Chapter Text
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Chapter 1
Leon Vance watched as Officer Ziva David walked quickly out of the courtyard without looking back once. Vance’s attention went to Senior Field Agent Anthony DiNozzo, wobbly and certainly in pain getting up from the tumble he took from Ziva’s actions. Leon had been surprised when he’d reached the entrance to the courtyard and seen the Mossad liaison advancing on the banged-up NCIS agent. Vance certainly didn’t expect the direct attack, and DiNozzo seemed surprised but also accepting of the action, like he knew Ziva would do something at some point.
The whole situation was clusterfuck, reaching FUBAR levels. Vance was angry with DiNozzo for meddling and ending up killing the Kidon agent, even if the guy was gallivanting around the United States doing whatever Mossad wanted behind the American government’s back. Leon Vance knew that the Israeli’s actions were not kosher, but he also believed the man was doing them all a favour, eliminating dangerous people that the American system would not allow them to touch. The death of the Homeland agent was a pity, but nothing they could do about it after the fact. Leon was grateful to Eli David for all the help he got at the beginning of his career and saw nothing wrong with a bit of quid-pro-quo that also helped America.
Giving DiNozzo on a plate to David wasn’t a problem in his mind. The guy would get a deserved thumping, Mossad would feel better about the whole thing, and Vance would have a good excuse to put the annoying man far away from the MCRT and DC without Gibbs whingeing in his ear about needing his SFA. Gibbs would certainly be too busy consoling Ziva David to worry about Tony DiNozzo.
But again, the aggravating agent had to turn everything on its head. ‘How does he do it?’ Vance couldn’t understand how a frat boy, barely competent ex-cop was able to turn the table on Mossad Director Eli David and make the man confess all his plans in relation to NCIS.
Vance was surprised that the whole thing with Haswari was pretty much planned from the start and Ziva was all in. ‘That should have hurt Gibbs’, Leon thought with some schadenfreude. The big bad Marine agent was played by a slip of woman. Leon remembered the scene during the interrogation and the look on DiNozzo’s face. ‘The man knew!’ The glint in his eyes at Eli’s confirmation was clear. Then the SFA had kept pushing and Director David had played right along, saying the whole Rivkin affair was to make sure that Ziva was still under her father’s control. Ziva’s reaction to that little bit of commentary had been telling, too.
Leon sighed and moved towards the driveway at the entrance of the Mossad office building. That was where Ziva had walked to, and Gibbs was probably there waiting for all of them to pick up their ride and go back to the airport for the military flight waiting to take them back to DC. While walking at a clip to reach his MCRT team leader and the Mossad liaison, Leon saw someone approach DiNozzo and help the agent get steady on his feet. The Director considered for a moment if he should talk with the SFA but in the grand scheme of things DiNozzo was quite far down his list of priorities.
“…cannot work with him, Gibbs!” Ziva’s voice reached Vance before he even saw the other two agents.
“Ziver, we’ll…” By the quiet tone of voice, the man was trying to appease the young woman.
“No! You have to choose! I will not be in the same team as him anymore!” Ziva actually stomped her foot to accompany the declaration, mirroring the behaviour of Abby Sciuto to a T.
Gibbs’ face closed off and Vance sped up to avoid the storm forming on the Marine’s visage. He knew that it was never good to give that old grouch an ultimatum. Leon had learned that one the hard way.
“Gibbs, Ziva,” the Director interrupted whatever the senior agent might have thought of responding. “Let’s get in the car. DiNozzo should come along soon, and we’d better be on the tarmac soon, so we won’t lose our ride.”
Ziva turned to the other man, her angry expression twisting her face enough to disguise she could ever be an attractive woman.
“I will not work with DiNozzo ever again, Director!” she stated, avoiding the stomping this time thankfully, so Vance didn’t need to be reminded of Sciuto or his own teenage daughter.
“I understand and agree, Officer David,” Leon responded, trying to re-assert his position. “I’m considering the options, and I’ll have a solution soon, but I do prefer to discuss NCIS business back in DC”.
“Leon,” Gibbs started with a warning in his tone.
“Gibbs,” Vance sighed loudly. “We are all tired and stressed out. Let’s go back home, take a few days to decompress and discuss how to go forward with clear heads.”
“You could just throw him in the desert right here,” Ziva spewed full of venom.
“Ziva!” Gibbs reprimanded.
“As tempting as the idea is, Officer David, I have to report back to SecNav, and losing another American agent so carelessly would not go down well, after all that happened,” Vance retorted acidly.
Ziva humpfed, turned her back to the two men and marched towards the car, going for the back seat. The Marine holding the door open avoided looking at her at all, keeping his eyes front and centre, a tight hold on the door handle. Ziva slid over the back seat and turned her back to the open door, eyes on the window, ignoring everyone else around the car.
“That’s not gonna go down well, Leon,” Gibbs said quietly, eyes on the open car door. “You’ve already thrown him to the wolves by bringing him here.”
“I have a possible solution, Gibbs,” Vance stated, starting to move towards the car. “Like I said, we need some days to rest and then we sort everything out.”
Gibbs started walking behind the director, a heavier step than he normally used. “I don’t like ultimatums… In the end, DiNozzo acquitted himself very well.”
“I know,” Leon agreed without turning to the surprise of the agent. “But there’s more to consider in this situation, more even than when we came here.”
“You thought you would get rid of DiNozzo,” Gibbs threw the comment out.
“It doesn’t matter what I thought before,” Vance declared, moving to enter the car through the door the Marine was still holding open. “I have to consider what to do going forward.”
Gibbs nodded, a bit lost in his own thoughts and followed the Director into the car. The Marine closed the back door and moved to open the passenger side of the car when he saw Agent DiNozzo hobbling towards them, followed by a Mossad agent a few steps behind him.
The SFA entered the car carefully, holding back a few moans and trying to find a comfortable position. The Marine hurried to get to the driver’s seat and nodded quietly to the Mossad agent watching the group depart; he let out a soft sigh, shoulders hunching under the tension that filled the car. He just wanted to get to the plane and be sure to sit far away from this bunch.
The flight back to DC was as uncomfortable as the one to Israel. Ziva would swing between sadness and anger, letting Gibbs hold her when sadness was at its peak, and turning a hateful gaze towards DiNozzo whenever her anger swelled up. Vance sat quietly, eyes closed but mind running wild with options and possibilities to deal with the whole situation. Gibbs was also see-sawing between trying to console a grieving Ziva and wrestling with his anger and disbelief about what Eli David said during DiNozzo’s interrogation and Ziva’s ultimatum. DiNozzo sat as far away from the rest of the NCIS group as the airplane allowed. He couldn’t sleep or relax, his collarbone hurting like hell, his back and leg pulsing with pain after Ziva swiped him to the floor. He was grimly happy at being able to get Eli David’s admission of all his meddling but acutely aware that it might not help his overall position in the end. And the advice he received from Amit Hadar kept rolling around his head.
“You should accept any move your director offers you, Agent. You would not be safe around Ziva David,” the man had whispered in his ear while helping him back onto his feet.
The tension didn’t leave the group that landed in DC in the early morning, with barely any sun showing up to welcome them. Ziva kept close to Gibbs, DiNozzo again as far away as possible while still being able to hear Vance’s orders.
“Everybody takes the rest of the week to rest. We’ll talk Monday,” Vance stated. “DiNozzo, I’ll see you around 8am, in my office.”
Tony nodded and turned to leave, walking slowly and with a visible limp.
“Gibbs, your whole team is on leave until Monday. I’ll let Balboa and Dispatch know,” Vance turned to the older agent, ignoring the sour face of the man. He knew Gibbs didn’t like it when he ordered the MCRT around but now was not the time for a dick measuring contest. “Officer David, I understand that you lost your apartment…”
“Ziva will stay with me until everything is sorted,” Gibbs declared loudly, cutting the rest of the comment from the director.
Vance raised an eyebrow on the decision and saw the retreating back of DiNozzo hunching even more. That was a clear declaration of which side Gibbs was taking and the satisfied smile on Ziva’s face showed she recognized it too.
“Very well,” Leon agreed, the decision he was mulling over for the MCRT cementing under the lead agent attitude. “I’ll see you Monday morning, after I talk with DiNozzo then,” he completed, nodding towards the duo and turning to leave, his NCIS issued car and driver waiting for him close by.
While they drove carefully out of the military runaway, Vance saw DiNozzo huddled in a corner of the reception building, his mobile in hand, probably trying to sort out transport back home. The driver slowed even more, like waiting for Vance to say something, but when they crossed the gate without the director ordering him to stop or suggesting they offer the SFA a lift, the man in front sighed loudly and sped up to enter normal traffic.
Vance felt moderately ashamed for not offering to take DiNozzo home, especially after seeing Gibbs’s car zooming past with a smarmy, satisfied Ziva in the passenger seat. But Leon believed DiNozzo would refuse any help he might offer, just on principle. It was the director's turn to sigh and lay back in the comfortable seat. He would go home, take a bath, eat something and maybe take a nap. Then he would make sure his option to sort out the MCRT was still viable. Vance closed his eyes and let go of the worries for a moment, while he was driven home.
*WADC*
The conversation Monday morning with DiNozzo went better than Vance expected. He thought the SFA would whinge about being moved out of the MCRT considering his attitude during his stint as agent afloat and the gloating he seemed to do when Vance acceded to Gibbs and brought the man back to DC.
The DiNozzo seated in front of the director’s desk was quieter and seemed more mature than Leon had ever seen before from the SFA. No quips, jokes or even sarcastic comments. Tony DiNozzo listened quietly to his offer to lead a mobile RU. It was related to a mixed military programme spearheaded by the Air Force but with plenty of Marines working protecting civilian scientists that seemed to move around the country a lot. The position, despite the title that would give DiNozzo, could accurately be defined as an agent afloat service, just on shore, in Vance’s view, and it was a request from NCIS’s previous director, Tom Morrow, who was now Assistant Director of Special Projects at Homeland Security.
When Vance had received the request just before the whole Rivkin affair exploded, he was unsure if he would offer any agent the position. It looked like a no prospects kind of job and the only agent he wished such a thing on was DiNozzo, but Gibbs seemed set in his way to keep the young man on his team. Then Rivkin happened, Ziva went ballistic with the death of her lover and Eli David asked for DiNozzo’s head on a plate. Vance thought he would get rid of the annoying man then and there and had completely forgotten Morrow’s request until the doomed interrogation at Mossad office. He knew Eli had plans within plans and wasn’t too picky about them as long as they didn’t affect his life, job or country. What DiNozzo made Eli confess to, though, gave Vance some leeway and some leverage, especially over Gibbs. Morrow’s request came back to him while he watched Ziva drop DiNozzo and clearly threaten him at the courtyard of Mossad Office.
“I need someone flexible, who can deal with military and civilian alike, Leon,” Morrow had said on the phone, what seemed so long ago. “Someone like DiNozzo, with his out of the box thinking would be perfect, really. I know Gunny won’t let his star investigator go, though.”
Vance had humpfed then, never understanding what people saw in DiNozzo, but now, after the impressive turnabout during Eli’s interrogation, maybe there was something about the man after all. If he gave DiNozzo the position in Morrow’s project, Leon would have two people in debt to him, since DiNozzo would not want to stay around Ziva after that, and Gibbs was clearly in papa bear mode with the Israeli woman. It looked like everything would work out in the end and Vance was glad to envision his problems dissolving away.
Now he was getting up from his chair and motioning to DiNozzo to follow him back down to the bullpen. The agent had accepted the move with a quick nod and quiet “Yes, Director,” to Vance's question if he was interested in the position. The two men moved out of the office, with DiNozzo giving Cynthia, his secretary, a nod and a small smile that the woman answered back with a heartfelt “Good luck, Agent DiNozzo,” while giving him the folder with the details of the new position and his transfer.
Leon was keen to have the move resolved as quickly as possible, so he was taking DiNozzo down to the bullpen to pick up his stuff and go directly to HR to sign off the details of the new position. He had hoped Gibbs would be on one of his coffees runs and he could leave the whole announcement of the changes in the MCRT to a general email instead of having a confrontation with the Marine, but it seemed his luck had finally run out and the rest of the team was milling around their desks, together with Abby Sciuto and Doctor Mallard. Only the medical examiner’s assistant, Palmer, was missing from the normal Gibbs’ entourage. In fact, the bullpen was full, with Balboa and Peterson’s teams sitting at their desks, going through paperwork. Vance sighed quietly, not seeing a way out of the collision he was sure Gibbs would instigate.
DiNozzo went to his desk, sat down and started picking up stuff from his draws, working with only one arm, as his left one was still in a sling , thanks to the fight with Rivkin. The younger man still had colourful marks on his face and neck, and Leon winced internally thinking about the bruises that the man probably carried under his clothes. He hadn’t thought much about the agent’s injuries until this moment.
“DiNozzo!” Gibbs shouted, standing up from his desk. McGee raised his head from whatever he was doing on his computer and Ziva zeroed a deadly glace towards the SFA from her desk.
“Agent DiNozzo is being promoted to Senior Agent and taking over a new RU, Gibbs,” Vance cut in sharply, trying to avoid the inevitable discussion. He chose to say ‘promoted’ instead of ‘transferred’ to try to get points with DiNozzo and annoy the MCRT team lead at the same time.
“Promoted?!” Came the irritated question from Ziva that stood up, hands propped on her desk, trying to look menacing. “He should be dismissed! And arrested for the murder of Michael!” She exclaimed.
Gibbs moved to position himself in front of the Israeli.
“My dear Ziva,” Ducky intervened softly, approaching the woman. “Anthony defended himself against a very skilled opponent. If Officer Rivkin was not so down in his cups, we might be having a different conversation right now,” Ducky completed, trying to sooth the woman’s feelings but disregarding the wince from the seated agent.
The comment didn’t sit well with those around the MCRT bullpen and Balboa and Peterson approached the group, stopping at the entrance of the team area, close to Tony’s desk.
“And you just accepted that promotion without talking to me?” Gibbs advanced towards his SFA desk, being sure to keep in front of Ziva to impede her advancement.
“What was there to talk about, Gibbs?” Tony said quietly, not even stopping collecting his things and putting them in a box on top of the desk. “You were clear which side you’re taking, even if I was following your orders all along while trying to protect your chosen one.”
“You didn’t have to confront Rivkin!”
“You know damn well I went to talk to Ziva!” Tony finally exploded, throwing one last item into the box and getting up. “I didn’t expect her to be harbouring the Mossad spy that you told to leave the country twice, in her apartment!”
“You should not have gone to my apartment! It is nothing to do with you!”
“Oh, I agree, I didn’t care about anything to do with you, princess,” the sarcastic DiNozzo was back. “I tried to give you a chance to explain for Gibbs’s sake. I knew what you were from the beginning.”
The comment pushed the liaison’s buttons, and she moved around her desk, but Gibbs held her arm to stop her movement.
“What, one small problem and you run away?” Gibbs threw against his subordinate.
The scoffs and grim laughs filled the bullpen, making the group inside the MCRT bullpen take stock of the audience. McGee seemed to diminish, hiding behind his monitors. Ducky looked slightly ashamed, and Abby looked around in surprise. Ziva raised her head in a proud stance, pulling away from Gibbs’ hand, crossing her arms in front of her in a defiant pose. Gibbs glanced around but dismissed the onlookers, coming back to focus on the younger agent in front of him. Vance was surprised at the attitude of the other agents, not knowing what they might have seen or thought of the MCRT interaction.
“ONE SMALL problem?!” Tony pushed himself to his full height, straightened his back and looked the team leader straight in the eye. “I have been trying to discuss this with you for months. You keep brushing me off. You wouldn’t listen. I told you about the lack of support from McGee and Ziva. You knew she lied about Rivkin. You cut me out of that stupid cloak & dagger operation because you were pissed I followed Shepard’s orders!” DiNozzo was a bit out of breath. “I won’t keep repeating myself and my gripes. That ship has sailed”, he snorted at his own expression. “What’s the problem? Aren’t we all getting what we wanted? The Director is shipping me away from the limelight and now he can have the perfect MCRT he always dreamed about,” Tony motioned with his good hand towards the quiet Vance by the entrance of the bullpen. “McGee will be able to prove he’s better than me in every way as soon as he gets his desired SFA promotion,” another gesture to the younger man hiding behind his computer. “Miss Mossad over there gets to keep on spying away and you keep your chosen ones close by, and I don’t have to keep risking my life to keep everybody else happy!” DiNozzo finished, closing the box in front of him with precise movements fuelled by anger.
“Well, your life is cheap.”
The air seemed to woosh out of the area with Gibbs’ words. Tony was able to identify the reactions around him.
The short, happy laugh from Ziva, like she was feeling vindicated.
The snort, almost laugh from McGee, agreeing but trying not to gloat.
The sad “Gibbs!” exclamation from Abby. Not condemning but unhappy for the sentiment to be expressed out loud.
The sharp “Jethro!” from Ducky, this one more condemning, even if not for the reasons most people would expect. Even if the medical examiner understood the team leader’s irritation with the whole situation, and sometimes with the younger agent’s choices, Ducky couldn’t condone with the way Gibbs expressed himself. He would need to find time to have another conversation with his friend about his boorish way to address his concerns. The medical examiner would also have to consider how to discuss young Anthony’s behaviour without ruffling more feathers.
The loud silence from the Director at the entrance of the bullpen, observing the conversation.
The angry and sad breath intake from Balboa and Peterson, their faces showing how upset they were with what was going around.
Tony didn’t feel the comment like a punch in the chest, as he might have expected. It was more like the last threads of the connection he had with Gibbs and the team just fraying out and disappearing, like there was nothing else holding them together. The pain in his shoulder flared up, a reminder that his body was tensing up and it didn’t help his injury. He took a deep breath, let it go slowly and spoke calmly, much more calmly than he was feeling throughout this conversation.
“It really puts everything in perspective, huh?”
“It’s not what I meant,” Gibbs said angrily.
Tony shook his head. “You can’t go around all the time saying you only speak what you mean and then go back on your word now because the comment was more public than you wanted it to be. It’s clear that you don’t put much stock in me risking my life to save yours, or anyone else’s by the way. You think that since you don’t value it, then it doesn’t have the same weight as everybody else’s.”
“No!” Gibbs interrupted. “Just that it’s easier to risk your life than it is to choose which person to save.”
“Like I had to do when I jumped in the Potomac and had to choose who to pull out first, Maddie or you? Or when I had to stop looking for a little girl in a burning building otherwise her brother and I would die? You mean that kind of decision?”
Gibbs huffed and shifted in place uncharacteristically.
“Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter, Gibbs. You used to know better. Seems that not all your memories are back after all.”
“Don’t even…”
Tony interrupted, still calm but with steel in his voice. “Don’t even try to bring up the issues you have? Or the team, for that matter? Because you only discuss this kind of stuff in your ‘office’?”
Taking another deep breath, Tony continued: “Like I said, everybody gets what they want, and I won’t have to work anymore with someone that helped to Murder. My. Partner.” He glared at Ziva.
She growled and made to advance towards Tony; Gibbs blocked her again, while narrowing his eyes at Tony’s comments. McGee squawked in an offended way and Abby actually screamed “How could you, Tony!”.
“Simple, Abby, have you forgotten Kate so quickly?” Abby’s jaw flapped.
He ignored everyone else, keeping his eyes on Gibbs, his body half turned to protect his injured shoulder, and his awareness dialled up to the max so he could perceive anyone else approaching.
“I think this is enough…” Vance tried to stop the derailment of the conversation at this point.
Tony tried a one shoulder shrug but grimaced in pain. He picked up a black notebook from the top of his desk, raising it and turned to McGee.
“I was going to offer you my SFA black book…”
“I don’t need your overused pick-up lines, Tony,” McGee retorted.
“…but since I know you wouldn’t value it, I think Joshua should be the new keeper,” Tony completed without missing a beat.
Joshua Harris, Peterson’s SFA, came from the side bullpen, bypassing the other team leaders and the Director, ignoring Gibbs, Ziva and the tension in the room.
“Really, Tony? That would be amazing! Thanks for trusting me. I will do you proud.”
“Unless you want to move?”
“Nah, Troy is gold. I’m good as his SFA for a while. But I will put forth my probie for your consideration,” he joked as he picked up the black covered notebook from the top of the cardboard box on top of Tony’s desk.
“She was already there,” Tony gave a small smile. Ricky Balboa advanced and picked up the cardboard box. “I’ll walk down with you, Tony. I can put this in your car while you are at HR.”
“That is it?!” Ziva exclaimed and turned to Gibbs. “Will you let him get away with what he said about me? And he should be answering for Michael’s death, not walking out of here as nothing happened!”
Tony put a hand on Balboa’s arm to stop him from reacting and responding before Gibbs could say anything. “Which part of what I said was a lie? You are Mossad and a spy. You lied to us all about your involvement and knowledge of Rivkin’s activities. You were Ari’s handler, the one who did the profile of our team so he could kill Kate.” A quiet murmur of agreement went round the room. “Everything is true. You don’t like? Too bad, buttercup. Have to live with your choices.”
“DiNozzo!” The Director finally called out. “That’s enough.”
“Sure, Director, your problem now. I’m moving on, so, not my circus, not my monkeys anymore.” DiNozzo moved away from his desk and the MCRT bullpen, walking towards the stairwell door with Balboa still holding the cardboard box with Tony’s stuff.
“Sort out your papers, DiNozzo, and go talk to the Pentagon to sort out your access to the new RU,” Vance said, turning to go back to his office.
“DiNozzo,” Gibbs walked after the two men and tried to reach out for the younger agent’s arm, but Balboa intercepted the movement, allowing Tony to continue towards the stairs.
“I’m done, Gibbs. I’m tired of your rules only applying to others or when you’re in the mood.”
Tony reached the stairwell door, opened it and held it for Balboa to pass by before following. He could see Abby moving to talk to an angry Ziva and Ducky touching Gibbs’ arm to take his attention away from Tony.
As the door started closing behind him, DiNozzo heard Ziva’s parting shot in a venomous tone: “You will pay! You will pay for everything!”
Tony held the door open to answer: “I’ve been paying since the moment you set foot in the bullpen, princess. Maybe it’s time to reverse the charge.” He walked away, letting the door bang shut.
Balboa was waiting a few steps down. “You okay Tony?” He asked with a worried glance.
DiNozzo shook his head but uttered his trademark response of “I’m fine”. Pulling his car keys from a pocket and passing it on to his friend he asked: “Could you take the box to my car, please? I’ll go sort things up at HR.”
“Where are you going, Tony? I didn’t know there’s an opening in any RU,” Martin Balboa asked while grabbing the offered key. “Maya is a good probie and I’d hate for NCIS to lose her. But maybe it’s better if she moves on before she gets too disillusioned, especially with other agents,” he completed with a twist of his mouth.
“Ah, you’ll always hold the line, Martin. It’s a new RU, connected to some secret programme mixing military and civilian but under the auspices of Homeland,” Tony explained. “Not even Vance knew all the details. Looks like I’ll have to wait and see which rabbit hole I’m getting into. Delores Bromstead is doing the transfer. Another one that will be happy to see me go. Maya’s still doing well with Peterson and it’s a good team. They rarely interact with Gibbs, so she should be okay.”
“I really don’t know what happened to him. He wasn’t such a bear all the time.”
“A bomb, another coma, some amnesia happened to him. Maybe it’s all the concussions catching up. But I can’t help if he doesn’t want help. Or even accept that he needs help. I was serious back there, I’m done, Martin. No more punching bag, no more the clown so junior agents don’t feel inferior. I had to climb every obstacle on my own and here they keep slapping my hand away when I try to help. Well, let them fend for themselves then, see what it really means.” Tony answered bitterly. “And watch Ziva.”
Balboa shook his head in dismay. “I don’t like to see you like this, Tony. Doesn’t feel like you. After you finish here, we should go meet some of the boys. We can’t shoot hoops, but we can sit, talk trash, eat some wings, even if you can’t have a beer,” he tried to joke.
“Let’s see. I’m pretty tired.”
“Maybe it’s best if you don’t go home,” Balboa retorted.
Tony smiled sadly. “I contacted a frat brother and arranged for the movers to take care of everything between yesterday and today. The apartment should be empty by now. I have a hotel room for a week and a list of possible places to look at. Might hold on to that depending on where I end up.”
“Good. Better not give them any chance to harass you more. We let a lot slide, and nobody wants to do that anymore.”
“Don’t go looking for trouble. Not for me. Vance is delighted with this change.”
“A bit for you, because you’re worthy of it. You always had our collective sixes. But also, for us, because it isn't kosher how they can still be on that bitch’s side. The rest of us might have failed you these last couple of years, but the truth is nobody was sure you would welcome our help. Not against Gibbs.”
Tony frowned. “Probably wouldn’t have, Martin, not until I was thrown to the wolves for doing my job, for what, the third time since Vance arrived? And I’m not even going into Shepard’s tenure. Yep, wakeup call, my friend.” Tony touched his injured shoulder. “Painful wakeup call.”
They separated at the entrance to the HR department, with Balboa continuing towards the parking lot and Tony walking through the department’s door.
“See you in a minute, Tony. I’ll wait by the car to give your keys back and make sure no one comes around to harass you,” Martin said while walking away and without waiting for DiNozzo’s acknowledgement.
Delores Bromstead met Tony by the entrance of the HR area and invited him into her office. She was professional and quick; she certainly wasn’t the type to chitchat. Considering the showdown at the bullpen and the arctic conversation with Vance before, Tony was okay with the mild-mannered administrator and the efficient way she dealt with the whole transfer.
Tony left the HR office in less than half an hour with a folder full of signed paperwork, directions to an office in the Pentagon, a meeting scheduled for the afternoon, and the name of General Jack O’Neill as his contact.
*WADC*
Going through security at the Pentagon was what it was, with all the hassle that security screening at building entrances usually entailed, but which Tony found intriguing, a little funny, and a lot unsettling at the side eyes he was getting when he showed the letter directing him to General O’Neill. No comments were forthcoming, but the looks certainly indicated an expectation related to that specific secret project.
DiNozzo walked calmly in the indicated direction, the folder with his transfer documents secured under his slinged arm. The first door he encountered had a Homeland Security name and logo on it with an ominous ‘Special Projects’ underneath. The agent knocked carefully, and the door was opened quickly by an airman. They looked at each other for a moment, then the airman invited him in before asking what he needed. Tony pulled the folder from under his left arm, showing the NCIS logo on it. “I’m Agent DiNozzo, from NCIS. I should be working with Homeland in a new RU…?” he fizzled out at the end, not really sure of the details.
“Oh, yes, Colonel Davis warned us,” the airman smiled welcomingly. “Please take a seat, Agent DiNozzo, I’ll let the brass know you’ve arrived.”
Tony nodded, choosing one of the standard waiting chairs that you could find in any government building. Not as bad as the ones in hospital waiting rooms, but certainly not made for a comfortable long wait. DiNozzo knew that most brass played the same power games as agency directors and politicians, making you wait to show how busy they were and how magnanimous they could be to finally talk to you, even if they were the ones asking for your presence.
DiNozzo put the folder back under this left arm, rearranging the sling to try to get a bit more comfortable for what he expected to be a long wait. Tony had barely closed his eyes, trying to relax, when the airman was back calling him to the inner office. He scrambled to get up in surprise and the other man dithered, not sure if he should offer help. Tony waved him away, rearranging his sling and clothes, making sure the folder was still in place. He nodded and followed the airman toward the office.
“Agent DiNozzo, from NCIS, sirs!” came the crisp announcement from the airman. Tony walked into the room and heard the door closing behind him.
“Welcome, DiNozzo,” the greeting got Tony's attention, and he turned to his left to find Tom Morrow, previous NCIS director and current Deputy Director for Homeland in the room.
“Ah, hello, sir,” DiNozzo answered. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Morrow snorted. “This is a ‘very special position’, DiNozzo, and I’m happy we got a ‘very special agent’ to man it”
Tony smiled wanly, unsure if the other man remembering how he used to answer phone calls at NCIS was a good thing or not. He turned towards the big desk in the centre of the room to see a man, General O’Neill certainly, sitting there with another officer standing by his side, a Colonel according to the insignias. Colonel Davis,’ DiNozzo’s mind suggested.
“Let’s take this conversation to the meeting table, gentlemen,” the general said. standing up. “We don’t need another fainting spell during the explanation of the job, do we?” He joked, looking at Morrow.
“Your delivery method of relevant information leaves a lot to be desired, Jack, and you don’t even consider risks related to age,” Morrow retorted tartly.
The presumably Colonel Davis lowered his head, hiding a smile.
“You know me, Tom, I’m all for pulling off the bandaid in one go.”
“More like in the most painful way possible,” Morrow responded, moving toward the big meeting table at the left side of the office, capable of comfortably fitting at least 10 people.
O’Neill chose the head of the table farther away from the door and a wall at its back. Colonel Davis arranged his paperwork at the superior officer's right-hand side, and Tom Morrow sat at the general’s left side, gesturing to DiNozzo to take the chair by him. Tony moved calmly to the indicated seat, pulling his folder from under his arm and laying it quietly on the table before sitting down.
“Well, Agent DiNozzo, we have a hefty amount of information to cover and then you will have some serious decisions to make,” O’Neill declared, hands on top of the table. “You already know Tom Morrow,” he gestured to the other man. “He’s the assistant director of Homeland Security, responsible for Special Projects. I’m Major General Jack O’Neill. Two Ls,” he signalled the number with two fingers. “I’m the Director for Homeworld Security and Colonel Paul Davis here,” he pointed to his other side, “is my assistant director.”
Tony raised an eyebrow at the general’s title but didn’t have the time to ask anything before the Colonel interrupted.
“We should start with the NDAs, sir,” Colonel Davis interjected, piling up a few, maybe too many, folders between himself and Tony, midway on the table.
DiNozzo’s eyebrows jumped up together this time, showing how impressed he was with the amount of paperwork presented for his reading and signing pleasure before he could even know what this position entailed.
“Your security level is quite high, DiNozzo,” Morrow said quietly at his side. “But this is the most… probably the most important secret there is in the world at the moment,” he finished seriously.
Tony turned to look at his ex-director, surprised at the declaration.
“That’s a lot of fear mongering,” O’Neill kept a chirpy tone. “Unfortunately, also probably all true,” he gestured towards the pile of paper in the middle of the table.
Colonel Davis pushed the folders closer towards DiNozzo and Tony pulled them the rest of the way, until they were resting closer to him.
“While you read and sign,” O’Neill declared, standing and slapping the tabletop, “we can grab some coffee and pastry. There’s pastry, right, Davis?” He asked his subordinate, his tone between eager questioning and a threatening warning.
“Of course, sir,” was the younger man's long-suffering response. “We have some Danish pastries and muffins that the commissary delivered earlier today.”
Jack clapped his hands and wriggled them in anticipation. “Oh, I hope it’s blueberry muffins! The coffee is not at Danny’s level, but that’s a hard standard to live by, so I’m happy with what we can get.” The General turned away from the meeting table and moved to a corner of the room, where a good spread was waiting on a small buffet cupboard.
Tom Morrow tapped Tony’s uninjured shoulder with a supportive smile and stood up to follow the military man.
“Would you like a coffee and something to eat, Agent DiNozzo, while you read and sign?” Colonel Davis offered.
DiNozzo raised his head to face the other man. “Ah, yes, please, Colonel, some coffee with milk and sugar. Any pastry that survives the General attack would be good,” he joked weakly.
Coronal Davis smiled brightly at the response and pushed a couple of pens closer to the agent. “No problem, sir.”
Tony sighed and opened up the first folder, starting to read the hefty document. He was used to NDAs but this lot was certainly the biggest he’d ever had to do in one go. He let the conversation buzzing from the corner of the room act as white noise while he concentrated. Tony barely nodded a thanks when the coffee cup and plate with a couple of pastries and a muffin were put on his right side, in deference to his functioning upper appendage. DiNozzo drank the coffee and chewed slowly on the food while going through page after page, never making any out loud comment, but letting his mind swirl around with the amount of incredible information he was getting. He finished the last page, signed the last dotted line, closed the file and put his right hand on top of it, taking deep, calming breaths. He finally raised his head to look at the other men who’d seen he was done, and were coming to sit again at the table.
“Aliens?! A big disc that travels through space?! Humans around the galaxy?!” He asked softly, eyes darting between the others.
“And big spaceships!” Jack crooned, slapping his hands together. “And a few space fighters. It’s been hard to get the money for all that, but I think we are doing okay,” he smiled winningly.
Morrow snorted at the General’s peppy attitude, turning towards the agent to address his comments. “Yes, like I said before, it was quite a surprise when I was briefed. I visited SGC, and even went on an off-world mission. Maybe if I was younger I would be more enthusiastic to repeat the experience, but SG teams tend to encounter problems when exploring.”
“Oy, Tom, not true!” O’Neill complained.
“Actually, sir,” Colonel Davis said wickedly. “SG-1 has an 85% chance of encountering hostilities on their missions, according to historical data. The other teams average around 65%. The lowest risk teams are SG-23 and SG-24, our mainly diplomatic units, with a measly 35% rate of hostile encounters.”
Jack turned an annoyed eye toward his assistant. “Not helping, Paul. We are trying to persuade Agent DiNozzo that this is a good gig for him.”
“Ah, don’t worry, General,” Tony commented in a light tone. “I’m quite used to FUBAR situations. That wouldn’t be a reason for me to back off.”
“And what would be, DiNozzo?” O’Neill turned back to the agent.
“The kind of people I’ll be working with. The team I might have. Do I have a team?”
“Not at the moment, no,” O’Neill answered. “We tried to work with AFOSI, didn’t go well, though. NID is a pain in the ass and more on the side of the Trust than on ours…”
“Homeland itself is too focused on ICE and the like,” Morrow completed. “Special projects don’t have a lot of clout and we actually would prefer to stay under the radar to try to keep the whole programme secret.”
“Yeah, I think the normal Joe will flip its lid if they find out that ‘alien’ is not only about people born in different countries,” Tony joked.
“This would be something you could help with, DiNozzo,” Morrow continued. “Ideas to help keep the project under wraps and maybe suggestions about dealing with the eventual disclosure. We know it’s inevitable but we are doing our best to push it as far into the future as possible.”
Tony nodded in agreement. “Right now I would say ‘deep space telemetry’ is a piss-poor excuse if people start to really pay attention to the project’s TOE.”
“Heh, we spread things far and wide,” Jack shrugged.
“It’s still a workout,” Davis finished quietly.
“Let’s not overwhelm our shiny, new investigator!” O’Neill stood up and rearranged his uniform to look better. “What do you think about going to check out the cool places? The mountain is the best but you’ll get to Area 51 soon enough. I asked Hank to hold SG-1 home today so we could introduce you.”
“That sounds great, General,” Tony agreed, keeping his breath and his freak-out under control. “Should I worry about how long my car will be parked here, Colonel?” He turned to ask Davis.
“We can arrange to move it to a more discreet place, sir,” the Colonel answered. “If you are okay with leaving your keys with me.”
“Try to keep it in one piece, please? I had one car totalled on live tv after it was stolen and the CIA exploded another one. I sure would prefer not to go car shopping again.”
“Maybe stick to the ubiquitous government black SVUs, DiNozzo,” Jack looked surprised by the short account. “Less painful to you and your wallet.”
“You’ll be travelling a lot with this post, DiNozzo,” Morrow stated. “I think it’s better to leave your car in a secure location and use an agency issued one wherever you need it. But you might be hitching a better ride all around,” the Homeworld assistant director smirked.
“Oh, yeah! We have a sweet ride whenever one of our ships is in Earth orbit. Today is the Daedalus, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Davis accepted the car keys DiNozzo threw at him and collected the folders from the table. “Colonel Bryce in command.”
O’Neill nodded and moved back to his own working desk, picking up a parcel from one of its drawers. ”I’ll take Agent DiNozzo for a quick tour at SGC, introduce Hank and the kids, and probably let Danny do the complete explanation of the Stargate,” he smiled with a hint of sadism towards the other man.
“After all the reading he had to do, maybe give the man a break before throwing him at Jackson,” Morrow suggested.
Tony swerved around, following the conversation.
“Dr Jackson does a great introduction on the Stargate, the project and all its ramifications,” Davis stated.
“A very detailed introduction,” Morrow whispered closely to DiNozzo.
“Mitchell and Vala will be there, Danny won’t babble too much,” O’Neill walked to the centre of the room, the parcel secured firmly under one arm. “Come on, DiNozzo, let’s go for a ride!”
Tony turned to Morrow, who waved him off. “Sorry, it’s a treat, but I have to go back to Homeland and finish the paperwork. I’ll send you the standard report that you’ll be able to send NCIS but any actual cases will be dealt with within Homeworld.” He waved again to dismiss whatever objection Tony was gearing up to start. “I’ll deal with Vance, don’t worry. There’s no way he’ll be read into the project.”
General O’Neill and Colonel Davis both nodded at that comment. DiNozzo moved closer to O’Neill and watched the other two men move towards the office door. By his side, O’Neill said: “Two for transport, Daedalus,” and a white light engulfed the pair. Tony blinked and barely saw what seemed to be the bridge of a Navy ship before the white light engulfed them again. He blinked a few more times to clear his vision and when he could see again without any spots in his eyes he was clearly in a military meeting room, with a table smaller than the one in O’Neill’s office, a spiral staircase in one corner, a window to an office in the other side of the room, and a big glass wall opposite the stairs showing two levels down and an immense ring positioned in between carved walls.
Tony blinked again and moved slowly towards the big window, eyes never wavering from the sight before him.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” O’Neill bounced on the balls of his feet, a grin on his face.
“Pandora’s box…” DiNozzo muttered.
“I think he will fit right in, General,” the comment came from behind the two men, finally distracting DiNozzo enough to tear himself from the mesmerizing image on the other side of the window.
Six people were in the middle of the room. A one-star general with a very correct posture and an impeccable uniform advanced with an extended hand. He seemed to be around the same age as General O’Neill but less battle weary, with a softer visage.
“Welcome aboard, Agent,” Tony shook the offered hand and nodded with a small smile.
“Anthony DiNozzo is the name,” O’Neill said by the side, still with his animated attitude.
“Call me Tony, please.”
“This is General Hank Landry, commander of the Stargate Command,” O’Neill started the introductions.
Landry gave a small smile and retreated to allow the others in the room to approach.
“Colonel Cameron Mitchell, SG-1 CO,” O’Neill waved and the younger man approached quickly, shook DiNozzo's hand and retreated to be by the side of his companions.
“Colonel Samantha Carter, SG-1 2iC and genius extraordinary,” the general continued the introductions, this time with a soft smile that brought a blush to the woman’s face and made DiNozzo glance sideways to the older man, sensing a deeper connection between them. He also extended the parcel he’d brought with him, passing it to Colonel Carter, who accepted it with a simple nod before turning to Tony.
“Welcome aboard, DiNozzo,” Samatha said softly and let out a bigger smile when Tony raised an eyebrow to her. “Tony.”
DiNozzo felt more than saw O’Neill stiffen a bit with the friendly greeting. Tony filed the man's reaction and the discreet glance Colonel Carter threw towards her superior officer before going back to her team.
“There are other scientists involved in the project, but SG-1 tends to hog Sam’s time,” Mitchell explained, his posture relaxed, hands in his BDUs pants pockets.
“Yeah, well, she’s the best,” O’Neill said, trying to go back to his light mood. “And SG-1 deserves the best, right, Danny?”
The last white man in the group approached, hand extended to shake. “I believe everyone in SGC deserves the best but I’m not ashamed to hog Sam’s time,” he joked. “Dr Daniel Jackson,” he introduced himself to DiNozzo.
“He was the one to solve the mystery of the Stargate, how we could use it,” O’Neill offered. “The jury is still out on whether we should thank or curse him,” he joked.
Daniel snorted and took a few steps back, allowing the next person to approach the agent, but positioning himself between O’Neill and the rest of the team. That was a tall, well-built black man, wearing robes in the Star Wars Jedi style, and holding a staff as tall as him. He had some white hair at the sides and still dark hair on top of his head, and a gold symbol in the middle of his forehead that seemed ingrained more than tattooed. He moved a few paces and bowed. He did not offer his hand after straightening up.
“Teal’c, our first resident alien,” O’Neill joked. “He’s something important in the Jaffa Nation government,” he waved as if he couldn’t be bothered to remember the details. “But he’s nice enough to still spend time here to keep the poor Tauris’ butts safe.”
“Indeed,” came the calm response in a deep voice. DiNozzo bowed back, going with what he knew of Japanese culture. This alien man reminded him of samurai warriors’ tales.
“And the last member to join the gang,” the tone suggested O’Neill was not thrilled with the presence. “Vala Mal Doran, another alien in our midst.”
The brunette swished her way forward, a big inviting smile on her face, her arms extended and grabbed Tony’s hand with both of hers during their greeting. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Tony,” she whispered throatily, invading his personal space, her left hand sliding up and down his good arm, advancing to touch his back, her smile becoming more seductive by the second.
“Vala!” Came the exasperated call from Daniel Jackson.
O’Neill and Landry sighed out loud, like parents that didn’t know what to do with a mischievous child.
The Colonels Carter and Mitchell face-palmed but it was possible to see a smirk hiding under their hands.
Teal’c stayed exactly as he was, nothing showing in his face or posture.
Vala tried to get even closer to Tony but the agent took a step back and tightened his hold on the hand he was shaking, pulling the woman’s arm up and around, making her twirl a bit until her back was to him. Tony then pressed his arm against her waist, never letting go of her hand.
“Pleasure to meet you too, Ms Mal Doran,” he said softly closer to her ear but loud enough so the others in the room could hear. “I expect it would be interesting working with you, but I need my wallet to stay where it belongs, and that’s in my jacket pocket, not your BUDs pants. I would pick it back up myself, but I don’t want a lecture from my doctor if I try to use my bum arm more than I should.” DiNozzo let go of her hand and pushed her lightly away from him. “The dislocated shoulder suffered enough already from two other brunettes. I don’t want to see if third time's the charm and I completely lose the use of my left arm,” he finished with a bit of a bite.
“Vala, you didn’t!” Daniel humpfed, approaching the woman quickly, palms up, requesting that she return whatever she took from the agent.
“Of course she did,” Landry said tiredly.
“Well, it’s a good test,” O’Neill retorted with some humour. “Good to know our new agent is quick on his feet, though.”
”Like I said, he’ll fit right in,” Mitchell commented, with Samantha still hiding a smile behind her hand.
“He’s good,” Vala handed in DiNozzo’s wallet to Jackson and turned back to look at Tony. “It was a test that I’m glad you passed,” she stated. “But I want to know everything about these other brunettes and how they injured you,” she continued while interlinking her arm with Tony’s good one. “I’m offering to help treat it, of course,” she finished locking eyes with him.
DiNozzo’s head cocked to one side, trying to get a read of the alien woman. She had sharp edges and the posture of a warrior. Shadows in her eyes that spoke of a painful past. Her general demeanour was perky and playful but Tony knew that mask well. After all, he used one like it most of the time himself.
“Some TLC might be exactly what the doctor recommended, Ms Mal Doran,” he declared with a practiced smile, still holding something back.
“Oh, Vala, please. And what is TLC? Something you trade off-world?” she asked, a more real smile showing. “I’m very good with negotiations when the product is valuable enough,” she declared.
O’Neill snorted while Daniel facepalmed with a muttered “Oh god”.
Mitchell and Landry held in their laughter and T’ealc stayed quiet, just observing.
It was Sam that explained. “TLC means tender love and care, Vala,” she smiled knowingly towards the other woman. “Something we say on Earth that helps heal almost anything between family and friends.”
“Oh!” Vala looked intensely towards DiNozzo. “I think we can work on this TLC and then we should be great friends soon,” she declared with a smirk.
There was silence for a moment and the most unexpected source cut it with what was clearly his way to make a joke.
“Fascinating,” Teal’c declared in a deadpan tone.
Tony turned to the alien man quickly enough to almost have whiplash, eyes wide open in surprise.
Laughter filled the room soon after. “I knew it was a mistake letting Jack show you all those TV shows,” Landry commented after controlling his laugh.
Teal’c simply raised one eyebrow without moving any other muscle, in an impressive show of facial control.
O’Neill slapped Landry’s back, a smile on his face. “I did SG a favour there, Hank. It was a nightmare trying to explain every single pop culture reference that inundates this place.”
“Not to say all the idioms and slangs,” Jackson nodded in agreement.
“Thanks for the laugh, T, but it’s time to take DiNozzo to the bowels of SGC and let the mean doctors poke him with their big needles.” O’Neill saw the disgruntled look on the agent’s face. “Sorry, man, medical checks are mandatory here for a really long list of reasons. The good side is that we have some alien toys that might help speed up your recovery there,” he pointed to the sling holding Tony’s left arm in place.
“It’s better that Vala and I accompany him, sir,” Carter said after managing to control her laughter. “If we’re using the healing device, we should do turns so as not to get too tired.”
“Yeah, I saw his file,” O’Neill nodded. “The arm and shoulder are not the only things that Dr. Lam will need to deal with. After all, we want our new investigator to be in tip top shape, don’t we?”
“What are you talking about, General?” Tony finally interrupted, still being held by Vala.
“We do the normal exams and treatments here, but we have some trinkets that we collected around the galaxy that can put you back together, almost as new,” O’Neill responded. He shot a glance towards Daniel and completed, “Well, in most cases anyway.”
“I believe General Landry might want to discuss things with you, General O’Neill,” Mitchell filled the silence after the last comment. Nobody wanted to remember that time that Daniel Jackson ascended to avoid dying of radiation poisoning. Mitchell might not have been present then, but the rest of SG1 still carried that wound. “We can take Agent DiNozzo down to the infirmary and start to get to know him. After all, SG-1 did most of the investigations until you invited him to the party, sir,” he smiled his best all-American, apple-pie, next door neighbour smile.
Jack O’Neill squinted at the younger man. “Are you telling me to go to work instead of playing tour guide, Mitchell?”
“Me, sir? Never!” The younger man smiled sweetly, gesturing to himself.
“Well, I’m saying it then,” Daniel Jackson waved towards the two generals. “You two need to reach an agreement about priorities, because NID is still trying to find a way to send a spy to Atlantis, Sheppard and MacKay are complaining non-stop about Elizabeth and we,” he gestured to his team, “are in dire need of some time off, or at least a non-end of the world type of mission.”
“Humm, I concur,” came the deep throaty comment from Teal’c.
O’Neill threw his arms in the air. “Okay, alright, you win!” He waved the group away. “Go on, children! Don’t scare the new agent! Much! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t! Go, go!” He kept waving until the group left through an almost hidden side door.
O’Neill sighed out loud and turned to the other general. “Work then, Hank?”
The other man smiled genially. “We have some decisions to make, Jack. I can sweeten the deal with some pie from the cafeteria?”
“Throw in some of Daniel’s pricey coffee and you have a deal!” O’Neill slapped the other man on the back and walked swiftly towards the office that could be seen from the meeting area.