17. ferneberga Vance decides Gibbs can't be lead agent in the field anymore because he failed his annual firearms assessment because he refused to wear specs/contact lenses for the test and Tony is to take over as lead until he requalifies. Develop as you feel please.
“Why didn’t you wear the glasses?” Tony asked, exasperated.
“Farsighted now,” Gibbs muttered. The reason he’d failed his firearms test had nothing to do with his glasses and everything to do with the fact that his eyes were still healing from the bombing. He’d had some small shards of glass in his eyes—nothing like Abby and McGee, who’d had multiple surgeries. Gibbs had only needed one, and while his eyes were healing, he wouldn’t be a hundred percent for another six weeks or so.
Vance knew and understood, but rules were rules, and they weren’t gonna be bent for Gibbs.
So Gibbs wasn’t field cleared, he’d be riding a desk for a few weeks, until the fuzzy haloes disappeared and his distance sight was sharp again.
Tony took a long gulp of his Dominion Ale and stared on the window. Gibbs didn’t need to say anything else— he knew thatTony knew and understood. And realized why Vance couldn’t break the rules, not even for the legendary Gibbs. As someone had called him in the wake of the bombing.
Hell, if he’d been the legend some people claimed, people wouldn’t have left NCIS in body bags. Gibbs shuddered, the memory of the bags lined up, his friends, some burned and crushed almost beyond recognition.
The smells…
“Hey, come back to me.”
DiNozzo had escaped it, had been in an elevator with Ziva. By the time they’d gotten them out two hours later, McGee and Abbs had been sent to Bethesda, Fornell had been in charge of the investigation and Gibbs…
He gulped hard, staring out the window, at the damn streetlights haloing. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be back in the field. Maybe…
“I’m back,” he told DiNozzo. “And you’re gonna lead this time just fine for now. When I’m back on my feet—”
“No retiring,” Tony put in, cutting Gibbs off.
“No retiring,” he promised. “When I requalify—and I’m gonna—I’m taking our team back. Until then, you’ll do. You’ll more than do.” Gibbs squeezed the back of Tony’s neck, sighing happily as his lover rested against him.
“There are worse things than desk work when I have you to come home to.”
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Our Team
Date: 2012-08-25 04:05 am (UTC)17. ferneberga Vance decides Gibbs can't be lead agent in the field anymore because he failed his annual firearms assessment because he refused to wear specs/contact lenses for the test and Tony is to take over as lead until he requalifies. Develop as you feel please.
“Why didn’t you wear the glasses?” Tony asked, exasperated.
“Farsighted now,” Gibbs muttered. The reason he’d failed his firearms test had nothing to do with his glasses and everything to do with the fact that his eyes were still healing from the bombing. He’d had some small shards of glass in his eyes—nothing like Abby and McGee, who’d had multiple surgeries. Gibbs had only needed one, and while his eyes were healing, he wouldn’t be a hundred percent for another six weeks or so.
Vance knew and understood, but rules were rules, and they weren’t gonna be bent for Gibbs.
So Gibbs wasn’t field cleared, he’d be riding a desk for a few weeks, until the fuzzy haloes disappeared and his distance sight was sharp again.
Tony took a long gulp of his Dominion Ale and stared on the window. Gibbs didn’t need to say anything else— he knew thatTony knew and understood. And realized why Vance couldn’t break the rules, not even for the legendary Gibbs. As someone had called him in the wake of the bombing.
Hell, if he’d been the legend some people claimed, people wouldn’t have left NCIS in body bags. Gibbs shuddered, the memory of the bags lined up, his friends, some burned and crushed almost beyond recognition.
The smells…
“Hey, come back to me.”
DiNozzo had escaped it, had been in an elevator with Ziva. By the time they’d gotten them out two hours later, McGee and Abbs had been sent to Bethesda, Fornell had been in charge of the investigation and Gibbs…
He gulped hard, staring out the window, at the damn streetlights haloing. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be back in the field. Maybe…
“I’m back,” he told DiNozzo. “And you’re gonna lead this time just fine for now. When I’m back on my feet—”
“No retiring,” Tony put in, cutting Gibbs off.
“No retiring,” he promised. “When I requalify—and I’m gonna—I’m taking our team back. Until then, you’ll do. You’ll more than do.” Gibbs squeezed the back of Tony’s neck, sighing happily as his lover rested against him.
“There are worse things than desk work when I have you to come home to.”
And truer words were never spoken.