Hilde commissioned a fic where Gibbs and Tony were in a relationship and one leaves.No partner betrayal. This is the first chapter of a WIP, unbeated, unedited.
Chapter One
Gibbs winced as the glass shattered—the third tonight—and looked away. He couldn’t meet Tony’s eyes right now, didn’t even want to.
“Why? Why can’t you let me in? Why can’t you fight for me?” Tony raged, hurling another glass at the mantel. He’d been at this for twenty minutes now and Gibbs couldn’t give him the reaction DiNozzo wanted. No matter how much was on the line.
“Let you in,” he said mildly, blood dripping into his eyes from a deep gash in his forehead. That had been courtesy of the fifth—or maybe sixth—glass. A chunk had cut deeply into him but Gibbs hadn’t wiped up the blood, had just let it flow, itchy and burning, down his face.
He wanted to help DiNozzo out, but he couldn’t. Hell, he’d tried, though he couldn’t let Tony know that. The call to SecNav, made with numb fingers, but SecNav had made his mind up. After the situation in Somalia and Tony’s part in it, he was being promoted, made team leader and being based out of the Pentagon. It was close, but it wasn’t Gibbs’ team. Everything was changing and none of them were ready for this.
Tony didn’t want to go. He liked working with the team, saw it as a rejection even though it wasn’t. Gibbs couldn’t exactly come clean to SecNav and explain why he needed DiNozzo on his six, though he’d begged—he’d actually begged—stating that Tony was the only one who could and should inherit the Major Case Response Team, that Tony had paid his dues many times over.
“It won’t be too different,” Gibbs ventured, wiping at the blood. But he knew it would. When they weren’t working side by side, something huge and major would be lost. And Gibbs wasn’t entirely sure if they could get it back when it was gone.
“It’s over. You’re gonna have some probie on your team with big bright eyes and a smile and he’ll steal your heart.”
“DiNozzo!”
“What?”
“You think that little of me?” He’d done it now he’d provoked Gibbs.
“Chris Pacci,” Tony said, his voice brittle. “Brent Langer, Jenny Shepard, G Callen, Stan Burley, and me. You’ve been with every new probie you’ve taken on.”
“Not true. What about Keating, Lee, McGee, Blackadder, Kate, Ziva, Cassie Yates.”
“Cass doesn’t count! She was only your probie for a month.”
Gibbs could feel that Tony was starting to waver and closed the gap between them.
“Don’t!” Tony said, backing off. “Don’t give me assurances that you can’t keep. I know you.”
“What do you know?” Gibbs asked, his voice dropping in register.
“I know how you are. You need to scratch an itch.”
“Is that all you think this is?” Gibbs asked, shocked. He and Tony had been together for over a year now, and it was good—damned good. Where was all of this coming from? He pulled in a breath, willing himself to calm down and actually talk with Tony, no matter how uncomfortable that made him.
“Wonder sometimes,” Tony muttered. The fight had gone out of him and he sat down at the table.
“Don’t,” Gibbs shot back. “You moved in.”
“So did three readheads.”
This wasn’t Tony—not the Tony he knew. And that worried and bothered Gibbs more than he could put into words. He had to find a way to make this better, to get them back on solid ground.
“You done breaking my glasses? Want to move on to the coffee mugs?” Gibbs asked, trying to make a joke. Tony only looked at the mess blankly, blinking and shaking his head. His shoulders slumped, the fight clearly gone right out of him. Gibbs stood, patting Tony on the shoulder. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing the dustpan and broom and easing them into Tony’s hands.
“You make the mess, you clean up.”
Tony blinked a few times and Gibbs had the distinct sense that this was only the calm before the storm.
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Hurt
Date: 2012-01-08 05:22 pm (UTC)Hilde commissioned a fic where Gibbs and Tony were in a relationship and one leaves.No partner betrayal. This is the first chapter of a WIP, unbeated, unedited.
Chapter One
Gibbs winced as the glass shattered—the third tonight—and looked away. He couldn’t meet Tony’s eyes right now, didn’t even want to.
“Why? Why can’t you let me in? Why can’t you fight for me?” Tony raged, hurling another glass at the mantel. He’d been at this for twenty minutes now and Gibbs couldn’t give him the reaction DiNozzo wanted. No matter how much was on the line.
“Let you in,” he said mildly, blood dripping into his eyes from a deep gash in his forehead. That had been courtesy of the fifth—or maybe sixth—glass. A chunk had cut deeply into him but Gibbs hadn’t wiped up the blood, had just let it flow, itchy and burning, down his face.
He wanted to help DiNozzo out, but he couldn’t. Hell, he’d tried, though he couldn’t let Tony know that. The call to SecNav, made with numb fingers, but SecNav had made his mind up. After the situation in Somalia and Tony’s part in it, he was being promoted, made team leader and being based out of the Pentagon. It was close, but it wasn’t Gibbs’ team. Everything was changing and none of them were ready for this.
Tony didn’t want to go. He liked working with the team, saw it as a rejection even though it wasn’t. Gibbs couldn’t exactly come clean to SecNav and explain why he needed DiNozzo on his six, though he’d begged—he’d actually begged—stating that Tony was the only one who could and should inherit the Major Case Response Team, that Tony had paid his dues many times over.
“It won’t be too different,” Gibbs ventured, wiping at the blood. But he knew it would. When they weren’t working side by side, something huge and major would be lost. And Gibbs wasn’t entirely sure if they could get it back when it was gone.
“It’s over. You’re gonna have some probie on your team with big bright eyes and a smile and he’ll steal your heart.”
“DiNozzo!”
“What?”
“You think that little of me?” He’d done it now he’d provoked Gibbs.
“Chris Pacci,” Tony said, his voice brittle. “Brent Langer, Jenny Shepard, G Callen, Stan Burley, and me. You’ve been with every new probie you’ve taken on.”
“Not true. What about Keating, Lee, McGee, Blackadder, Kate, Ziva, Cassie Yates.”
“Cass doesn’t count! She was only your probie for a month.”
Gibbs could feel that Tony was starting to waver and closed the gap between them.
“Don’t!” Tony said, backing off. “Don’t give me assurances that you can’t keep. I know you.”
“What do you know?” Gibbs asked, his voice dropping in register.
“I know how you are. You need to scratch an itch.”
“Is that all you think this is?” Gibbs asked, shocked. He and Tony had been together for over a year now, and it was good—damned good. Where was all of this coming from? He pulled in a breath, willing himself to calm down and actually talk with Tony, no matter how uncomfortable that made him.
“Wonder sometimes,” Tony muttered. The fight had gone out of him and he sat down at the table.
“Don’t,” Gibbs shot back. “You moved in.”
“So did three readheads.”
This wasn’t Tony—not the Tony he knew. And that worried and bothered Gibbs more than he could put into words. He had to find a way to make this better, to get them back on solid ground.
“You done breaking my glasses? Want to move on to the coffee mugs?” Gibbs asked, trying to make a joke. Tony only looked at the mess blankly, blinking and shaking his head. His shoulders slumped, the fight clearly gone right out of him. Gibbs stood, patting Tony on the shoulder. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing the dustpan and broom and easing them into Tony’s hands.
“You make the mess, you clean up.”
Tony blinked a few times and Gibbs had the distinct sense that this was only the calm before the storm.