circumstances that had forced his hand.
Morosely, Tony responded, "Now all we have to do is get Vance to sign off on the transfer, and we both know he won't be happy about being pushed to do that. He might not like me all that much, but he also knows he's going to like dealing with Gibbs' reaction even less."
The leader of the second highest ranked team in the DC office then demonstrated why Rick Balboa might be a great guy to work for, but wasn't above steam rolling whatever blocked him from getting what his team needed. "I'll text the Director now and ask to meet with me tomorrow somewhere outside of the Yard. He knows I don't interrupt him during his or my downtime unless it's necessary, so I think he'll accept my request."
Putting his words into action, he picked up his phone and began sending the message as promised. Ten minutes later, the phone chimed with an incoming message, and Rick scanned the screen. "He's available at ten o'clock tomorrow, Wants to meet at that New York deli that's three blocks from the yard. Says I'm buying breakfast," he finished with a smirk.
"He's got good taste in food, at least. They have a great brunch menu; fantastic bagels and lox." Tony looked down at his decidedly casual outfit and started to get up to leave; he'd need a much dressier look in the morning, even if it was only khakis and a nice shirt.
Rick motioned for him to sit back down and relax."We can grab showers in the morning, then run by your apartment for a change of clothes. Because you know once Kristy and the kids hear about you coming over to my team, they'll make the rest of the weekend a celebration for you. If we leave a little earlier, you can pack for hanging out here and restock your go-bag for Monday morning. You know we'll be heading into the office in lockstep then, so there's no way anyone from your former team can ambush you before we get you settled at your new desk. I'll call Janet once we get confirmation from Vance in the morning. She's got a standing offer to work an analyst's desk in Counterterrorism-Counter Intelligence (CT/CI), so we'll probably only need a week or so to do the hand off. And there's already a spare desk in my bullpen, so this will be an easy switchover."
Holding up his beer bottle to clink with Rick's in celebration, Tony’s only response was, "From your mouth to God's ear!"
~~~●●●~~~
The meeting with Vance the next morning frankly went better than expected. After being given the Cliffs notes version of Rick's plans to steal Tony away to join his team, Vance gave the SFA a piercing look and said, "Tell me why I should willingly put up with Gibbs on a rampage come Monday morning, if I was to approve this transfer."
"Permission to speak freely, Director? "Tony asked with absolute politeness. A nod from the older man granted him permission. "I hate that things have reached this point, but you're going to have to deal with him either way."
Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, he grabbed two envelopes, the contents of which had only taken a couple of minutes worth of work at his apartment that morning, given he had regularly updated the versions of both letters saved on his hard drive. "I've been working on both of these for a while, but it's finally time to hand them over to you. One is my transfer request, the other is my resignation. It's up to you as to which one you accept, but either way, I will be leaving the MCRT."
Vance reached across the table for the envelopes, then opened and read each one in turn. Most of the details were fairly similar. Tony had recounted an accurate recording of his hours worked over the last year, the amount of accrued leave he had lost since coming to NCIS due to not being able to take time off, Gibbs’ inability to delegate duties beyond most of his paperwork to his SFA, let alone enforce the junior agents respecting the rank, even the rising number of headslaps and the warning he'd received by his personal doctor over the repeated head traumas he'd received both from perps and Gibbs.
The director was a little taken aback to see all the details land out in black and white. He pulled out a toothpick and stuck the end in his mouth, more to give himself a moment to think about what he'd read rather than reaching for the cigarettes he'd long given up. Looking Tony directly in the eye, he responded, "I can't honestly argue any of the points you made there," gesturing to the letters before him. "But what's set this transfer request off now versus all the times this has gone on in the past?"
"I know you're not my biggest fan,sir. And I'm willing to admit that there's times I misjudge some moments of levity, much as they often break the tension that comes with being on Team Gibbs. But when all is said and done, I'm a highly trained detective with a lot of years of experience, and too often I'm sidelined or not taken seriously when deductive reasoning comes into play. You may not agree, but as useful as computers and technology are, they can't replicate old fashioned legwork. The Renny Grant case taught us that, all too well.”
Vance winced a little. Though before his time as director, that case remained a cautionary tale and was even taught at FLETC. He waved Tony to continue on, knowing the younger agent still hadn't revealed what had finally sent him over the edge. In the space of a few minutes, Tony laid out the revelation about Gibbs' suggestion that he needed an attitude adjustment for Christmas and the likelihood his words would be all over the building come Monday morning, thanks to the pair of inveterate gossips.
"Divector, I've allowed my position, my experience and my seniority to be pushed away as unimportant for the last time. I've just finally reached the point where I'm done and ready to see if Fornell and Tom Morrow were for real with those job offers. It's time for me to remove the class clown and whipping boy masks, and ask to be granted the respect I've earned." Tony sat back in his chair, slumped in relief that he was done, and took a sip of his now cooling coffee.
Vance considered his choices. For all that DiNozzo had annoying traits, he couldn't argue the experience or abilities. Decision made, he leaned in and said, "Your transfer is approved, Agent DiNozzo, and I will take on the joyous,” at this his face twisted in sarcasm, "job of notifying Gibbs on Monday morning. I know you don't have any active cases pending, so as long as we can ensure you're available for any court dates, I don't see any need for a full-on handover period to the MCRT's new SFA, whoever that might be. I'm going to need to bring in a TDA anyway, so as of now, you're the official senior field agent to the DC Contingency Response team or CRT, under Agent Balboa. Although I might suggest getting your desk transferred over and squared away this weekend, to limit the confrontations a little. And if you're not dispatched or a case by 8 AM Monday, I'll get you booked into a training session at Quantico. A couple of hours spent on Hogan's Alley won't be wasted, as you bring your new team together, Rick, and it'll keep you away from the worst of Gibbs’ tirades... hopefully.”
Rick couldn't help but chuckle over a couple of things Vance had said, even if it was ostensibly over his last comment primarily. Most people at NCIS had long forgotten his team's title. It was meant to convey they were a cross-trained team that could handle critical cases, both there in DC or across the country or globe, when a crisis broke out. Most of the time, they acted as a second MCRT team, but the potential was always there to be sent out of the region. Case in point, his team (he'd still been the SFA at the time) had been deployed to New York in the days after September 11th, to offer whatever assistance they could to the investigative efforts, but to also act as additional support to the families of missing or injured active duty, reserve and retired Marines and Navy personnel caught up in the destruction of the twin Towers. Searching the rubble in the Pile, as it came to be known, still haunted his dreams some nights.
~~~●●●~~~
Glad to be over that hurdle in his quest to become his best friend's SFA, Tony dragged Rick with him to the office and took Vance's advice to switch his desk over to the neighbouring bull pen. Rick had called Janet on the ride over to the Navy Yard, announcing she was free to take the CT/CI job as of the first of the year, just a week away. Having put the phone on speaker for the call, both he and Tony chuckled over the voice of Janet's husband in the distance shouting "Let's go practice making a baby, Hon". It appeared nobody in the Martinowski family was opposed to her move from the field.
Taking the expedient approach, seeing that the empty desk and Janet's own were identical, the two then secured anything lying loose on her desk top, unplugged everything electronic and then simply switched out both desks. In thirty minutes, they were done with that and had transferred every personal item from his MCRT desk over to his new team's work area. He left Gibbs' medals in the bottom drawer, but pointedly laid the keys on Gibbs' desk, along with a copy of his transfer request to Vance, this one bearing the added note, 'Permission granted 'accompanied by the director's signature. A text from Vance, confirming their booking for Hogan's Alley, pending no new case of course, capped off the move. All that was left to do was for Rick to notify his probie and junior agent about the change in team personnel. That was easily accomplished on the ride back to the Balboa home, and by early afternoon, the two agents had a day and a half before them to relax with the family before all hell might break loose Monday morning.
And break loose it did! Balboa's team did not get a call out from dispatch, so by 9 AM, they were comfortably (and happily) out of contact running training scenarios at the FBI Academy down in Quantico. That was about the same time that Gibbs decided the transfer letter and keys he'd found on his desk, not to mention the empty desk across the aisle from him, meant that this wasn't just some bizarre prank Tony had cooked up, just because he could. Storming towards the stairs up to Vance's office, the MCRT team leader commanded, "McGee, do that thing where you ping DiNozzo's phone so you can find him and when you do, call him and tell him he needs to be here in the office in fifteen minutes or he'll know what it feels like to be extracting my size elevens from his ass!" With that pronouncement, Gibbs took the stairs two at a time and then they heard the slam of a door and muffled yelling from the director's office.
McGee, as he hurried to do his boss' bidding, exchanged confused looks with Ziva, before focussing on the computer screen before him.
“McGee, do you think that Tony perhaps is playing hooker?" Ziva asked, in a rather snide tone of voice, while also mangling the English language as usual.
"That's hookey, not hooker, Ziva. A hooker is a slang name for a prostitute," McGee responded, distractedly.
"This is Tony, so it could be said that either term could apply." Zina couldn't resist laying on the sarcasm. "And his desk is remarkably clean, more so than you would expect if he was simply playing a prank.”
Distracted by the information he'd just found on his screen, Tim absently replied, "Uh oh. Tony's phone says he's at Quantico, at the FBI Academy. If he's not only disappeared from NCIS, but has joined the Feebs, I'd rather cover myself in honey and strap myself down over a fire ant nest then have to be the one to tell Gibbs.”
The sound of an amused snicker startled both junior members of the MCRT, acting to reinforce DiNozzo’s assessment that neither agent was ready for promotion as he had explained two days before. Not that Ziva David was eligible to do so, given she held only a liaison position. Turning towards the space between their two desks, both Tim and Ziva were surprised by the director's presence.
"Don't let yourself become too worried about any of this, McGee," Vance instructed, Agent DiNozzo is undertaking some training with his new team, at my behest, to ensure they're field ready as soon as possible." The director held back a smile at seeing two jaws drop at the news. "Nor do you need to worry about conveying the news to Agent Gibbs. I've already taken care of those details. Gibbs will be taking a few days of leave, and so for now, I'm directing you both to work on cold case files."
All that was missing was the mike drop at the end of that statement, as the director strode back towards the stairs to his office. He'd been forced to put Gibbs on administrative suspension for three days, over the temper tantrum the older man had thrown in his office not too long before. As he climbed the stairs, Leon Vance pondered, not for the first time, if there was an anger management programme anywhere on this entire planet that was capable of teaching Gibbs better ways to manage the challenges of the job and his emotions. 'Sadly, not likely' was his thought as he rounded the corner and went towards his desk. 'But the person who managed to do so should surely be eligible for a Nobel Peace prize.’ Waving away that fantasy, he picked up his phone to let SECNAV know about the recent changes, knowing Gibbs would have no compunction about going over his head to Vance's boss, just to get his own way.
~~~●●●~~~
By the time Balboa and his team returned to DC , it was early afternoon and Rick took everyone out to lunch at a nearby bistro, to continue the team bonding. As they were entering the restaurant, Tony's cell phone rang and the caller ID indicated that Jimmy Palmer was on the line. The Autopsy Gremlin and good friend was one of the few people he'd be willing to take calls from on this day, as he knew Jimmy would be worried about what was going on with his friend and not just calling to get a scoop on the gossip that was surely being shared at high speed throughout NCIS headquarters and beyond. He'd already declined calls from some of the worst muckrakers, not willing to feed the rumour mill any further.
As Tony stepped back from the door to take Jimmy's call, the rest of the team were being seated by the hostess. Having been given menus to peruse, Janet asked the critical question. “Just how ugly is it going to get, dealing with Gibbs and the rest of the MCRT for the next few weeks. Now I think about it, probably Abby too, though I suspect Ducky and Palmer will go on, business as usual."
Dave and probie agent Josh leaned in, interested in hearing just how crazy things might get in the weeks ahead. Rick gave a waggle of his hand indicating things could go either way in the near future."It's a bit hard to guess, but if I was a betting man, we'll primarily be running interference between Tony, the MCRT junior agents and Sciuto, so they can't force a guilt trip on him for leaving the team, and probably dispel any misplaced anger they shovel into his lap when they realise what it's really like being on a team with Gibbs, without Tony there to deflect and redirect his anger when something is not to his liking and he lashes out. Not to mention them trying to push Tony to help with their cases, once they realise just how much they've relied on these out-of-the-box leaps of deductive reasoning, which is a huge part of how high the MCRT's solve rate is.”
Josh, who knew very little about Tony and his uncanny ability, asked, "He's really that good? I mean I've heard stuff, but haven't had the chance to see our new senior field agent in action personally.”
Rick replied,"Oh, he's better than any scuttlebutt you might have heard. It's not unusual for Tony and I to end up back at the office late at night, to get our desks cleared while there's peace and quiet. More often than not, when he's taken a look at a case file for me, he's come up with a good lead to progress things further, or even identified a suspect we hadn't thought to consider. He's been remarkably spot on with his suggestions." Rick quieted down then, as he saw Tony enter the bistro and make his way over to the table, leaving Probie Josh to ponder what he'd just learned, and begin to halfway salivate at the thought of training under the newest member of the team.
Tony smiled as he sat down, knowing they'd probably been talking about him but not minding the curiosity of his new teammates, knowing Rich wouldn't have allowed things to get out of hand. "Jimmy says hi and that the bullpen is a madhouse and best avoided. He said it's like watching a train wreck up there, filled with looky-lous and people just coming by to pick up any scuttlebutt they can get their hands on. He suggested coming in through the evidence garage to avoid the circus. Ducky has offered to let us use autopsy to hide out, given they have no guests at the moment. Oh, and apparently he had to sedate Abby after she lost her mind and publicly accused you, Rick, of being a destroyer of families and me of being a traitor. Vance has sent her home with someone from his security detail and has banned her from returning to work until cleared by psych services."
"Oh yay, that sounds all lovely and delightful, doesn't it?" Rick responded sarcastically. “Wonder if we can talk Vance into doing the same with the ‘second B'?”
"Well, he might make that order, but he'd probably need a couple of Navy SEAL teams holding the man at gunpoint to make sure it was enforced,” replied Tony with a manner that suggested he was barely holding back a laugh. Meanwhile, Dave and Josh could only stare at the pair of friends and how laid back they seemed to be, faced as they would be with Hurricane Gibbs at some time in the not too distant future. Janet just snorted in amusement and made a mental note to stock up on popcorn, whilst also wondering if the cataclysm would occur before the end of Friday's shift, when she would be moving to her new desk one floor down. She hated the thought that she might end up missing the chance to witness Rick and Tony tag-teaming Gibbs. It would be a face off for the ages.
A little to Janet's dismay, the anticipated confrontation had become much less of a bang and more of a fizz, not that Rick and Tony minded all that much. Gibbs had returned to work, after his cooling-off period, on Thursday morning, only to find the CRT had been called out to a case in Norfolk, Virginia. Denied the opportunity to go toe-to-toe with his fellow team lead and former SFA (all while refusing to accept the latter as fact), Gibbs had raged up the stairs to Vance's office and gone ballistic for another thirty solid minutes. The only thing that had stopped it all from going on longer was the arrival of SECNAV Phillip Davenport, who'd showed up for a scheduled appointment with the director.
After listening in on the loudly conducted rampage for several minutes, from the waiting area beside Pamela, Vance's TA's desk (to her great embarrassment), Davenport had barged through the door, issuing the curt order, "Stand down Agent Gibbs!” He then had remanded him to Bethesda for a psych eval for his out-of-control behaviour. To make his point, SECNAV had a couple of members from his Marine security detail provide an enforced escort to the hospital. It was the sight of fellow Marines, looking at him with total disdain, that chastened Gibbs more than anything. He submitted to the seventy-two hour hold (Davenport had reported that Gibbs was a serious danger to other NCIS agents as cause for the forced admission), then did the bare minimum to comply thereafter.
But it saw Gibbs released before the weekend was over, and despite having further mandated counselling (at which he did the bare minimum of work, again), it allowed the MCRT lead to return to work on Monday morning. From there on out, he did everything possible to ignore the CRT, Rick and Tony in particular, and just got back on with the job. Though many argued he was noticeably grouchier when the dust settled, while others insisted they couldn't tell any difference at all. Of the rest of the MCRT and its auxiliary members, Ducky and Jimmy wished Tony all the best with his new team, while expressing how happy they were that they'd still be able to work with the SFA on a regular basis.
Abby had been difficult initially, alternating between thumping Tony on the shoulder and giving him the cold shoulder when their paths crossed over cases. But Tony remained implacably stolid in the face of her passive-aggressive tactics and within three months, amicable relations were restored. Ziva and McGee's responses to the loss of the SFA from their team tended towards Ziva accusing Tony of not being able to cut it on the top NCIS team, whilst McGee didn't quite know what to say, Part of him rejoiced that Tony was no longer a block in his path to promotion, but when he was being honest with himself, Tim also acknowledged he had learned a lot from the more senior agent. Unable to reconcile those opposing views, he mostly just ignored Tony unless forced to address something case related.
Vance had a TDA posted to the MCRT’s senior field agent position before Gibbs ever came back from his short medical leave. Within six months, Gibbs had run off five TDAs before he received an ultimatum from Vance; the next TDA would become a permanently assigned agent to the MCRT or Gibbs would be the one looking for another position. Thanks to SECNAV having witnessed Gibbs' temper tantrum first-hand, months before, Gibbs' knowledge of where the bodies were buried, and his ability to go over Vance's head to get his own way, had been severely curtailed.
The newest SFA candidate was a retired Navy SEAL, who'd moved to a training role after sustaining too many severe concussions to be permitted to remain as an active member of his team. After completing twenty years of service, Leo had moved over to NCIS, working out of the field office in San Diego for the last seven years. He'd held an SFA position there for nearly three years before transferring to DC to be closer to both his and his wife's ageing parents. He was no-nonsense with the junior MCRT agents and more than happy to go toe-to-toe when needed with Gibbs. Within six weeks of Bartlett's transfer, sparring sessions in the gym between the two most senior agents were usually drawing sellout crowds (Vance had a standing reservation of a front and centre spot on the bleachers). At that point, retired Master Chief Petty Officer Bartlett had the edge in those bouts, with three more wins than Gibbs, to the latter's great disgust. But at least the MCRT was fully staffed once more; and life within NCIS headquarters had returned to what passed for normal.