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Chapter Text

Tony sat back and threw his pen onto his desk. “I was disowned at twelve, McNosy. I don’t have parents,” he threw back to McGee’s sarcastic question about being raised by wolves.

McGee rolled his eyes, “I’ve met your dad. He’s not that bad.”

“Well, he’s not as bad as Eli David, I mean, he didn’t sacrifice me to ‘the greater good’ of Israel,” Tony shot back with bitter sarcasm, smirking as the barb hit Ziva and her face flushed red.

“My father is a patriot!” she shouted as she lunged to her feet.

Suddenly done with everything, and knowing there was an avid audience, Tony’s lip curled. “Poor little Ziva. Your father whored you to the United States for the intelligence that you send him regularly. He had you sacrifice your murdering terrorist brother so you could be slotted into Kate’s place like you were some sort of golem,” he replied evenly. “Not exactly like Kate, but close enough that Gibbs might not notice.”

“What the hell is going on?” Gibbs barked, coming around the corner with his ever present coffee cup, a scowl on his face.

“I’ve only told you a dozen times that Ziva is sending Eli intelligence and you’ve scoffed at me. I’ve sent reports to Vance, SecNav, JAG and the IG and all I’ve gotten is the echoing of crickets,” Tony shot back and was enlightened when McGee went milk pale.

“Oh,” Tony breathed, “McTraitor, you have some kind of computer bug on my computer and fucked with my reports, didn’t you.” The supremely guilty look on the younger man’s face was like a gutshot. Pain and burning the likes of which Tony had only felt with a bullet.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ziva bluffed and Tony slowly got to his feet so he could meet her defiant face eye to eye. She still thought she was going to get out of this. Tony could see Vance headed down the stairs and Balboa moved behind Tony and to the right.

“You know what? Fuck you Ziva David. You too McGee, you fucking traitor. You’re both traitors to the country that I’ve worked so hard for,” Tony spat.

“DiNozzo! That’s enough.” Gibbs snapped, dumping his coffee onto his desk and made to cross to Tony but Tony held up his hand.

“No, fuck you too, Gibbs. Kate was murdered by that bitch and you’ve covered it up. You’ve played the daddy, unless you’ve fucked Ziva because I wouldn’t have put it past her father to have pimped her out to you to make sure you fall in line.”

“You listen here you insolent…” Gibbs barked but stopped abruptly, “David.”

Ignoring Gibbs as he tried as usual to steamroll over everything, Tony had started removing his badge when Ziva pulled her gun and pointed it at him, finger on the trigger, which made him pull his out in an instant and aim back at her making the entire bullpen freeze.

Ziva’s panting breath was loud in the sudden silence, her dark eyes burning with hate. Tony wanted to laugh at the classic scene straight out of the OK Corral but decided it was probably the wrong time.

“My father is a disgusting con man who forgot me, stole from me and probably was responsible for my mother’s death and he’s STILL better than your father,” he said quietly. He cocked his weapon and he knew that Balboa had his weapon out and pointed at Ziva as well.

“Go ahead, Zee-va. Your aim with a handgun is worse than abysmal, remember, I’ve seen your range scores. Mine is excellent because before Gibbs became your puppet he trained me. You’ll be dead before you even fire.” His voice was quiet, each word clear and concise, the hate opaque and fresh like blood on his tongue.

“I’d do what he says,” Balboa commanded and his voice in the silence made Ziva twitch. “Because even if you by some miracle managed to hit Tony, I’d make sure you were dead on the floor.”

Her eyes darted as if looking for a way out, assessing, but after a long tension filled minute Ziva placed her weapon on her desk and Agent Miller swept up behind her. “Ziva David, you’re under arrest for espionage,” he said and continued with other words but Tony wasn’t listening. Another agent was arresting McGee and Rocky came around Tony and gently placed his hand on top of Tony’s and pushed, ever so gently until the weapon was pointed at the ground.

Sound rushed abruptly into Tony’s head and he sagged for a moment before stiffening his spine. He placed the safety on and gracelessly dumped the Sig Sauer, his NCIS cellphone and his badge onto the desk in a pile. He grabbed his Mighty Mouse stapler and put it into his breast pocket then bent down and yanked out the bottom drawer with Gibbs’ medals and fished briefly before he came up with two memory sticks he’d hidden there.

“Here Rocky, everything I have including the proof and copies of the letters and emails I tried to send before I was obstructed by Agent McGee and probably Dr. Sciuto, just a heads up.”

“Agent DiNozzo, I don’t know what the hell just happened here but I don’t appreciate your actions,” Vance snapped.

“Yeah? Too bad for you. I’m out of here.” Tony glanced around, nodded at Balboa and the other agents who’d had his back in the fucking mess.

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs appealed.

“You can’t be serious,” Vance asked incredulously.

“Fuck you too,” Tony replied, deadpan. And with that mic drop he strode to the elevator, turned and smirked briefly at the ashen faced Gibbs, the red-faced fucking terrorist handler and traitor Ziva David, the white as a sheet Tim McGee, former Probie turned traitor.

He let the doors close on another chapter in his life.

6 Months later-

“NCIS is a mess,” the voice said as he put a Mai Tai onto Tony’s cocktail napkin and dropping into the seat across from the tanned and relaxed ex-agent. The pink, fringed umbrella sheltered them both from the overhead sun while the white sand beaches were covered with people, and beyond that the blue waters of the ocean sparkled.

Tony raised the Mai Tai and saluted the FBI agent before taking a long drink. “Tobias.” He looked over the hideous Hawaiian shirt and the mirrored aviators the other man was wearing and hid a smirk in his glass.

Fornell took a swallow of his own frou frou drink before taking off his sunglasses to give Tony a serious look. “David, McGee, Dr. Sciuto are awaiting trial for espionage and a whole host of other charges. I zoned out as JAG kept going. Apparently he was incensed that you didn’t come to him personally and offended on your behalf. After he read the letter you’d tried to send he showed how long he’d been in the Navy. I even learned some new curse words.”

Tony hummed and Fornell sighed. “Gibbs was retired for being a dumbass and SECNAV would like to personally apologize.”

“Fuck him too,” Tony replied and and smiled at Fornell's boisterous laughter.

“I saw that video, it was hilarious!”

“Why are you here, Tobias?” Tony asked patiently.

“Here in La Jolla or is this an existential question?” Fornell retorted with a smile. “I could be on vacation.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Agent Fornell,” Tony riposted. “I hid my tracks pretty thoroughly.”

“Yeah, you did, ‘Cary’. But I went to Agent Balboa and swore on Emily’s precious head before he’d give me any information.”

Tony, aka Cary Gable after two of his favorite Golden Age actors, smirked. He’d purchased this identity years ago after leaving Philly, even going so far as to place a lion’s share of his inheritances in that name, which had saved him when his dad had committed fraud.

The same day he’d left NCIS he’d called in one of the many favors he was owed and paid for his digital presence to be hidden like he’d dropped off of the face of the planet. It had worked because Abby had tried to find him but had hit a brick wall before she was arrested along with Ziva and Tim.

“And? You’re stressing me out, Toby.”

“After you testify do us the favor of listening to some job offers.”

Tony sighed and slouched in his chair. He had enjoyed his vacation but if he was being honest with himself, he was bored out of his gourd. He sipped his Mai Tai, and pondered becoming Tony again.

“Not at NCIS,” he replied firmly.

Toby chuckled, “No, not after you carpet-bombed the place.”

Tilting his head, Tony narrowed his eyes, “You know something.”

“I know a lot of things, like about your doctorates.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony flipped the other man off. “Go away, Toby, I’ll see you after the trials.”

Fornell pouted briefly, looked longingly around (it was cold and blustery in DC currently) and sighed. “See you around, ‘Carey’.”

Tony toasted the other man with a smile.

Chapter Text

Tony unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down in the area the bailiff indicated. It was starting to get stuffy in the room and it was only half full.

Ziva had been sent back to Israel in shackles and Bibi had taken a dim view on the espionage that the senior David had been hip deep in without his knowledge. Eli David was now residing in the Ofer Prison, while his daughter was at the Neve Tirtza women’s prison.

Tim had taken a plea deal. He was serving a sentence of 3 years community service with ankle monitor and banned from government service. Admiral McGee had intervened to save himself embarrassment, while Tim’s sister didn’t speak to him. The sentence was light to Tony but he’d been in law enforcement enough years to know that you took what you got.

Now here he was for Abby’s trial.  He sighed and shifted on the hard, wooden seat as the court room slowly started to get fuller. Three nuns came in and Tony winced.  Before Kate has died, before Ziva and her murderous brother had broken MCRT like an egg, he’d enjoyed bowling with the nuns on the league Abby had belonged to.  

A sigh and a body dropping into the seat beside him made him jerk out of his musings. “DiNozzo,” Tom Morrow greeted genially.

Tony turned slightly and shook the older man’s hand, “Director, how are you, sir?”

“Baffled by why you didn’t call me,” Morrow stated.

“We were balls to the wall with cases for months,” Tony shrugged. “I barely had time to sleep, much less call and whine about getting picked on by the big bad Mossad agent.”

“It was more than that.”

Tony shook his head. “I was exhausted, and thought the lack of response to my original reports was just institutional fatigue or something. I mean it when I didn’t have time for phone calls. The one time I made a personal call in the bullpen to cancel my dentist appointment I got a head slap and read the riot act.”

Tom sighed and sat back. “I realize I gave Gibbs too much leeway…”

This made Tony snort, “You think?  I’ve had almost a year to think about the ‘what ifs’. What if I said no the first time Gibbs head slapped me. The first time he told Kate that she didn’t have to listen to me, when Gibbs started acting like the Captain in Moby Dick, when Shepard brought David in…” he trailed off when the man himself stalked into the small courtroom.

 Gibbs spoke to the bailiff then headed in their direction, his eyes meeting Tony’s briefly with something like regret before he shut down. He nodded to Tony, shook Morrow’s hand and planted himself on the bench without saying anything more.

Always willing to beard the lion, Tony leaned forward and looked at his former boss. “So, how’s the boat, Gibbs?”

Morrow snorted and Gibbs turned his head to glare incredulously at him.

“All rise!” saved Tony from himself and everyone stood as the judge swept in.

Tony listened to the lawyers carefully, especially Abby’s because he wanted to know what he was going to get hit with on the stand. Gibbs was called and was spectacularly unhelpful as always, Morrow was called and spoke in measured tones but since he’d been gone for years, he didn’t have helpful details. Vance was called and for someone usually so smooth and in command, his bumbling explanation of how he let people who he was supposed to be in charge of commit espionage was laughable.  His relationship with Eli David was dissected as well and he left the stand looking like the ineffectual, brown nosing leader that he’d been.

“Anthony DiNozzo.”

Tony sighed and stood, going to the seat to be sworn in.

The prosecution made him look like a hero (which ha, laughable) and the defense tried to make him look like a bad team player (which, ouch, someone had given the man Tony’s weak spots)

“Why did you decide to investigate your team-mate, Ziva David?” the defense lawyer asked (smarmily, like Arnie Becker).

“She was a foreign national slotted into a federal agency. She was not required to attend FLETC, and by her own admission, had signed nothing regarding how to handle national security etcetera. When I voiced my objections to my supervisor and the director, I was told to mind my own business. David later  told me that she felt like she was entitled to all of the clearances just because she was Mossad, and Israel and the US are allies,” Tony replied blandly.

The lawyer pursed his lips, “She, Ziva David, became a citizen. She swore her allegiance to the United States.”

Tony tilted his head. “Yes.”

“You didn’t believe her.”

The prosecution popped to his feet, a little late for Tony’s liking. “Objection, Agent DiNozzo’s feelings for Ziva David are irrelevant.”

“I’m trying to paint a picture, your honor, of how his personal feelings broke up a top federal team, your honor,” the defense lawyer replied.

The judge leaned on his hand and looked over his glasses at the lawyer. “Abigail Sciuto is on trial, not Agent DiNozzo. Redirect your questioning.”

The lawyer rattled his papers before looking back up. “You personally blamed Ms. Sciuto for tampering with your computer.”

“I did. She had remote access to all of our computers so she could access our reports if she had a question.”

“And you didn’t think that was a security issue?” the lawyer inquired archly.

Tony paused. “I’ve worked in law enforcement for almost fifteen years. NCIS was my first federal job and no one seemed to think it was out of order so I assumed it was standard procedure.”

“You didn’t look up the rules for that?”

“Why should I have?” Tony shrugged. “It was common knowledge.”

“You and Ms. Sciuto were friends.” The lawyer took a different tack.

“I was friends with most of the NCIS personnel, yes,” Tony demurred.

The lawyer huffed, “You went out to clubs and bowled with Ms. Sciuto. You were closer than mere colleagues,” he persisted.

Tony nodded, “True. Abby had a tendency to strong-arm her co-workers into activities so she could get to know them better.”  Abby huffed indignantly and the lawyer beside her shushed her.

“She considered you family.”

“So she said.” Tony ignored Abby’s tear-filled brown eyes.

The lawyer’s eyebrows went up. “You didn’t?”

Tony stifled a sigh. “My experience with family is shaky at best. My mother died when I was eight, my father disowned me at twelve because I embarrassed him. I did feel closer than usual to the team, but never considered them ‘family’. I acknowledged that Abby did, that she needed that connection.”

“Do you think what she did was wrong? She didn’t want to break up the family.”

Now Tony’s eyebrows went up. “Yes. What she wanted was irrelevant in this instance. NCIS was dealing with espionage from a team member and she should have understood that.”

The lawyer shook his head. “Even if it broke her heart?”

“Are you for real?” Tony demanded before he looked at the judge who looked taken aback as well.

“No further questions,” the lawyer replied hastily, realizing he’d bungled that line of questioning, and Tony gave him an incredulous look and stood, the room filled with murmurs.

Abby was called to the stand. For her trial she was wearing a black suit that looked she could segue to a Victorian riding academy, black lace fingerless gloves and her black hair was pulled back in a loose bun, the only part of her ensemble that conformed. Her earrings were the black bats Tony has seen her wear many times.

“Ms. Sciuto, can you tell me what you do for NCIS?”

The questioning was obviously to show what a valuable employee she’d been and it was true, Tony acknowledged that she was one of the best forensic scientists he’d worked with. The next question blew him away.

“So, you’re charged with sabotaging Agent DiNozzo’s computer. Can you tell us in your own words what really happened?” her lawyer asked, not knowing he’d just set off a bomb.  

Abby shrugged, “I didn’t sabotage it. It worked fine. I just made sure that his sour grapes wouldn’t affect our family. I knew Tony had been asking questions, so I made sure that Gibbs’ team was kept busy by rearranging the team assignments on the Director’s computer. I was frustrated that even as busy as the team was Tony couldn’t figure out that his complaints would CHANGE things, so I made sure it didn’t.”

Morrow leaned over in the stunned silence to murmur, “Who thought it was a good idea to let her on the stand?”

Tony shook his head.

And the rest of the trial went downhill from there. Whomever thought she’d be a sympathetic figure didn’t count on her brutal, almost child-like honesty. After the defense rested, the prosecutor decimated her defense with her own testimony and in the end she was found guilty.  

Her baffled surprise at the verdict cementing the fact that Gibbs, Ducky, the directors, even himself, had performed an overwhelming disservice to Abigail Sciuto by spoiling her,  petting her and letting her run amok, and now her life would never be the same.

“Fuck,” Tony said with sincerity as the bailiffs led her out,  Abby complaining volubly.

Gibbs leaned forward and let out a loud, shaky breath before he sat back up.

“Did we do this to her?” he asked, the devastation clear on his face.

Morrow frowned as the courtroom began to clear in preparation for the next trial scheduled. “Fuck if I know, Jethro. She’s an adult, attended college and all and I assumed that she would have known what she did was wrong. We indulged her, of course we did, because she was a sheltered academic.”

“We all screwed the pooch here, Gibbs,” Tony threw in testily. “She thought you were going to ride in on your white horse and rescue her. Not only did that not happen, but now no one is going to rescue her and that’s going to be hard lesson to learn in prison. A few years too late but whatever.”

He buttoned his jacket and held out a hand, “It was good to see you, sir,” he said to Morrow.

“You too, DiNozzo. Keep in mind the job is yours,” Tom replied sincerely.

Tony nodded, “Thank you. I’ll be in touch. I have a plane to catch.”

“You’re not going to go see her?” Gibbs asked bluntly.

Tony shook his head. “Not even on a bet. Enjoy your retirement, Gibbs,” he replied and strode out, maneuvering around the milling people. He was a thousand percent done and wanted to be out of DC pronto.

Fornell fell into step with him outside of the courthouse and Tony sighed noisily. “WHAT Fornell?”

“You promised to listen to job offers,” Fornell reminded him mildly. As Tony continued to walk, Fornell kept up, his coat flapping in the cheerful spring breezes. “So, how about that trial, huh?”

Tony sighed again and slowed down. “Who in the hell thought Abby should go to trial, much less testify? What a shitshow.”

Fornell shrugged as they slowed down, then stopped.

Tony stared at the Capitol Dome, hands in his pockets, willing the stresses of the day to release. “I wish Mossad and the CIA had realized that Haswari was a murderous psychopath before he shot Kate.”

“You think that’s when the NCIS train went off the rails?” Tobias asked curiously.

Tony shrugged, lost in memories. “Maybe not, but that’s a huge part of why Abby broke, I think. When her pampered academic foundation was shaken. She knew of course that people can be terrible to each other, but Pacci’s murder, then Gerald getting shot, Kate’s murder, ‘Madam Director’…” Tony rolled his eyes at the thought of the redhead, Chip, her illegal crusade and death, then said “…but when Gibbs got himself blown up and forgot everyone, well, it was the straw that pushed the whole haystack on her.”

“And here we are,” Fornell said quietly.

Tony looked at the FBI agent soberly. “And here we are.”

After a moment, Fornell asked impatiently, “Well?”

“Still on vacation,” Tony teased. At Fornell’s unimpressed face, he capitulated. “Fine. Probably Homeland.”

“What? Come onnnnn, DiNotzo!” Tobias whined.

“What are you, five?” Tony asked in amusement. “The FBI have arrested me for murder three times, Tobias! Three! And also, I hate Slacks.”

“It’s mutual,” the older man agreed. “I get it, I do. But your doctorate in Criminal Justice is worth it’s weight in gold with the FBI.”

“And in every other federal agency and some civilian ones,” Tony agreed, his hair ruffled in the strong breeze.

“God. Fine!”

Fornell’s genuine disgruntlement made Tony snort a laugh.

“What is the offer from Homeland?”

Tony turned and continued to walk down the sidewalk, Fornell falling in step. “Run an investigative team that will be loaned out across the country.”

“Huh,” the other man said, “You’d be bizarrely perfect for that. Who is going to be on your team?”

A shrug. “Not sure. I have a bunch of interviews to do.”

“Let me know if you want some recommendations.”

Tony smiled. “No, I will not take Slacks off of your hands. To drop off of the Royal Gorge Bridge as a favor? Sure, but that’s my final offer.”

Fornell snorted. “Think you’re funny, huh?”

“I’m hilarious,” Tony assured him.

fin

Chapter Text

Good god. Tony had only himself to blame.

Before he even arrived back in LaJolla, he’d let Morrow know he wanted the job. Almost a year off the job and suddenly he was itching to get back into the thick of things. Tom had overnighted his new Homeland credentials and Tony was going to hit the Homeland office in LA to pick up a weapon.

He’d packed up his rental Ford SUV and started up the coast. Unfortunately, he was an idiot and hit peak traffic and by the time he’d hit Oceanside he was over it. He pulled off of the 5 and found a hotel on the beach.

After watching another spectacular sunset, Tony decided to see if he could get a drink.  He’d pulled up a map and picked the first seedy biker type bar he could find and currently, he could only marvel at his fucking ridiculous luck.

Currently he was leaning against the bar and making sure none of the obvious criminals (and the Marines who were dealing drugs) in this bar realized he was a LEO. He didn’t look like one currently, teal board shorts, a definitely touristy t-shirt, (A little tight because he’d been swimming for the past 9 months as part of his exercise/lung therapy program), and worn in sneakers. His Oakleys were hanging off of the neck of his shirt.  

He took a sip of his bourbon when a blonde woman sidled up to him. She was wearing painted on jeans, a white tank with no bra and burgundy off the shoulder blouse. Once upon a time she was probably a bombshell, but currently her face showed that she was in constant pain and was using booze or drugs to keep it at bay. Now she just looked like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet.

“Hey Sailor,” she said huskily, “Lookin’ for a good time?”

Tony smirked around the lip of his tumbler. “Sorry darlin’, you’re not what I’m looking for.”

The blonde smirked, “Wrong bar for that, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m aware,” he replied dryly. “Though there is considerable eye candy,” he charitably included her in his bar survey and she chuckled throatily.

“Smurf,” she said and held out her hand, blushing when he pulled it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Gable,” he replied.

“What are you doing in O’side, Gable?” she asked curiously. He was obviously not a beach bum, jarhead, surfer,  biker or a local of any sort.

Tony snorted. “The 5 killed me. I left San Diego at 2, completely forgetting traffic. After four hours watching people walk their dogs in the median I gave up and got a hotel. I’ll try again in the morning.”

Smurf snorted. “Cali traffic is a bitch, alright. Where are you from?”

“Virginia,” Tony offered. He nodded thanks at the bartender as he picked up his second, and last, bourbon.

“Long way from home,” she replied, side eyeing him as she kept her eyes on the occupants of the bar.

“Vacation. I was about to burn out and I decided sun and surf were what I needed,” Tony replied truthfully.

Smurf nodded, “Sounds like it was a smart thing to do. What do you do?”

Tony sighed, “I’m in finance. I help ‘facilitate’ deals for corporations.”

Her faded eyes sharpened. “What are your plans?”

“Headed to LAX, I’m headed back to Richmond. A family friend passed away,” Tony lied with a sigh. He was playing it up because he didn’t want to get tangled up in whatever crap was going on this little seaside bar.

Knowing he wasn’t staying around, her interest in him waned. “Sorry for your loss.”

Nodding, Tony finished up his drink and set it in the bar. He pulled his wallet out of his front pocket and passed a couple of hundreds across and nodded genially to the bartender who looked surprised.

“Nice talking to you, Smurf,” he said, sliding off the bar stool and putting his wallet back.

“You too, Gable,” she replied, her interest in him gone, which was what he’d wanted.

He strode out and turned right, heading down the sidewalk which was bustling with the beach night life.

The shadow he’d picked up at the bar kept back and to the left as Tony stopped and pretended to window shop. He eventually turned and went into a Mexican restaurant and spent a happy couple of hours flirting with the staff in Spanish and being stuffed to the gills in excellent Mexican food.  Once he was finished, he left a large tip and ducked out the back and caught a taxi back to his hotel. Tail successfully ducked.

Back in his hotel room, Tony pulled out his phone and dialed the NCIS agent stationed on Pendleton to alert them about the bar and the Marines he saw breaking the law there. Everybody else wasn’t his concern at the moment, because if the local cops didn’t know what was going on, he’d eat his old NCIS cap.

“NCIS, Special Agent Sloan speaking,” a crisp female voice replied. Tony was surprised because the last he knew Jack was in San Diego.

“How special is that Special Agent?” Tony teased. He’d known Dr. Jacqueline ‘Jack’ Sloane for years

“Tony?”

“Hey Jack, how are you?”

In her office Jack sat back in her office chair and put her pen down. “I’m shocked. I heard what happened.”

Tony settled back on the obscenely comfortable hotel bed, “I’m sure you heard a version of what happened. Why don’t you tell me what you heard and I’ll clarify or correct you.”

Jack repeated the story she’d been told thirdhand and Tony told her what really happened.

“Wow,” Jack stared blankly at the wall. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Right?” Tony replied. “While you’re cogitating on the disaster of my life, let me tell you what I stumbled across,” and he gave her a detailed and concise report of what had been happening with the Marines at Cody’s.

“Wait, you’re here?” she demanded.

Tony smirked. “I’ve been here for almost ten months. But if you want to meet for breakfast, I’ll feed you.”

They connected in a beach side diner in San Clemente and he regaled her with his vacation photos, most of which were photos of animals from both the zoo and the wild animal park and the multitude of beautiful sunsets from his balcony.

Finally she sat back, her sides aching from laughter as he described the various people he’d seen on the shores of La Jolla. “Why didn’t you call before?” Jack demanded.

With a sigh, Tony ran a hand through his sun highlighted hair, before dropping it to fiddle with his sunglasses. “I was so burnt out. I felt betrayed and disgusted with the entirety of NCIS.”

“Even Gibbs? Everyone thought he’d drop dead of a heart attack on a crime scene and you’d step into his boots.”

Tony snorted. “Especially Gibbs, Jack. He ignored me after I’d repeatedly told him something wasn’t right. It was always, ‘I’m right and screw everyone else’s opinion.’ Now he gets to spend more time with the boat in his basement.”

Taking a sip of her coffee, she looked Tony over. He was tanned, relaxed and looked fitter than he’d ever been. “What are you going to do now?”

He smirked and slid his new credentials across the table to her.

She opened them up and looked back at him, “Homeland, Special Operations? I’ve never heard of that department.”

“You’re looking at it,” he said, leaning back in his chair, arms across his chest.

“You’re going build a team,” she said. “I’m interested.”

Surprised, Tony looked at her curiously. “I thought you were doing to be like Hetty and die at your desk for NCIS.”

Acknowledging the truth of it, Jack sighed. “Vance and Shepard set NCIS up for failure, I’m just lucky I was out here and didn’t splashed by the shit.  So, I’m really interested in getting in the ground floor of something new.”

Tony fished in his wallet and handed her a card. “Send your info here. I’ll fast track it with Morrow.  How soon can you move?”

Jack pursed her lips. “I have two cases going through JAG, then trial and am working on four more. Two months?”

Tony stood and held out his hand. “Welcome to HSO, Special Agent Sloane.”

Back on the road again, Tony enjoyed the ocean to his left and the towns and rolling hills to the right before he started seeing cities starting to fill in the coastal gap. He followed the GPS to the 405 and then the maze of smaller highways and then city streets until he found parking in downtown LA. He got out of the rental, threw a navy blazer over the polo shirt and khakis he was wearing and went inside.

Once he figured out the map, he found the Department of Homeland Security office and signed in, then signed a shit load of paperwork that Tom had sent over. He handed over his new i.d. to the admin and they inputted everything into the computer. Once he was done, they sent him to pick up weapons, per the directors’ instructions.

The weapons locker held a delightful and varied amount weapons regularly used by both the FBI, Homeland et.al.  After a thorough look he picked both a 9mm Glock and a shoulder holster (he had an Italian leather worker back in DC who would be delighted to custom make him a new shoulder rig for his new weapon.) and a backup S&W Shield for an ankle holster. He also picked up two packages of zip-tie cuffs, just to be on the safe side. He signed for it all and handed over his Homeland i.d. and his driver’s license, then opened his wallet and pulled out a folded copy of his birth certificate and social security card and gave them that as well. He’d learned early on in his federal career that the government MAY have copies of everything, not everyone believed it and wanted proof.

The paperwork complete and weapons on, Tony actually felt better. Less naked, but that was weird. He meandered through the facility, introducing himself and getting a tour with the LA director. He realized that the man was giving him everything and stopped abruptly.

“Look, I get the issues but why tell me?” he asked bluntly.

Director Hasserman stopped. “Because you’re headed back to DC and Tom wanted you to give him an assessment of our facility.”

Tony nodded, “Okay, good to know. I wish you’d told me before but now I’m in the correct mindset. So give it to me,” he said, making a ‘bring it at me’ waved with both hands and the director laugh.

The tour was comprehensive, and Tony thought the director was doing a great job and told him so. They ended the tour in the cafeteria and Hasserman regaled him with a bizarre story of how the current Sheriff of LA county got his job.

Apparently he was something of a cowboy and over the years had made enemies in the department,  but because he was the longest serving deputy some outdated (late 1800, early 1900) law made him Sheriff when the previous Sheriff dropped dead. Rumor was that he was something else, Feds either hated him, (US Border and Customs was chief among the haters since the Sheriff declined to hand over undocumented aliens) or loved him because he came down like the wrath of god on dealers and criminals and helped get a lot of cases solved.  

Tony laughed and didn’t think anything of it.  He asked the director for names of people who he thought might be a good fit for HSO and were willing to relocate, then headed to his hotel in Marina Del Ray. He checked in and grabbed his computer, settled on the balcony that was one story above street level with a view of the ocean and typed up his report of the LA office.

“DiNozzo?” a voice called and startled Tony out of his concentration and he looked down to see Callen and Hanna standing on the street below.

“Hey Sam, G, how are you?” he called back and sat the computer down and leaned on the balcony to smile at the agents.

“How about instead of shouting at each other on the street you invite us up,” Sam added with sarcasm, making Tony laugh.

“Come on in, I’ll meet you in the lobby,” he called. He placed the computer in the safe, along with his back-up piece, locking it and headed downstairs.

In the lobby Tony greeted the NCIS agents and took them back up to the suite he was renting.

Callen whistled in appreciation, turning to take in the suite. “Fancy.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m on vacation,” he explained, “Well, I ~was~ on vacation. I took a job with Tom Morrow and Homeland.”

Hanna nodded. “I can see that. I heard about Sciuto’s trial.”

“Ugh, it was a shit show,” Tony complained. “Drink?”

“Nah man, how about coming over for dinner,” Sam said, wandering the room and picking up random objects.

Tony looked at G in surprise and the other man shrugged. Sam looked over at the impatiently, “We’ll be able to talk and eat.”

“I’d rather not,” Tony replied honestly. “I have nothing to say to Hetty. And I’m sure she’s not run out of things to tell me about how poorly I handled things in DC. So, I’m gonna have to decline.”

G snorted because he knew Hetty wasn’t DiNozzo’s biggest fan. “That’s fair. How about ordering room service and we sit around and tell us what you’re doing in LA.”

Sam shrugged, “Let me call Michelle and tell her I’ll be late.”

The three men sat around and passed boxes of Chinese food around, while Tony told them what had happened and how the main NCIS office and MCRT had melted down.

“Well, shit show is an understatement,” G replied, stealing a piece of fried pork from the end of Tony’s chopsticks, making him laugh.

“Frankly, no matter how fond Hetty was of her, most of the bullshit was Shepard’s fault. I just was the dumbass who tried to hold everything together for Gibbs,” Tony sighed.

“No shame in that,” Sam said, he grabbed the chopsticks from G and put them in an empty box. “So, what are you doing in LA? I don’t buy the vacation story, just so you know.”

Getting up, Tony opened he safe and pulled his credentials out and tossed them to Sam.

“Homeland?” Sam asked, passing them to G.

“My own team and everything.”

G frowned at the new badge and credentials. “Doing what?” he asked, handing them back to Tony who put them into the safe.

He explained the job and what he’d be doing, and what he was looking for in a team.  “I’ve already poached Jack Sloane,” he finished.

“Dr. Sloane? I had her in FLETC. She’s excellent,” Sam said, his tone impressed.

“It will piss Vance and Granger off,” G smirked, making Sam chuckle.

Tony’s eloquent shrug showed how much he cared.

“Do you know anyone that likes travel, wouldn’t mind moving to the D.C. area and would make a good team member?”

Sam stood, “Let me talk to Nell, she knows everybody. Stop by the boathouse in the morning.”

Tony agreed and when the men left, he got his computer out and finished his report. He didn’t trust the hotel wifi but he could send the report from the boathouse, and Tom would get his report securely.

His phone rang and he absently answered it, “Hello.”

“So, I’ve been getting hate mail from Vance.” Morrow’s voice was cheerful.

Tony chuckled, “What now?”

“Luckily I got your email first because he’s hot about losing Dr. Sloane.”

“Too bad for him. Watch for calls from Granger too.”

Morrow chuckled. “He’ll leave it alone if he knows what’s good for him. I told SECNAV to promote Owen instead of that sycophant Vance, and now look where we are.”

“Yep. I’m going to the boathouse tomorrow, so don’t be surprised to get an angry call from Hetty because I’m not going to bow to her emotional blackmail about ~anything~.”

“Good for you, Tony. You’re my agent now and she can complain all she wants.”

Feeling embarrassed but warm and fuzzy from being so appreciated, Tony ended the call and put the computer away. He got ready for bed and clicked through the channel offerings until he stumbled across a True Grit marathon and quickly fell asleep to the western.

The morning was bright and Tony bitterly regretted not closing his curtains but he gamely got up and brushed his teeth before pulling on a pair of swim shorts and going to the roof top pool and doing his laps. He was almost in better shape than when he joined NCIS. His lungs felt great but Brad was nagging him to get his way overdue six month check up somewhere in California while he was there. So far he’d avoided it but would eventually give in.

Back in his room he drank a mango breakfast smoothie, jumped into the shower and got dressed in what he called ‘California business casual’, or a pair of skinny leg gray jeans, a blue polo and a navy blazer. With a quick scrub of gel through his hair, Tony took off his blazer with a quick curse that he’d forgotten he was carrying again, and put his shoulder holster and gun on before be put the back up piece in the safe, the legs to the jeans being too tight for it.

Grabbing the computer and relocking the safe, he headed outside and enjoyed the bright sunshine as he walked to the boathouse.

“DiNozzo?” Kenzi asked incredulously.

Tony smiled, “In the flesh. How are you Agent Blye?”

“Kenzi,” she reminded him and shook his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to connect my computer to a secure network and send a report to Director Morrow and then Sam and G said they’d help me with something,” he explained.

“Cool. What?”

Tony caught Deeks from the corner of his eye and said, “How would you like to work for me at Homeland?”

“Not even on a bet, DiNozzo,” Marty stated as he came up to stand beside Kenzi, arms over his chest and a frown on his handsome face.

Tony caught Kenzi’s eye and both of them burst into laughter. She knew he’d been trolling Deeks and enjoyed the joke on her partner.

Eric trotted down from his office area and held out his hand for Tony’s computer, then pulled it back, “Unless you want to be there as I hook it up?”

“It’s literally got one report for Director Morrow in an email. It’s about my thoughts on the Los Angeles Homeland office. I think I can trust you to send it off for me.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Hetty’s indignant voice came from above and everyone looked up to see the Supervisory agent glaring down from the balcony.

“Do you really want to do this here?” Tony asked quietly.

Hetty carefully stepped down the stairs, her laser glare on Tony. “You let your vanity break up the premier team for NCIS.”

“Do you know what NCIS’s mandate is?” Tony asked.

Taken aback, she glared, “Of course I do,” she snapped.

Tony nodded genially. “I used to be a cop, you know? Youngest to ever make detective. My job was to enforce the law, not the gray area but the black and white. For the past year I was blaming Shepard for this disaster. Bending the law, letting grief define her actions and using her office for personal vendettas and ties with shady foreign government agents. Then I realized Vance is part of it, letting Eli lead him around by his balls. Then wow, Gibbs did the same thing, and I began to see a pattern of people you trained or worked with, Agent Lange. I now realize the person I should have blamed was you. You spies forgot how to live like a real law abiding citizen when you came in from the cold. Unfortunately it doesn’t really translate to law enforcement.“

“How dare you!” she spat.

“Oh, don’t be so self- righteous,” Tony tartly replied. “Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Not run around and fuck/fight/kill foreign operatives. You’re ~supposed~ to be helping investigate the Navy and Marines and crimes done to and by them. That’s it. You’re not a spy anymore, Agent Lange and I think it’s something that you, Gibbs, Franks and unfortunately for the MCRT and Abby Sciuto, Shepard forgot. Fortunately for you all, I didn’t. “

“Um, I sent that email,” Eric interrupted, eyes big as he handed off the computer.

“Thanks, Eric,” Tony smiled, ignoring Hetty who had worked herself into an incandescent rage.

Sam sharply nudged G who shook himself and trotted over to the steps to cajole Hetty back to her office.

“I’m sorry,” he offered to Sam.

“You offered to take it elsewhere, man,” Sam shrugged. “What can you do? Listen, Nell and I came up with a list. I’ll send it to your email, okay?”

Tony admired Sam. Former Navy SEAL and so zen. If Hetty wouldn’t put out a hit on him, he’d poach the man in a hot second.

“Thanks, man.” Tony stopped by the door, and looked back, “Oh, someone really should look into the Director’s past. He’s ~really~ not himself.” He smirked and touched his imaginary hat in salute and let the door swing shut.

The LA NCIS office all looked perplexed, then Eric snapped his fingers and went to his computers.

Back at the hotel room, Tony was wired after the confrontation with Hetty. He ordered a sandwich to go, changed into shorts and a t-shirt, threw the computer and shoulder holster and gun into the safe before taking off.  

After about a half hour drive to the tallest hill he could see, Tony found a spot that looked out onto LA and to the ocean. He opened up the back of his Ford SUV rental and grabbed his sandwich, chips and a bottle of water and proceeded to sit down and empty his mind and just be.

Bill was driving hell bent for leather, sirens wailing, though he smirked when Bishop grabbed the ‘oh shit’ handle during that last turn. The beat up LA Sheriff blazer roared up the road after the drug dealer who thought he could get away with hitting one of Bill’s deputies with his car.

“Well?”

With one hand still on the ‘oh shit’ handle, Bishop thumbed through her texts with her left. “Carter has a broken leg, four broken ribs but no concussion.”

Bill sighed with relief and pressed his foot down on the gas, the old truck fishtailing as he took another turn.

Tony was halfway through his sandwich when he heard the roar of a vehicle and sirens, but with sound bouncing off of the hills it could be anywhere. He continued to munch thoughtfully on his sandwich when a burgundy colored Caprice burst into the parking area. The driver’s side tire was flat and when the driver got out he was wild eyed and his gray t shirt dark with sweat. He had a blue, sweat soaked bandana on his head with Dodgers cap over it, and he stormed over to Tony and pointed a knife at him.

“Give me your car!”

The sound of sirens was getting closer and Tony took his bottle of water and took a drink while the guy jittered in place with his knife.

“Nah, man, it’s a rental. I can’t give it back damaged.”

For the second time that day Tony made someone incandescent with rage. He wondered if it was a record.

“I don’t give a fuck, give me your car!”

Tony put his water bottle down and slid out and onto the ground.  Mollified by the apparent obedience, the guy stepped back and Tony bent down and took the guy out like a linebacker. The guy’s head bounced off of the hard dirt and it was lights out.  Tony stayed on top of him for a second to make sure before he rolled to his feet and went to the vehicle and pulled out the cable ties and trussed the guy up like a turkey.

He picked up the knife and put it on the bed, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder and picked up his sandwich and took another bite, it was a damn good sandwich. Avocado was a favorite.

The roar of a truck and siren announced the dust covered Chevy it pulled up behind the Caprice and stopped. Blessedly the sirens stopped as well. Two people got out, a Sheriff’s deputy and a woman in a sharp suit, probably a detective,  got out and stopped and stared.

“Your village lost it’s idiot.  It’s okay, I found him,” Tony explained.  

“Tony?”

Tony belatedly realized that he knew the woman, and smiled, “Bish! What the hell are you doing out here?” He asked delightedly and dropped his sandwich onto the paper and grabbed her up in a boisterous hug.

Bill stood there, hands on his hips as his usually dry and serious security detail smiled wide. The dumbass at his feet groaned and he was reminded of why they were there.

“Sheriff, this is Agent Tony DiNozzo. I’ve known him for years, we used to play basketball at the Y back in D.C. Tony, this is Sheriff Bill Hollister.” She beamed proudly at the two men.

Tony shook the other man’s hand, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard some wild shit.”

“Oh, it’s all true,” Bishop said promptly.

“Hey,” Bill said feelingly, “Not all of it. What are you agent of?”

“I work for Homeland,” Tony explained.

“You’re bleeding,” Bill replied, nodding at Tony’s shoulder.

“What?” Tony twisted to look at where the Sheriff nodded and sure as shit, that idiot must have gotten a lucky swipe in when Tony took him down like a Buckeye. “Son of a bitch.”

Another sheriff’s vehicle roared into the clearing and Bishop grabbed the First-Aid kit out of the truck and while she cleaned and bandaged his shoulder, the newly arrived deputy got his specially wrapped prisoner to take to jail.

“DiNozzo. Ohio State?” Bill asked, coming back over as Tony eased his shirt back.

“Guilty as charged” Tony admitted.

Bishop tutted. “He needs to get this checked out. Is Paula working today?”

“Yep. I’ll let her know you’re driving him in,” he said. “Meet you there.”

Tony shook his head. “You’re not taking me to the hospital. It’s just a scratch.”

Bishop snapped her fingers. “Give me your keys, you big baby.”

“If you know her you may as well give up,” Bill said wisely. “Thanks for getting our idiot, by the way, He hit one of my deputies with that piece of shit, and he’s in the same hospital you’ll be going to.”

“It’s always good to get one more idiot off the street,” Tony said resignedly.

Paula glanced over the paperwork Tony had filled out. “Dr. Brad Pitt?” she asked amusedly.

“No relation,” Tony replied blandly. Nothing to see here.

A doctor had come through the curtain and was rifling through the cabinet. “Pitt? I’ve met him, hell of a pulmonologist. He wrote an article about some schmuck in D.C. contracting an antibiotic resistant strain of the plague and recovered!” He apparently found what he was looking for and swept out.

Tony was pokerfaced but Paula hadn’t raised a daughter and worked with patients for years for nothing. “You had the plague?”

Bishop covered an amused cough with her hand when Tony, somewhat sulkily, replied affirmatively.

“Mmhm,” Paula said and made a notation on Tony’s chart. “And if I called Dr. Pitt, what would he say?”

“Please don’t call him,” Tony pleaded, batting his eyes.

Bishop and Paula both snorted at the juvenile plea. “Tell me what I need to know.”

Tony gave up. “He’s been after me to get a pulse ox, chest x-ray and a pulmonary function test.”

Paula’s eyebrows rose at his recitation. “When was the last time you had any of that?”

An aggrieved sigh. “Almost a year?”

“Ay dios mio. Men. They need a limb to fall off before they see a doctor,” she muttered under her breath and Bishop maintained a straight face with difficulty.

“Everything looks good,” the pulmonologist said, as he held up the chest x-ray and nodded. “You need to keep doing what you’re doing, swimming and the dry air here seems to be helping. Fascinating,” he murmured at the end.

Tony took that as permission to get dressed and proceeded to with alacrity. The butterfly bandages on his shoulder pulled somewhat but he ignored it with long practice.

“Do you need an inhaler?”

“I’ve got two with me but haven’t had to use them,” Tony replied as he rapidly buttoned his shirt.

“Will you give me permission to discuss your results with Brad?” the doctor asked as he slid the x-ray into the envelope. “Believe it or not, we occasionally get the homeless person with the plague from being bit by a flea. It will be helpful.”

“Sure, I was going to sign anyway since Brad’s been hounding me,” Tony said and after reading it through, signed it with a flourish.

Bishop was holding up the wall outside and smirked when Tony appeared. “You going to live?”

“So he says,” Tony replied dryly. He held out his hand and Bishop handed over his piece and his badge/credentials. He put everything on and sighed, “I hate you.”

“Oh good,” Bishop smiled. “We’re going over to Bill’s. He’s making tacos and wants to talk football.”

Tony paused. He already like the Sheriff and his wife, and reconnecting with Bish would be fun. “Sounds like a good time. Is Gen going to be there?” He’d met her back in D.C. at a law enforcement event and really liked her.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

Once free of the hospital Tony’s phone rang and he groaned and answered it. “It wasn’t my fault,” he offered before Morrow spoke.

Tom chuckled warmly. “Was there something I needed to know?”

“Nope!” Tony lied through his teeth as he got into the passenger side of his rental. Bishop started the car and they headed out.

“Tony.”

“I helped the LA Sheriff’s office with an idiot, but that’s it!”

“Liar,” Bishop fake coughed. Tony shot her the finger.

“Mmhm, you know I get notified when an agent goes to the hospital.”

Tony made a face. “The idiot had a knife, I got butterfly bandages. Nothing to see here.”

“I’m sure,” Morrow replied dryly. “Technically vacation doesn’t involve ‘idiots’.”

“Yes sir!” Tony chirped.

“Thanks for the report, by the way, it’s very helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Oh look, it’s almost dinner time. Have a good night, sir,” Tony said and pressed end on his phone.

“Hoo boy,” Bishop said with a head shake.

“Shut up,” Tony sulked and sunk down in his seat.

Paula threw her head back and laughed as Bishop told the story of the village idiot. Bill smirked from the grill as he threw more beef strips in a cast iron pan and it sizzled.

“So, tell me what you’re really doing in my county,” Bill asked Tony who was sitting on the bench nearby.

Tony sipped his truly excellent Mexican beer. “I’m actually recruiting a team for Homeland, though ostensibly on vacation. I’ve already poached an agent from NCIS and I have a list to go through.”

“What kind of team?” Bill asked curiously and listened as Tony verbally sketched out what he was looking for.

Bill nodded thoughtfully. A commotion at the door brought both men’s heads around and an African American deputy in uniform came into the backyard.

“I heard it was tacos!” the man said cheerfully. “I wanted to pick some up for Carter. He was already complaining about the hospital food.”

“Joseph,” Bill greeted the younger man with a smile. “Tony, this is my godson, Deputy Joseph Harris. He’s so new he squeaks. Joey, this is Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. He played for Ohio State in the Final Four twice.”

Tony snorted and stood, shaking the younger man’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Harris.” He eyed the kid and even though he was green, Tony could tell he was already getting seasoned by the job.

“You too, sir,” Harris said politely, before turning pleading eyes to Bill. Bill snorted and pointed with his tongs to the counter by Paula where a large bag already sat.

“You’re the best!” He grabbed the bag, kissed Paula on the cheek and ruffled Maggie’s hair before he left.

“Do you need a rookie?” Bill asked, not looking over at Tony as he stirred the secret spices into the meat. The smell was glorious, if he did say so himself.

“That smells amazing,” Tony said and looked at Bill. “I need people. Why do you ask?”

Bill pulled the beef out and placed it on the platter before dumping in a bowl with sliced red and green peppers and onions into the sizzling skillet. He stirred it meditatively before he looked at Tony.

“His dad was my partner and died on the job. His mother begged me to fail him from the course.”

Tony nodded, he’d seen parents do that before.

“He’s got the right instincts,” Bill bragged a bit.

“He graduated in May? He’s seen action already.”

The lawman in Bill appreciated that the agent knew what he was talking about. Tony’s police background went a long way in his books.

“Yep. But a Federal job? His mother might speak to me again and it would be good for his future.”

Tony nodded. “I’ll leave my email with Bish. Send me his info. I could do with a Probie again,” he said.

There was something like grief in the agent’s voice, but Bill nodded. “I’ll owe you.”

“Oh,” Tony assured him, “I’ll collect.” Bill’s laughter rang out.

Cade stepped into the backyard, his wife and foster kids following. “Tacos!” the man crowed while the women performed a synchronized eyeroll at the menfolk.

Bill introduced Tony around and then switched the conversation to college football while Cade stuffed his face. The little girl was chattering away to Maggie while the pre-teen boy was sullenly sitting close and eating his plate of tacos, beans and rice, but not too close.

“So, was your dad law enforcement?” Cade asked curiously. He hadn’t seen Bill take to someone like this since Bishop. Who apparently knew the fed.

Tony laughed, “Nah. My dad is a criminal,” he said, unaware that little ears perked up. “He was responsible for my mother’s death, though I can’t prove it and he’s a professional con man. He disowned me when I was twelve and after 20 years barged back into my life, tried to steal from me and trashed my condo.”

“Wow, sorry I asked,” Cade replied with chagrin, and Bill laughed.

Tony waved a hand that wasn’t busy doctoring his taco, “No problem. I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. I proved that his choices didn’t make me bad too. Of course, I’m a work in progress.”

“As are we all,” Paula interjected as she stole her husband’s taco right out of his hand.

“Hey!” Bill protested before pulling her close and kissing her fondly.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked Tony, eyes sharp.

Tony swallowed and shrugged, then winced. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” she replied.

“Let the man alone,” Bill chided playfully. “He’s an adult.”

Paula rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure.”

“I play one on T.V.,” Tony said earnestly and everyone laughed.

Tony has said his good-byes and was about to get into his rental when Cade came out and cleared his throat. “Hey, DiNozzo. Thanks for that.”

Baffled, Tony leaned against the SUV and asked. “For…?”

“My foster kids were in the room when I had to shoot their father. He was a pretty bad guy, drugs, assault, theft, you know the drill. What you said about your father got my foster son thinking.”

“Wow, and how did you become their foster dad?” Tony asked curiously.

“I kind if fell into it. I was in foster care all my childhood, then the Marines. I understand their circumstances probably better than most,” Cade explained.

Tony nodded, “Listen. They’re both going to be angry, separately and at the same time. It will suck. But be patient and consistent. Don’t try to bribe them to like you, because you’ll be tempted.”

“Sounds like you were in foster care.”

“Well, I bounced in and out of several military schools but comparisons could be drawn. This is the time he’ll make a choice whether he’ll grow up to be a criminal, or take the road you’re on, so be patient.”

Cade nodded, hands in his pocket. “Thanks, I appreciate the advice.”

Tony waved a hand, “You already knew all of this. Semper Fi,” he said and offered a fist to the other man.

“You were a Marine?”

“I played one for a day, during an NCIS investigation. Did a night jump and everything,” Tony smiled as the other man fist bumped him back.

“Well Jesus, that was dumb. You're lucky to not have ended up as a greasy spot.” Cade laugh.

“You have no idea,” Tony said feelingly. “What did you do in the Corps?”

“Sniper.”

“Oh god, you knew my old boss then. Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs.”

“Gunny Gibbs? I sure did. Small world.”

Tony made a face, “More like I’m being haunted.”

Driving up the coast, Tony began to slowly unwind. The morning confrontation between himself and Hetty had bothered him more than he thought, and he’d kept worrying at it like a sore tooth.  Driving away from LA was helping him let it go.

He didn’t really have a goal.  He’d planned on trying to fly out of San Fran back to Virginia but he still wanted to look into getting more team members before he left. He had the list that Sam and Nell gave him so he was going to get a hotel and check it out.

Outside Morro Bay he found a sweet little B and B and checked in. It was on the beach, (his running theme for his vacation) and he’d decided to hike the local trails. It was gorgeous and eventually the trail he was on ended up in the downtown area, which had several charming restaurants. He stuffed himself with the best clam chowder and cheddar biscuits he’d ever had and then meandered back to the B&B to go through the names.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful evening, Tony took his computer to the front porch and planted himself in the wicker rocker and opened up the email from Sam and Nell.

“Hi Tony, Sam and I went through people, agents and even people we didn’t like and made this list. Sam told me to tell you it ~wasn’t ~ a hit list.”

Tony chuckled and opened the attached file.

‘Retired Admiral A.J Chegwidden’

His record was the bomb. Navy SEAL. Spy. JAG. A living legend.

“Huh.” Tony knew that Chegwidden lived in the Falls Church area. A possibility.

‘Special Agent Nick Torres’

Tony had been asked to teach a class on undercover at FLETC when Nick was going through. Nick was a middle of the road student, but excellent at undercover according to G.  He’d also heard rumors that the man was really into underaged girls, so that needed to be investigated first. A probable no.

‘Former Agent Meredith Brody’

She used to work on Pride’s team in NOLA and her record was stellar. She’d quit after killing her boyfriend, a former Homeland Agent. Tony winced. He’d send out feelers and see if she was even interested. He didn’t want Jack to be the only woman on the team but yikes.

“Master Sgt. Brad Colbert.’

Colbert he knew. He’d met him at the Marine Corps ball with his partner, Nate Fick. Nate was busy with CNAS, but Tony hadn’t realized that Brad was retiring. A definite yes, if he could tempt him.

An email popped up from Bishop and he laughed at the subject line ‘You OWE me a game’.

He really liked Bishop and Gen and it had been an unexpected pleasure to see them in LA. He opened the attached file and the sparse record for Joseph Harris appeared. It showed that the kid was newer than a shiny penny, but he’d graduated top of his class from USC, and almost top of his class in the academy, and had potential. Tony was all about potential. He may have failed with McGee, but there was no Mossad Mata Hari on his new team and he felt hopeful that he could turn this kid into a stellar agent.  If he accepted.

He went through more names, including a task force member in Nevada, a native Hawaiian named Kono Kalakua, only looking up when the elderly proprietress of his B and B came out, a bundle of knitting her hands. She settled into the other seat and smiled at him. “I always end up here at the end of the day.”

Glancing back at the beginning of the sunset that he’d been ignoring due to work, Tony nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I can see why.”

“Call me Ms. Emma, dear.”

The creak of the rocking chair and the click of needles lulled him into a comfortable daze, the computer sat ignored on his lap as the sun performed its spectacular dance into the ocean. When the last ray blinked out but the sky still glowed faintly, Tony looked over.

“If you were going to hire someone, what would be the most important thing that you’d look for?”

The porch light was obviously on a sensor because it blinked on and Ms. Emma smiled. “Looking to learn how to makes beds, dear?”

Tony chuckled, “No. Just want another opinion.”

The needles clicked for a minute as Emma considered his question. “Heart. Anything else can be taught, but if they don’t the heart for it, they aren’t worth a hill of beans.”

Tony sat back and thought about it, nodding. “You’re right, Ms Emma. “

“Well, I’m old so being right comes automatically,” she replied prosaically. Tony’s laughter made her grin and she continued to rock and knit.

He forwarded his thoughts to Director Morrow, then an email to Pride about Brody and shut everything down. In his room, he checked the time and checked through his phone numbers and pressed call.

“Pride.”

“Dwayne, it’s Tony.”

In New Orleans, King smiled. “My favorite Italian. How the hell are ya, Tony?”

Warmed, Tony could only smile. “I’m good. Working for Homeland now.”

“I’d heard. I’m so sorry about MCRT. It was a mess.”

“Old news,” Tony said lightly. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything that I can give,” King replied earnestly.

“Agent Brody.”

Pride sighed. “She’s got a self confidence problem. Brody was an exceptional agent but having to shoot the man she’d once loved made her doubt herself.”

“Hmm,” Tony mused. “I can relate. Though I didn’t have to kill Ziva. I might have fantasized about it once or twice,” he confided.

“Tony,” Pride laughed. “Shame on you.”

Tony chuckled. “I’m going to call her and sound her out.”

“It’s been a couple of years,” Pride mused. “Tell her to call me if she has questions.”

“Thanks, Dwayne, I appreciate your help.”

The older man sighed. “I wish I coulda helped ~you~ sooner.”

“Can’t live in the past, can only move forward.”

Pride smiled. “Truth, my friend. Be well.”

“I will, thanks.”

D.C.

“You look great, Tony,” Tom said sincerely.

It was true. Tony was tanned, fit and more relaxed than he’d been since college. His hair was sun bleached and his smile easy.

“Thank you, sir, California was good to me,” Tony replied, fanning the folders in his hands like a card dealer.

Tom gestured to the desk. “Okay, let me have them.”

Tony smiled. “Admiral A.J. Chegwidden.”

Tom looked startled and opened the file. “Well hell, son. I’ll say yes automatically.”

“Right? He’s wearing jeans, a SEAL t-shirt and rummaging through office supplies even as we speak.”

“Dr. Jack Sloane.”

“Already said yes to her. She’s chomping at the bit.”

Tony chuckled. “She’ll be on the plane tomorrow.”

“Excellent, next?”

“So,” Tony began, “I was offered a probie and really thought about it, especially after failing with McGee. I thought hard enough that I turned around from Morro Bay and went back to LA to interview him and offer him the job. Joseph Harris, his dad was the current Sheriff’s partner who died on the job. His instincts are good, I think we’ll turn him into an excellent agent.”

“Good deal,” Tom replied approvingly. He looked at Tony, compassion in his eyes. “You do know McGee wasn’t your fault?”

Tony sighed. “I’ll get there, sir.”

“Next?”

“Master Gunner Brad Colbert,” Tony pushed the folder over with a flourish. It was thick, full of action, awards and read like a novel.

Tom’s eyebrows went up. “No kidding?” he asked as he thumbs through it.

Tony smirked. “I got in before any of the other alphabets. He’s in with A.J. organizing the office.”

“Am I going to get hate mail?”

“Aren’t you already?”

It was true-He’d heard whining from several other alphabet agencies when they’d heard that Tony was joining Homeland. “Point. Next?”

“Kono Kalakua. Formerly of the Governor’s Task Force in Hawaii.  Most recently she was helping with the child trafficking task force in Nevada.” Another file that read like an action movie.

Tom opened the folder and flipped through a few pages. “Impressive.”

“She’s amazing. Her and Jack are going to get along like a house on fire,” Tony said, then paused. “I should be very afraid.”

Morrow laughed at the look on Tony’s face.

“And?” he saw the last folder Tony was fiddling with.

“Former Agent Meredith Brody.”

“I’ve met her,” Tom said, opening up her folder, going to the back to see details.

Tony nodded, drummed his fingers on the table. “She’s considering it. She’s flying out from Michigan.”

“She dated that rat bastard Russo,” Tom said quietly. He’d cleaned house as best he could but was relieved that Tony was going to take that job. His deputy director agreed, it would leave both of them more time to do their actual jobs. It was coming up on hurricane season and they were behind the eight-ball in relation to supplies. While in California Tony had quietly sourced some items on Tom’s wish-list and they were expecting pallets of supplies for the DC warehouses any day.

“I think she’ll stay,” Tony said. “Michigan is okay,” Ohio State alum to the bone, Tony made a face which made Tom laugh. “But I think she’s itching to get back in the saddle. Getting her here on the ground and meeting everyone will help. Pride was super helpful.”

Tom sat back and put all of the folders in a pile. “You done good, DiNozzo.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tony said quietly. “I appreciate the chance. I think we’ll do good things.”

“I know you will,” Tom said warmly and stood. Tony stood too and shook Tom’s hand.

Time to get to work.

Tony meandered down to the offices that he’d been assigned and stepped inside. Brad was bent over, seemingly in stitches and the retired Admiral was smirking from the desk he’d claimed.

“Everything okay?” he asked, taking off his suit jacket and dumping it onto the desk he was thinking of grabbing.

“Uh uh, you’re in there,” A.J. said firmly, steering Tony into a small office that’d originally planned on turning into a supply room.

“I don’t need an office,” Tony protested.

A.J. snorted. “What if one of us wants a one on one with you. Can’t do that in a bullpen.”

Tony acknowledged that maybe A.J. was right. “I just want people to know that I’ll be working with them,” he murmured. He walked around the desk and sat down. The computer was set up already and the tech had put the Ohio State logo as the background.

“DiNozzo,” A.J.’s voice was serious. “Your reputation proceeds you. Everybody knows that you’re a rabid Ohio State grad, that you are like a bulldog when you get your teeth in a case, you’ve got excellent instincts and can make connections no one else can, and that you’re compassionate. You’re also a goof ball and apparently like gluing people’s fingers to their keyboards.”

Tony laughed.

“He’d better not!” Colbert shouted, “The keyboards are sensitive and glue will ruin them.”

“Which reminds me, we need to get a tech up here,” Tony said, resolutely not remembering McGee.

“Don’t bother. Apparently Colbert is a computer savant. He set up all of our computers, networked them, secured them from the outside network and a dozen other things that I didn’t understand.”

“Huh,” Tony said. “Bonus.”

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Agent DiNozzo?” a feminine voice asked and Tony popped to his feet.

“Kono!” he called and came out, holding his hand. “You found us!”

Kono Kalakua smiled at him and shook it briskly. “Nice to see you again, sir.”

“Really?” Tony asked, pained. “Please don’t sir me. You can ‘sir’ the Admiral but I’m just an agent.”

“Hey, don’t ‘sir’ me either. I’m just an agent too.”

Kono smiled. “I’ve heard ~all~ about you from Steve McGarrett.”

“It’s all lies. I mean, I’ve never put a suspect in a shark cage.”

Tony and Colbert laughed, but Kono fondly shook her head. “He’s a mess. It’s a good thing he was on our side.”

“Wait, really?” Tony asked incredulously. “I thought that was an urban legend.”

Brad held out a hand, “Brad Colbert.”

“Kono Kalakua,” she replied, shaking his hand.  Stepping back she glanced around the office.

The walls were painted a soothing shade of blue green and there were seven desks scattered around, a pile of what looked like modular walls leaning against the far wall.  There were four 48 inch monitors on the closer wall, three with a different news feed running and the fourth had the Military News Network on.  

“Okay, we’re going to need plants,” she said firmly.

The men all shrugged.

“Pick a desk,” was all Tony said, before his phone buzzed.

“DiNozzo.”

“Where in the hell is the office?” Jack barked. “This place is like a freaking maze.”

Tony laughed. “Hey Jack, I’ll send Colbert down. Where are you currently?”

“Just after the gauntlet,” she groused.

Tony looked at Brad, “She’s down by the security area. Can you get her?”

“Of course,” Brad replied, heading out.

“Remind me to add our office to the lobby listing.” Tony said to his phone, and the phone obediently parroted it back.

Kono selected a desk, closest to the window and dumped the bag she’d been carrying onto it. “Who else is coming?” she asked curiously.

“Well, we’ve got a probie. He was a deputy with the LA Sheriff’s department. Joseph Harris. Of course, Jack. Um, Dr. Jacqueline Sloane. I poached her from NCIS. I’m hoping Meredith Brody will come, she was an agent with NCIS in New Orleans. And you’ve met Brad.”

Kono nodded. “I’ve heard of Dr. Sloane. And I’ve heard the wild stories about the LA Sheriff’s department.”

“Oh, it’s all true,” Tony confirmed. “Sheriff Hollister is an old-fashioned lawman. I had the pleasure of meeting him when I was in LA. Frankly, I’d like to be him when I grow up.”

Sloane appeared at the door and smiled. “Yes, tell us all how you met him, Tony.”

“Jack,” Tony said fondly and walked over to shake her hand. She ignored it and yanked him in for a quick hug.

Stepping back, her gray eyes checking everyone out. “I think I’ve met everyone before, except you,” she said to Kono, “though you look familiar.”

“Kono Kalakua,” Kono said, liking the doctor already.

“Of course, I knew you looked familiar. I consulted on a case for 5-0 a few years ago.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kono said.

“Okay, no ‘ma’am’s’ here. Jack, or Sloane, or if you MUST be formal Agent Sloane or Dr. Sloane,” Jack replied firmly.

“Jack, do you have place to stay?” Tony asked. “I’ve got a spare room.”

“I actually have a house here that I bought years ago. I’ll be okay. I was actually going to offer a couple of my spare rooms,” she replied.  

Kono raised a hand. “I could use a room until I find a place. “

“Done,” Jack said.

“Nate and I have a place here,” Brad replied blandly and no one blinked an eye.

Tony nodded. “Okay, I’ll take Harris when he gets here. Jack, if Meredith comes can she stay with you?”

“Fine, we’ll have a sleep over and braid each other’s hair,” Jack replied sarcastically, flipping her honey colored hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, I love me a sleepover,” Kono replied, deadpan. “I’ll bring the popcorn and the nail polish.” She looked over at Jack, who smirked back and her, and they both burst out laughing.

“I knew introducing you to each other was gonna be a mistake,” Tony grumped, but he was smiling.

6 months later-

Special Agent Joseph Harris of Homeland Special Operations tried not to giggle like a little girl.

“God fucking damn it, Harris!” Colbert shouted from across the room. He’d just arrived.

Tony snorted and Joseph lost it. He began to laugh like a loon and Tony joined him. Colbert stormed over and frowned at them, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Okay, truce already.”

Tony wiped tears of laughter from the corner of his eyes. He’d watched Harris come in early and  meticulously wrap everything on Brad’s desk, including the desk, in saran wrap. Even the ultra hi-tech computer tower was wrapped up like a robot sandwich.

Brad had started the prank war. Harris didn’t seem to be able to finish a bottle of water, and both his desk and car had discarded, half full bottles. Normally it wouldn’t have been an issue but one day Brad had enough and positioned one of the bottles in a shaft of direct sunlight from the window. The refraction had generated enough heat to set the report on Harris’s desk on fire.

Joseph’s high pitched yelp of alarm had alerted the rest of the office, that and the smoke curling up and A.J. had lurched to his feet and grabbed one of the other half empty bottles and quickly extinguished the fire before the fire suppression system activated.

It had degenerated from there. When Meredith complained after getting caught in the periphery of one of the pranks, (her hair and her thumb were only green for a week) Tony had declared that it could only involve Brad and Joseph and their desk area. If someone else was affected by a prank, it ended.

“Well, thank you Baby Jesus,” Jack said with asperity. “Who had Harris?” she called and pulled out a notebook that NCIS agents habitually carried.

“You bet on us?” Colbert asked incredulously. He had pulled a large K-bar knife out and was carefully unsealing his desk area. He’d already filled his trashcan and A.J. had contributed his to the cause.

“Duh,” Jack replied with an eyeroll. “For a Marine you’re woefully innocent,” she teased.

Kono raised her hand. “I had Joey.”

“Joseph,” Harris complained. “I don’t look like a Joey. God.”

“Well, ‘Joseph’,” Kono enunciated. “I believed in you and also won 200 bucks. I’ll take you to lunch to soothe your hurt feelings.”

“Joey’s fine,” Harris replied hurriedly. “I want Ichi Ban.”

Tony was laughing so hard that his shoulders were shaking.

When the team had first been gathered, Tony had held himself back. He’d been burned by NCIS and so he’d held his heart back, trying to not get attached. But this group of men and women he’d hand-picked had proven that his instincts were still excellent.

“Ichi ban sounds excellent,” he said after he’d wiped his eyes again. He hadn’t laughed that hard in a while.

“We’ll pick some up for the team,” Kono agreed. “C’mon Joey.” She gathered her purse, smirking at Colbert as he fussed with the third trash can, already almost full of saran wrap.

“Shut up,” he said, doggedly unwrapping his stapler.

Tony’s phone rang. “DiNozzo.” He listened for a minute, grabbing a lined yellow pad and jotting down what he was hearing. “Uh huh. Yes, yes. Got it. Thanks.” He hung up. “We’ll get sushi in Alaska. Grab your go bags. A.J., call and see if we can get the ‘bus’, if not we’re going to have to fly civilian. Brad, I know you and Nate have plans so you can run it from here.”

Brad nodded in appreciation.

A.J. snorted. “She told you she’s gonna kneecap you the next time you call it that.”

It being the Lear jet that belonged to Homeland, and if they were lucky got to borrow for their trips. ‘She’ was Major Brandi Partridge, a mother to six and no-nonsense Air Force pilot. The first time Tony had found out her last name Tony had likened the team to the Partridge family and the plane as the ‘bus’.

“Nah, she loves me,” Tony assured A.J. blithely as he rummaged through his go-bag to make sure he had everything before straightening up.

A.J. and the rest of the team smiled at their team leader. He’d recruited them all, and as diverse as the team was, their common tie was DiNozzo. His unshakeable morals, his respect for the law,  his ridiculous movie knowledge and his bent sense of humor helped tie them together in unexpected ways.

“Yeah, yeah,” A.J. said, sharing an eyeroll with Jack. His desk phone rang and he picked it up, “Ops. Yeah, thanks,” he said and hung up.  “Good to go!”

Tony smothered a smile at Brad freeing the stapler and going to work on his monitor. “Use my office, Brad. Morrow sent the information there. Do the usual and we’ll call when we arrive.”

Harris slapped Brad on the shoulder, “No sushi for you!” he exclaimed cheerfully, ducking the return swat with a laugh.

“C’mon fellas, stop lollygagging and pick up the pace,” Jack barked and the men all straightened and followed her out, with Kono and Meredith trailing behind with identical smirks.

“Well call when we land, Brad,” A.J. waved and the team was gone.

Brad shook his head at his desk and moved into Tony’s office to see what was going on in Alaska.

Chapter Text

“You can’t kill him,” Jack said, her voice firm.

“Oh, pretty sure I can,” Brad replied affirmatively. He checked his vest, then took his weapon from Joseph, making sure it was loaded.

A.J. hid a smirk as he tightened the straps on his vest.

Jack huffed. “Killing him will be too quick. He needs to go to prison, Brad. The loss of his reputation and relationships will hurt more.”

Brad looked at A.J.

“We’ll give him a chance, but if he looks like a threat to Tony then you can take him out,” A.J. confirmed.  

The team behind him was composed of a mix of his team and the local PD who’d been called when the noise of breaking furniture was heard by Tony’s neighbors.

“Oooh rah,” Brad replied. “Let’s go.”

Tony jerked awake and was momentarily confused. He couldn’t move and he realized he was tied to one of his kitchen chairs. That and his head hurt, a lot.

“Finally awake?”

Oh, right. Tony remembered opening his door and turning to drop his keys before getting hit on the back of his head. Hence the raging headache.

Vance’s sarcasm wiped away the cobwebs with a shot of adrenaline. Looking around Tony could only marvel at the damage. Apparently while Tony was unconscious, Vance had vented his spleen by destroying Tony’s condo. His mother’s piano was in pieces, the case drunkenly leaning onto the carpet with snapped strings poking out and the rage and sorrow made Tony light-headed. Or that may have been the concussion.

“What do you want, Vance?” His head snapped back as Vance punched him and he saw actual starbursts.

“I want you dead, DiNozzo. I’ll warn you, I always get what I want,” the man hissed.

Tony licked the blood off of his lips. “Stealing another man’s identity is against the law, Tyler.”

“Shut up!” Vance shouted. “Hetty warned me that you knew and you set her agents on me. It’s going to ruin my life!”

“Not my problem,” Tony smarted off, and watched as the man lost his mind again and had taken a broken leg of his piano and was beating it in a rage, some of the intact keys and wires clanging discordantly. He stiffened when the man straightened and looked at him, the piano leg in his hand, and Tony’s death in his eyes.  

Brad checked behind him and the array of agents and police and nodded. He raised his boot and rammed it home.

To complete the destruction of Tony’s home, his door crashed open in a wooden shrapnel laden burst and shouts of, “Federal Agents! Put the weapon down! On your knees, get on your knees!”

Vance either didn’t care or was beyond listening because he pulled his service weapon and the sound of a gunshot made Tony flinch. But it wasn’t him that was hit, Vance staggered backwards and fell onto the shards of the piano, blood streaming from his shoulder.

Brad swept up and grabbed Vance’s gun, ejecting the clip and clearing it before handing it off to Kono while Jack and Meredith had fallen to their knees to check Tony over.

“You look like hammered shit,” Jack chided, ignoring the swearing and A.J. reading Vance his rights while Brad roughly levered the injured man off of the remains of the piano. Joseph and the other law enforcement flowed through the rest of Tony’s condo with calls of ‘clear!’ making sure there were no other threats.

“Well, I’ve had a bad evening,” Tony replied dryly, wincing as she ran her hands gently over his head.

“Bad bump,” she murmured. “Let me see your eyes, Tony.

Meredith got up, “We need medics for two, right goddamned now!” she barked towards the doorway.

Tony chuckled as the sound of radios crescendoed. “How did you know?”

“You’ll have to ask Brad,” Meredith replied and then there was a flurry of people and medics and Tony gratefully passed out.

When he swam to the surface, the sound of Neil Diamond and clicking computer keys made him relax. He knew it was Brad.  “Really, Brad? Neil Diamond?”

Brad smirked. “‘Love on the Rocks’ for the pretty princess seemed apropos.”

Tony laughed, then moaned as the beating drums in his head and his sore body screamed at him. He could hear Brad calling for a nurse and after a few extremely painful minutes Tony was settled and the pain in his body and head was a low-level murmur of background noise for the moment.

A familiar face came in the door and Tony smiled. “Wolverine!”

“Buckeye,” was returned dryly.

Brad stood and held out his hand. “Brad Colbert, I’m on Tony’s team.”

“Dr. Brad Pitt,”

“No relation!” Tony piped up, causing the doc to smile.

“I’m Tony’s doctor,” he finished.

Brad nodded, “I can leave.”

Tony very gingerly shook his head. “It’s fine. “

The doctor then stared a Tony for a long moment, until Tony sighed. “Gimme a break, Wolverine.”

“Remember what I said last time you were in my tender care?” Pitt replied tartly. “You have the thickest file of ~any~ of my patients!”

Brad snorted as Tony sighed. “It wasn’t my fault this time,  I didn’t think a director of an intelligence agency was going to go off of the rails.”

Pitt pursed his lips. “Well, this time you were a lucky son of a bitch. You have no broken ribs, though it may feel like it. Your right ulna and radius are fractured, probably when you tried to defend yourself.”

Tony frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

“Which confirms to me that you have a grade 3 concussion, which I’m sure you already knew. However, you can’t keep getting hit in the head, Tony. You are going to end up with problems with balance, speech, depression or even Parkinson’s or Alzheimers. You told me this was a ~desk job~!”

Tony swallowed hard. He’d taken health courses in college and played football , he knew the danger of accumulative concussions that Brad was laying out so starkly. “I know, Brad. I truly have been more careful, this came out of the blue.”

“An orderly will be here in 15 minutes to take you to get your cast. Don’t be a baby about the wheelchair,” Pitt snapped and strode from the room.

“Wow, he’s a bastard,” Brad said admiringly.

Tony snorted, “Shut up. I told you he saved my life, right?”

The other man nodded. His phone buzzed and he rapidly tapped a message. “Nate says he’s glad you’re okay.”

“Tell him thanks,” Tony replied wryly. The i.v. pulled slightly and he made a face. “I need a cappuccino.”

Noise in the hallway preceded the door opening again and A.J. and the rest of the team trooped in.

“Hey, you look marginally better,” Jack said cheerfully.

“Gee, thanks,” Tony pouted. He knew what he looked like.  “What happened to Vance?”

Joseph was peering at the machines. “Well, SECNAV told me to tell you that he was fired.”

Everybody chuckled. The man was more than fired-he was currently in the brig on the Naval Station, awaiting a court date for attempted murder, fraud, identity theft and a whole host of other charges. Vance wasn’t getting bail, A.J. had made sure of that.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” the man in the hospital bed replied sarcastically.

Jack glanced over at A.J. who nodded.

“Tony, just for your information, it wasn’t your fault. He conned ~everyone~ for over 25 years. He even conned his wife! ~You~, were the ~only~ person who figured it out. You know he passed every routine and deep background check,” Jack told him emphatically.

“I can’t say I believe ~no one~ caught it. It wasn’t even hidden that deep,” Tony mused. “In between his ravings Vance said that Hetty warned him that I was looking. So at least one person knew, and of course there are more people who were involved in Super Soldier program.”

“What Super Soldier program?” A.J. asked mildly. Everyone was taken aback.

Tony grimaced, “Ah, I didn’t mention that?”

Kono crossed her arms and frowned at him. “How very Marvel of you. Why don’t you fill us in, Tony.”

At everyone’s expectant face, Tony proceeded to tell them about Operation Frankenstein, Brad and A.J. were livid and everyone else was horrified when he told them the details of the experiments on service members and how it had caused the deaths of good men.

“This is what happens when I compromise. I should have killed him when I had the chance,” Brad complained, making Joey snort a laugh.

“No, you shouldn’t have, I’m telling you, the humiliation and loss of his reputation will damage him more,” Jack told him with asperity.

“I don’t know,” Meredith threw in thoughtfully, “A couple of more gunshot wounds wouldn’t have precluded him going to prison.” Brad held his fist out and Meredith bumped it cheerfully.

Tony snorted and the rest of them, minus an exasperated Jack, laughed aloud.

A few days later Tony was back in his newly cleaned, somewhat repaired and piano-less condo, still on convalescent leave which mean Jack and Brad were hovering like overly large nannies.

“Seriously, you guys can go home,” he said from his perch on his comfortable couch. Within reach on the coffee table there was a line-up of meds, two bottles of water and his laptop. Unfortunately, the concussion was still causing a bitching headache, which precluded Tony using his laptop, or even watching tv. He was going to go nuts. Tony scratched inside of his cast as far as his finger would reach. He ~hated~ having a cast.

“Ha, no,” Jack said as she swept his kitchen of some broken glass she’d found. “With what you told us we’re making sure you’re not gonna be a target.”

Tony sighed gustily and leaned back, closing his eyes. “Hey, by the way, how did you guys know?” he asked after a minute.

Brad smirked. “Nosy neighbors. Specifically, your downstairs neighbor.”

“Coach Jansen?” Tony asked, “She’s roped me into teaching bball at the local Boys and Girls Club when my schedule allows. She’s a Marine widow.”

“I know,” Brad replied, “Her husband served with Nate and I during the OIF.”

“Huh, I’ll have to make her some tiramisu in thanks,” he said, then almost clocked himself in the face when he tried to scratch his cheek. “Damn it.”

A knock at the door made Tony tense (ow ow ow) and Jack and Brad go on alert. Jack fell back to stand beside Tony and Brad looked out the peephole before opening the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked the man.

“Who are you?” Gibbs demanded.

Brad looked down his nose at former Gunnery Sgt. Gibbs,  

“What do you want?” Brad replied tersely.

Gibbs eyed the large blond agent and realized he recognized him. “Master Gunner Colbert. May I see Tony?”

Tony was stunned silent, and Colbert said, “I’ll see if he’s available for visitors,” before closing the door in Gibbs’ face.  Jack and Tony exchanged a long look before he nodded, and Brad stepped back to let the silver haired man in.

“DiNozzo, hey Sloane,” Gibbs greeted genially.

“Jethro,” Jack replied evenly.

“Gibbs, what are you doing here?” Tony asked, finally finding his voice of the shock of seeing his former boss.

Gibbs looked briefly uncomfortable. “I’d heard what happened and wanted to see how you were.” He gestured to Tony’s bruised face. “Got hit in the head again, I see. Did Pitt shit a brick?”

Tony laughed a little because the level of familiarity was bittersweet. Memories of the two of them working together at NCIS, before everything fell apart.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He sure did. You didn’t answer my question.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Gibbs looked around. “I have to check on my team, don’t I?”

“Your team?” Tony exploded, jerking up as if to stand. “You don’t have a fucking TEAM ANYMORE, GIBBS!” he shouted.

“Whoa whoa whoa! ” Jack said in alarm, arms spread, trying to hold him down.

“The team that you ~fucked~ by lying to everyone about Ziva and how your blinders about women ruined Abby and let a spy within ~our team~,” Tony bit out scathingly before he gasped in pain at his sudden movement.

Brad stepped between the two men, “Annd, you’re done. Time to leave Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs. You’ve overstayed your welcome.” He shepherded the retired Marine through the inner hallway and out the door into the apartment hallway.

“Colbert,” Gibbs said before Brad shut the door. “Tell him…”

Brad shook his head. “Whatever you wanted to say, it’s too late now. Too many people have been destroyed by your actions. Maybe you should think about why that is,” he said and firmly shut the door in Gibbs’ face.

Tony had covered his face with his good hand, panting from the exertion that had also exacerbated his headache. “Fuck.”

“So,” Jack began, “Have you thought about therapy?”

Tony laughed roughly and closed his eyes. “Oh my friend, Tom has already sent me to all of the therapy.”

“Do you think they can come here?”

“I’m not sure staying here is safe,” Brad interjected as he held up a bug.

Jack’s face went blank and Tony opened his eyes. “Fuck me. Let me grab a bag.”

Tony watched from inside of Brad’s SUV as Jack and Brad checked over the vehicle, Brad using his phone as some kind of bug detector before both of them slid into the vehicle.

Brad started the car and pulled out of Tony’s parking lot, face grim as Jack turned to face Tony who was ensconced in the backseat with pillows to brace his ribs and injured arm. “Where to, Tony?”

Tony made a face. “I have two safe houses relatively close for shit like this, but if we’re being watched and I’m thinking we are, let’s go to the office. That way we can brief the team and switch vehicles.” He paused, chewing his lip. “We’re going to have to ask for help with this. I know too much and now all of you are at risk.”

“What about Nate?” Brad asked evenly.

Tony shook his head, “Nate is too famous, it would bring unwanted attention if something happened to him. They’re trying to fly under the radar.”

“But warn him anyway,” Jack interjected. “Does he carry?”

Brad shook his head, “Don’t worry, he will now.”

“I think it’s Hetty,” Tony blurted out. “She’s hiding more than the Super soldiers. There’s a lot more I haven’t…”

Jack turned to stare at Tony. “More that you haven’t told us? Tony, we understand levels of secrecy. We’re ~from~ the government.”

Tony choked back a laugh. “I didn’t say anything because I was sure someone had oversight, but now I’m thinking that no one was home when the kids were playing the mature rated video games.”

With a squeal of wheels, Brad turned into the parking lot and as they pulled up to the security station beneath their building Brad leaned out the window. “White castle, white castle, white castle.”

The security guard’s face went grim and he slammed his hand on a button, making the gates slam down behind them and the repelling bollards rise.

“Jesus Brad, a little overkill?” Tony protested weakly.

“Nope,” Brad said and parked the SUV into their assigned space and got out, his sidearm in his hand. He checked out the immediate area and nodded for Jack and Tony. Both got out and Jack hefted Tony’s bag and they headed to elevator. Once inside Tony sagged and Brad grabbed him.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Yeah, just exhausted.”

"He hasn't eaten," Brad tattled. Tony flipped him off with his good hand. 

"We'll get sandwiches from the cafeteria," Jack said.

Brad checked his phone, “The Director isn’t here but the rest of the team is. We’ll be covered.”

As the elevator rose, Tony sighed. “I wanna know when this became a case of espionage and treason when I’m pretty sure it started out as me leaving a dysfunctional NCIS.”

“Your fault that you’re as smart as you are pretty,” Jack replied cheerfully.

Brad smirked, “Still not as pretty as Nate.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Tony agreed with the first smile he’d had all day.

“You know you can come over, anytime,” Brad teased back and Jack barked a laugh at the blush on Tony’s cheeks. The other man knew that Tony had a crush on Nate’s brain, (and privately, his pretty face.) Nate and Tony had spent many a night debating policy while the team played cards.

The elevator doors opened and their team stood there in varying degrees of worry. Everyone had their sidearms on and as a team they whisked Tony into their offices and locked it down. Safe inside, the rest of the building on lockdown while Brad updated the scene commander with why he’d called a White Castle.

“Well, this is a clusterfuck,” Tony grumped as he sank into his chair. He frowned at Meredith as she shook a couple of painkillers into her palm and handed them and a bottle of water to him. “I’m fine.” She then handed him an energy bar.

“You’re lying, Boss,” their youngest team member poked cheerfully. “You’ve got that line between your eyebrows that says you’re hurting.” Joseph grinned angelically at Tony’s scowl.

Tony sighed and took his pills, draining half of the bottle of water in one go, then held the energy bar for Joseph to open before taking a bite, chewing and swallowing. “There, are you all happy now?”

“Blissfully,” Kono said, deadpan, making Joseph snicker.

Jack’s phone buzzed and she looked up, “Hey, Nell just texted that Hetty’s missing.”

“Missing? Or gone off of the range looking for me?” Tony riposted.

“Ask her when the last time they knew where she physically was,” Brad ordered.

Jack’s fingers tapped and they waited until it buzzed. “Two days ago. She said she was taking personal time.”

“She’s in the building,” Tony, Brad, A.J. and Jack said together. The rest of the team goggled at them.

“Well, fuck me.” Tony leaned back in his chair while the team performed a complete search of the offices for anything out of the ordinary, up to and including pulling the ceiling tiles down to search the void above the offices.

He got up and went into his office and opened the safe, removing a cell phone and closing the door. He sat down and pressed call.

“Morrow.”

“Director, we’re in White Castle protocol after my attack. We think Operations Manager Hetty Lange was working with Vance, who’s now in a cell at the Navy Yard. We believe that Ms. Lange is in the building, my team has our office in lockdown as well. However we can’t hole up here forever. I want your permission to call in Force Protection to search the building for her.”

There was silence before Morrow sighed. “Well hell, DiNozzo. Permission granted. I’ll let my Deputy know. Stay safe and don’t do anything dumb.”

“Too late,” Tony replied wryly, ending the call. “Brad, call MCFP. The Director has given permission to deploy them in the search for Hetty.”

“Yes, sir,” Brad replied briskly.

“Jack, call building security and let them know what we suspect, and that Force Protection will be on scene in less than ten.”

“On it,” Jack said and dialed security from her desk phone.

Tony stood and walked to the door of his office, “A.J., you’ll take Brad, Kono and Joseph to help with the search, I’ve promised the Director that I’ll stay here. Jack, Meredith and I will hold down the fort.”

“Tony, I know Hetty and the way she thinks,” Jack pointed out, “Keep Joey here instead. Nothing against you, pal,” she apologized to Joseph, “but Hetty is a former spy and A.J. and I have worked with her before.”

“Not offended,” Joseph waved off her apology, “Meredith and I can handle it.”

“Also, just because I have a cast doesn’t mean I can’t shoot,” Tony interjected.

“Yes, yes, you can outshoot everyone but Brad with your left hand, but I’d like to keep you here ~safe~, thank you very much.” Jack replied tartly.  She levered him out of his office chair and settled him on the plush loveseat he had in his office that he sometimes stole naps on.

While she fussed, Meredith sat at Tony’s desk and proceeded to request security stills to be sent to their computer.  Brad was checking his phone and A.J. was checking floor schematics.  

Brad’s phone chimed. “Force Protection is on scene, I’m going to head down with Kono. Jack, A.J. meet the second squad on the roof.” He then looked at Tony, a bit abashed that he’d taken over but Tony rolled his hand.

“You’ve got it. Be safe.”

Meredith was tapping on the tablet that Kono had handed over, going through the security stills of everyone who’d entered the building in the past couple of days.

“How tall is she again?”

Tony made a face, “Um, she’s very short Maybe 4’10”, she has hypopituitary dwarfism.”

“You’d think she’d stand out,” Meredith grumbled.

“You worked undercover,” Joey pointed out. “How would you infiltrate as a really short, older white woman?” He sat on the corner of Meredith’s desk.

“You tell me,” Tony replied, always willing to teach his team something new.

Joey made a face. “Aw, man. C’mon. You know I have no frame of reference.”

“And I do?” Tony replied with humor in his voice. “Seriously though, where would you see a short woman?”

“Service department, food services, janitorial services, computer tech,” Meredith counted off on her fingers. “I need to trot down to personnel. They instituted new privacy laws which included keeping everything in files and only the bare minimum on the servers.”

“She won’t have a file, she’ll have doctored a current one. What’s the name of that gal in purchasing? Lia, Lina?”

Joey snapped his fingers, “The really sweet one? Alina Michaelson. I always ask for her when we’re requisitioning our body armor. Oh SHIT. That bitch didn’t kill her?”

Tony picked up his phone and pressed a number, then put it on speaker. “Purchasing! You need ‘em, we supply ‘em.”

“Dottie, how are you, my lovely?” Tony asked.

Dottie, every part of 65 just laughed. “Director DiNozzo I heard you were injured. Are you alright?”

“Ugh, just a cast and mild concussion,” Tony replied. “You know the drill.”

“I do indeed. What can I do for you?”

“Well, Joey was asking if Alina was in today. Since we’re in lockdown he was gonna bring her some cookies.”

Joey was seriously taken aback, how in the hell had his boss known he’d drop off cookies for Alina and the people in purchasing? I mean, he did but he thought he was flying under the radar.

“Oh, that poor girl. She was riding her bike Saturday morning when she was hit by a car.”

“I am so sorry. What hospital is she at? We’ll send flowers,” Tony replied sincerely even as Meredith rapidly tapped on her computer, going through the various security cameras that covered the entrances. Tony finished the conversation and pointed at Meredith. “Check vendors in the last 48 hours.”

“You don’t think she’s trying to be Alina?” Joey asked in confusion.

“I think it was her first plan, but not now. Text Brad to check the vendors on the ground floor and work his way up.”

Tony got up and pulled his weapon out, before sighing and handed it to Joey to check.

Meredith had gotten to her feet, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Tony took the gun back and slid it into his sling to hide it. “We’re starting on the top floor.”

“Not even on a bet. You’re going to lie down on your couch and rest,” Meredith snapped. “You are seriously not in any condition to be running around the building.”

Tony made a face, knowing Meredith was right, he could feel his jaw starting to swell and he felt like he’d had a beat down. He knew he needed an icepack or he was going to be eating through a straw.

“Ugh, fine,” he growled unhappily.  Tony winced as he dropped onto the couch and slowly levered himself down, glad that he’d had the foresight to pick one that was low to the ground.  He swung his feet up, and sagged into the soft cushions, his head-ache throbbed to the beat of his heart. As he took a deep breath and got settled, his eye caught something that was out of place, and he narrowed his eyes before he sucked in a breath. 

“Oh, shit. Meredith, we need to evac, right the fuck now!”

Meredith crashed into the doorframe, “What?”

Tony gritted his teeth and got up as fast as possible. “Bomb.”

“Joey, come and get Tony, I’ll alert the team,” she barked before turning around. A rapid knock made her dash to the door and fling it open. She could hear Joey and Tony exchange terse words behind her and was relieved beyond measure to see A.J. in the doorway.

“Mer..” he began but she held up a hand.

“Bomb in Tony’s office. We need to evacuate.”

A.J. opened his mouth but Kono and Brad appeared behind him. “Bomb in Tony’s office.”

Kono cursed and shoved by, “A.J., Brad, with me,” she ordered, “Tony, go!”

Tony turned to watch Kono, “No, Kono, we need to evacuate.”

She got low and looked the bomb over professionally, then moved as Brad levered his large frame to eyeball it as well. “It won’t matter, we don’t have much time. A.J., I’m calling McGarrett, he’s the only person I know that’s successfully disarmed home made bombs like this.” She yanked Tony’s landline over to her and dialed a number from memory.

Tony looked at Joseph, who was still bracing Tony, his pulse thrumming wildly in his neck. “Joey, go. You have your mom.” He looked up at Brad, “You too, Colbert. You have Nate waiting for you.”

Joey shook his head and Brad shot Tony a look, even as a voice answered tersely over the speaker,

“McGarrett.”

“Steve, it’s Kono. I have a bomb in front of me and not enough time to evac.”

There was silence and Steve started snapping out questions even as Brad grabbed his tool kit from his desk and got back onto the floor beside Kono. Meredith was in the main office, ordering the evacuation and Tony, well, Tony’s heart was in his mouth and all he could do was have faith in his people because failure was not an option.

“Wait, where’s Jack?” he asked, realizing his acerbic second in command wasn’t in the office with them.

A.J. raised an eyebrow at Tony but kept his attention on Brad and Kono as they described the bomb and received detailed instructions from half a world away.

“We found Hettie and Jack took custody with the Homeland Security team.”

“Working in the mail room?” Tony asked quietly.

“Your freaky 6^th sense,” A.J. complained, “Yes. Mail room.”

Over the phone came, “Okay, now the black wire,” Steve ordered firmly, and there was a last quiet ‘snip’ and to everyone’s relief, the bomb went inert.

“Thanks, Steve,” Kono said quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Steve replied warmly. “DiNozzo better be treating you right.”

“Hey!” Tony called indignantly.

A.J. chuckled even as Kono rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a great team, McGarrett.”

Steve chuckled on his end. “A Recon Marine, a SEAL, a county mountie and a handful of NCIS agents. I guess it could be worse.”

Tony sighed even as the rest of the team laughed.

“Thanks for the assist, McGarrett,” Tony replied firmly. He made a hang up motion and Kono gleefully ended the call in the middle of Steve talking.

“Security is headed up to collect the evidence. They requested for us to leave it ‘in situ’,” Meredith reported, with a giant eyeroll.

“Like we haven’t worked for law enforcement or something,” Joey bitched quietly.

“Or handled evidence,” Kono agreed.

Tony snorted. “Brad, I assume you took photos already so it’s fine. Also, please have Security and Force Protection look for the same in rest of the building.”

“Jack is already on it.  She said that Lange has already confessed but since she trusted the woman as far she could throw her she suggested that that all of the offices should be checked.”

“That bitch,” Tony sighed.

Brad exchanged a look with Meredith and Tony guess he looked bad because Brad said, “I’m taking Tony home with me.”

A.J. nodded, “I’ll text you updates. I’m going to talk to Hetty and see if I can get anything more out of her.”

Tony turned, his exhaustion and pain causing a dizzy after image that made his stomach roil. “Be careful.”

“He’s going down!” was the last thing Tony heard.

Tony woke slowly, his head hurting but not overbearingly. He tried to groggily sit up but was hampered by his cast and an i.v. line he didn’t remember getting. And his mouth tasted like the bottom of a fish tank.

“Ugh.”

“Hey, you’re awake!”

Tony squinted but the man in the doorway stayed the same. “Nate?”

Nate laughed and came into the room, professionally eyeing the almost empty i.v. bag. “Yeah, you passed out after the exciting time at Homeland.”

“Ugh,” Tony groaned again as memories of, previous day? rushed in. “Did I hallucinate that Lange was caught and there was a bomb under my chair?”

“Unfortunately, not a hallucination,” Nate replied dryly, deftly removing the i.v. line from Tony’s arm and putting a Batman bandaid on the needlemark. “Okay, truth time. How do you feel, 5 being the top of your game and 1, the bottom of your shoe.”

Tony thought it over, taking a sip of water that Nate offered him. “Two and three quarters?”

“How’s your head?”

“Meh, not as terrible as it’s been. I’ll call it an honest three.”

“Well, that’s an improvement, at least. Are you hungry? Brad said you’ve not felt like eating much.”

“I would kill for some pasta,” Tony said honestly, “But I really need the head.”

Nate helped him to the door and after being satisfied that Tony wouldn’t faceplant into the toilet, left him to get food ready.

Tony peed for something like forever, did a Navy wash, brushed his teeth and felt 85% better about life. His hair was a lost cause until he got a comb or had a shower but he finger combed it before he stepped back into the bedroom. His nose led him to the kitchen where Nate was putting together what looked like a quick spag bowl. He realized then that they were in one of his safe houses in Virginia.

Tony had set up the safe house years ago and knew the kitchen pretty well. He maneuvered around Nate to get himself some coffee, hitting the fridge for creamer before he settled at the island and sipped.

“What day is it?” he asked.

“It’s about 1500 the day after the ridiculousness at Homeland,” Nate said evenly.

Tony hummed, “Are you pissed that I recruited Brad and he had to help disarm a bomb?”

Nate shot him a look, “Don’t be an idiot. I’m pissed that the head of a federal law enforcement agency fell through our much-vaunted background checks. I’m pissed that such a well decorated former agent let her petty grievances propel her around the bend. If that bomb had gone off, how many innocent people would have died? What if we assumed it was a terrorist act? What kind of operations might have sprung off of that? Attacks on another country? A new war?”

Tony made a face because every point of Nate’s rant was on the money.

“Thank God you’re so fucking brilliant,” Nate continued as he mixed sauce into the pasta, not seeing Tony’s face. “We were going to approach you, you know. After you left NCIS.”

“CNAS?” Tony asked incredulously. “You’re filled with brainiacs there. I’d never fit in.”

Nate turned around to stare at Tony. “Tony, I wasn’t lying. You are brilliant. You make intuitive leaps that no one can figure out but you’re always right on the money. Your vast network of law enforcement is invaluable, and your people smarts are incredible. You would’ve been a valuable addition to CNAS, Tom was sincerely bummed when you went to Homeland.”

Dumbfounded, all Tony could do was stare.

“And you have terrible self-esteem, I forgot,” Nate said wryly before he sprinkled some parmesan over the bowl of pasta and slid it over to Tony. “Mangia.”

Tony dug in, still astounded that people outside of law enforcement found him valuable. Then the taste of the pasta kicked it, “Oh God, this is awesome!”

“It came out of our freezer. Brad likes to cook when he has the time. He learned from his grandma and my mom.” Nate shrugged, “I can cook but it’s for fuel, not fun.”

“Whereas Brad is always for fun,” Tony teased slyly, always amused at Nate’s fair skin that showed his blush.

“Shut up and eat already.” Nate’s attention was caught by the buzz of an incoming message and he frowned at it. “Meredith is bringing your go bag. Apparently, Agents Callen and Hanna have arrived and want to interview you.”

Tony made a face. He could hear the quotation marks around the word interview. “I know they work with Hetty, but I’m an AD, who the fuck do they think they are?” Properly, it should be the FBI interviewing Tony because the suspects were all NCIS. Did Tony want to talk to the FBI? Not remotely.

Nate snorted. “Brad and A.J. are just about here. Meredith, Jack and Kono are just behind. They left Joseph at Homeland being nosy. No one else besides the team knows where you are, and we’d like to keep it that way for now.”

“Where ~is~ my phone?” Tony asked and he put down his fork and patted his pocket.

“In the microwave,” Nate said.

“Uh, okay. Oh, Farraday cage.”

“Not a brainiac,” Nate rolled his eyes. “However it’s in the microwave at work. Brad told Joseph to put in there to confuse anyone who is looking for you.”

“Ah, as if I’m holing up in the building still. Nice.” Tony continued to eat. He finished up, finished his now lukewarm coffee and accepted a bottle of water and some ibuprofen from Nate.

“Wow, I feel better though I could totally use a shower.”

“Head to the bathroom. Let me get a trashbag for your cast.”

Half an hour later, after Tony had goggled at his black eye and bruised body, he’d taken a long hot shower and felt good enough to get dressed. After a couple of dropped towels and some cursing Tony managed to get the towel around his waist and step into the bedroom where Brad was reclining on the bed.

“Jesus,” they chorused in unison, Brad at Tony’s bruising and Tony at Brad’s unexpected presence.

“Brad, please don’t tell me you’re here to babysit me coming out of the shower,” Tony asked irritably, still annoyed at the adrenaline spike. He purposely dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of box briefs one handed, ignoring Brad’s wolf whistle.

“Just making sure you’re still upright after you passed out on the office floor.”

Tony finished getting dressed and followed Brad into the kitchen, accepting a cup of coffee from Nate before realizing the rest of the team, minus Joseph were in the living room.

“You’re not getting interviewed by those cowboys from LA,” Jack announced. “Lange has been transferred to the FBI holding.”

Tony sighed as he sat down beside Meredith on the loveseat. She put an arm around his shoulder and squeezed affectionately and he leaned into her with a smile. “When does Fornell want to talk to me?”

“Yesterday,” Meredith said, rolling her eyes. “He literally asked every one of us to tell him where you were.”

“Did anyone film when he asked Brad?” Tony wondered. Nate snorted.

“No, but Brad looking down his nose when Fornell asked was hilarious,” Meredith said with a smirk.

“What I want to know is why Hetty went off the deep end and tried to kill a bunch of people,” Jack asked, “Because Tony giving up the Director’s real name and the super soldier program aren’t really related to her, even though peripherally she was aware. And her huff about breaking up Gibbs’ team seemed disingenuous.”

“Like she wondered what else I knew,” Tony said, making a face. “And it’s worth it to her to make sure I don’t talk.”

“What ~else~ could you possibly know that would crack her like an egg?” A.J. asked.

Tony shrugged, “I know a lot. I mean, I’m nosy as hell so I read everything about everything.”

“It’s personal,” Nate said. “Something personal to her.” He settled on the arm of the club chair Brad was in, sipping the tea he’d made earlier. “Something that she can’t afford to get out because it will affect her personally.”

“Oh.” Tony said softly, “Shit.”

Kono and Jack exchanged a look. “Like it could break up her team,” Kono said softly.

“It’s about Callen, isn’t it?” A.J. said more than asked.

“His born name is Grisha Aleksandrovich Nikolaev, his mother was Clara Callen, a murdered CIA operative of Romanian descent-Lange was her handler by the way, and his father is still a spy or former KGB, now FSB or a double agent, depends on what reports you read. Not much of a father though, and definitely a dick for letting Callen languish in the less than stellar California foster care system.”

“Are you sure his mother is dead?” Kono asked, “I only ask because Steve’s mother is, or was, CIA and she played dead for almost 40 years.”

Tony shot her a wan smile, “Pretty sure. But I know Lange has 'lost' a lot of people, and regularly lets people out of custody, including one Chernoff, aka Nikita Rezkinov who ‘died’ in a Siberian gulag, aka Michael Reinhardt, aka G’s father.”

Jack got to her feet, “I’ll go and talk to her about Callen. It sounds like we’re on the right track.”

Tony sent A.J. a look and the older man nodded and got to his feet as well, “I’ll come with you.”

“Jack,” Tony began, bit his lip, then looked up at her, “Let Agents Callen and Hanna observe. Then when you think the time is right, ask her what she gained from leaving Callen and his sister in foster care for so long, and where she was when his 11 year old sister drowned.”

“Tell me she wasn’t ~there~,” Jack demanded, horror on her face.

“I can’t tell you that,” Tony said softly. “And I have proof if Callen asks for it. That she knew everything going on with him and his sister, including the abuse.”

“Shades of Harry Potter,” Brad murmured.

“With her playing Dumbledore,” Tony agreed.

“Is Henrietta Lange a double agent?” Nate asked softly, the verbal bomb dropping in the room. Because it would indeed explain her actions until now.

“Okay, I’m going with you,” Tony said, getting to his feet, “I need to be the one to question her.”

“Yeah,” Jack breathed out. “We’ll need CIA too.”

“I hate those guys.” He tilted his head, “I need to make a call,” he said and disappeared into the office.

“This is one heck of a safe house,” A.J. said, “Older neighborhood with detached granny flats, explains the extra cars in practically every driveway, including this one.”

“Bland, boring and armed to the teeth,” Kono said, lifting the top of the coffee table to reveal several weapons securely attached. “Tony’s like Steve’s brain twin.”

“Look Brad, someone more paranoid than you,” Nate teased, sighing when Brad went over to inspect the coffee table curiously.

“Loaded 9 mils, a K-bar, and a sawed off and completely illegal shotgun,” Brad said as he checked it over, “Quick release but not so sensitive that if you bumped the table, it would drop them by accident. So cool!”

“Thanks, a friend in England designed them for me,” Tony said closing the office door before pulling open a cabinet and putting on a left-handed shoulder holster. He accepted a 9 mil from A.J. with a smile.

“Can we ask who you called?” Kono asked curiously.

Tony shrugged as he opened a closet door and removed a dark blue blazer and tried to slip it on before he realized it wasn’t going to go over his cast. With a muttered curse he pulled a blue, non-descript windbreaker out and put that on instead. “Nate reminded me that I have connections all over and I called someone I know in England. They are going to send me some things to the secured email, Brad. Let me know when you get it so I can read through it.” He turned to Nate, “You’ll need to stay here until dark and then head straight to CNAS. Tell Tom as much as you think he needs to know, he understands OPSEC, I’m sure.”

“Got it,” Nate said, “Be careful everyone.”

~

The observation room was someone crowded with Agents Callen and Hanna, Jack, A.J., Agent Fornell from the FBI and CIA Assistant Director Clayton Webb. He and A.J. had briefly stared at each other before greeting each other frostily.

“Well, this will be entertaining,” Fornell said. “DiNozzo always had a knack for getting information.”

Callen scoffed, “He’s never gone up against Hetty.”

Tony entered the room where Henrietta Lange was seated and cuffed to the table. A CIA Doctor and a medkit followed him in and propped himself in a corner.

Everyone could see the quick jolt of fear before she ruthlessly shut it down.

“Are these really necessary?” she asked icily.

Tony sat down, clunked his cast against the table top loudly, “Sorry about that. Still getting used to having a cast,” he said, ignoring her complaint. He put a thin manilla file on the tabletop and regarded her curiously.

“Are you familiar with the Marvel Universe?” he asked.

Hetty frowned, baffled by the question. “Something in comics books?”

Tony smiled like she was a favored student, “Yep! There’s a character in it, a woman named Natasha Romanov, or the Black Widow. Taken away from her parents as toddler, raised by the KGB to be trained as a spy and a prima ballerina as a cover. Hell of a spy, a honey trap mostly, before she met one of ours and he lured her to our side.”

During the recitation Hetty’s face became more stone-like. “How is this relevant to this situation?” she snapped.

Tony pulled a single sheet of paper out and slid it over to Hetty. “The similarities are interesting, aren’t they Hetty. Or can I call you Natasha. Oh, I’m sorry, Natalya.”

“Where did you find this?” she asked him instead of answering.

“I know people,” Tony said simply.

“I will be killed if I’m out of contact for long.”

“Nah, we don’t want you to not pay for your actions against the United States. But more personally, answer me a question.”

The glare she gave him would have scorched him if he cared. “What.”

“What were you hoping to gain by leaving Grisha and Lubova in foster care? I know you monitored them both, why did you have Amy buried under the wrong name? Why did you let Callen be abused?”

In the observation room G was completely frozen and Sam was standing behind him, offering support as his friend’s world fell apart and shattered.

“Don’t be absurd,” she scoffed. “I was a busy woman. I didn’t have time to monitor the children.”

“Busy, sure. Letting their mother be murdered, kidnapping her children, putting them into the frankly criminal foster care system and ‘accidentally’ letting one get murdered?” He pulled another sheet of paper and slid it over to her. “In your handwriting even.”

Her face didn’t show anything but Tony was a pro at reading body language. “The Comescus have long memories.”

“Yeah, which I’m kind of upset by. They were Nazis, G’s grandfather did us a favor by getting rid of the murderous, genocidal bastards. But somehow, later investigations…” Tony mused, “missed you.”

In the observation room, there was a collective gasp.

“Ah,” Clayton said softly. “It makes so much sense now. God-damn, DiNozzo, I am still pissed he wouldn’t work for us.”

“After your agent tried to kill him, do you blame him?” Jack snapped. “Also, I don’t think much of your background checks.”

“Hey, NCIS hired her too,” he snapped back.

“If you know all of the answers, why am I here?” Hetty finally said.

Tony smiled gently, “I wanted G to get the answers you denied him.”

Hetty went sheet white as her head swiveled to stare at the observation window. Her face did something complicated and she slumped sideways in her chair.

“Shit,” Tony said but the doctor was already at her side, checking her pupils and pulse.

“Stroke,” he diagnosed and the door burst open making both the CIA agent and Tony reach for their guns before they realized it was Callen, who ignored them both as he knelt by Hetty.

“Why? Why did you do this? Why not kill me outright?” he asked as he undid the cuffs and gently laid her on the floor.

“G,” Sam said quietly.

“I need to know!” G shouted at him.

Behind them Brad nipped the file that Webb had tried to surreptitiously snatch in the chaos.

“Nice try, Webb,” A.J. said smugly as he took the file over the shorter CIA agent’s head.

Jack stood by the CIA doc and watched carefully as he inserted a nasal cannula and started oxygen.

“Cal-len,” Hetty mumbled and Callen leaned forward to the woman he’d known for all his adult life.

“Hetty,” he murmured to her. “Why?”

“I..wanted you…”she trailed off and swallowed, “to be..strong.” Her left eye was drooping before both of then slid shut.

“She was going to try and turn you into a double agent, find a large enough crisis and throw you at it and then finally ruin your family, once and for all, by burning you,” Tony said quietly as her eyes closed and she went still.

“She’s gone,” the CIA doc pronounced.

G slumped back and stared sightlessly.

“Sam, he's in shock. You and Brad help get him to medical, Jack…”

“On it” she said, hovering as Brad and Sam got an almost catatonic Callen to his feet and disappeared out of the door.

The CIA doc replaced everything in the medkit and stared at the small woman on the floor. “We can’t let this get out. It will blacken the eye of almost every intelligence agency.”

“No, you’re right,” Tony said. “But luckily, we’re peons in the great wheel of intelligence. A.J. you, Webb and Fornell need to go straight to the DNI’s house and fill him in, we can let him decide what to do.”

“Yes sir,” A.J. said and proceeded to herd a complaining Webb and an amused Fornell out of the room. The CIA doc snorted and pulled a body bag out of his medkit.  Kono and Meredith helped him put Hetty's slight body inside.

“I have jurisdiction,” Tony told him, “We’ll arrange for the autopsy. Actually, I’ll see if I can get Ducky to perform it.”

The man sighed, “He’s about as impartial as we can get. Can we get the results?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tony said and almost clocked himself in the face when he was about to run an agitated hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ. I cannot WAIT until I get rid of this cast. Stupid Tyler.”

“Should I call Director Morrow or will you?” Meredith asked.

“He’s aware,” Tony said, “I made sure he was streamed in. He’ll probably meet the Three Stooges as the DNI’s residence. But you can call Ducky and have him arrange for Lange’s body to be transported. I want you with her the entire time until she arrives at NCIS, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” she said and left.

Kono went to stand by Tony and stare at the body bag. “So, this was all a vendetta by the Comescu family starting in World War II.”

“Simplified, but yeah. I’ve got someone working on that part right now.”

The CIA doc raised an eyebrow, “Your ‘ah shucks, nothing to see here’ reputation is such a lie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony demurred, making Kono laugh.

~

Months later in Romania, the Comescu compound blew in an explosion so intense that the house next door also went up, but fortunately that family had been on vacation in Constanta. Most of the Comescu family had been inside, except three school aged children who disappeared after their classes let out. Over the next little while, the rest of the extended family died in various tragic accidents.

Nikita watched as the last of the family who’d killed his beloved Clara and his daughter Amy, was hit by a minibus as they walked across a busy intersection in Paris. He owed the US government a debt of gratitude that he knew they were going to collect, at probably an uncomfortable time for him.  But now he knew that Grisha was safe, and that was more important to him than a little inconvenience.

He turned on his phone and pressed a button. “Da, it is done,” he said before he turned it off again. The rain that was plainly to blame for the minibus accident below was turning cold. It was time to go. Maybe somewhere warm.

~

G was on Venice Beach, sitting in the sand as he watched the sunset.  The entire team had been on standdown as the FBI ran a fine-toothed comb through their entire organization. Sam was on vacation with Aiden and Kamran, and he’d invited G several times but he’d declined.  After they’d been cleared, Nell and Eric were working with the NCIS teams in San Diego, while Kensi and Deeks were working with the LAPD, though Kensi wasn’t sure if it’s what she wanted to do long term.

The government had held a farce of a memorial for Hetty and then her cremated remains had been sent back to Romania to be buried with her family, who’d mysteriously died in an explosion. It was kept hush hush and classified up the wazoo.

He still couldn’t make up his mind if he was grateful to DiNozzo for exposing everything in his life to be a lie, or hate his guts for the same reason. He hadn’t seen the Homeland Assistant Director since the day Hetty had died but had felt his machinations in the background of his life.

His mother, sister and grandfather and grandmother had all been mysteriously been moved to the Los Angeles National Cemetery in Sawtelle. Their graves were all in a row with similar headstones except for his sister’s who had angel wings engraved on it.  His grandfather and mother’s names had been added to a National Government Service wall memorial in another part of the cemetery for their intelligence work, and his grandfather’s grave frequently sported stones in remembrance from obviously Jewish families in the area who knew what he’d done after the war.

Someone sat in the sand next to him and he glanced over to see his father.

“Dad.”

“Grisha, how are you holding up?” the man asked and he leaned back on his elbows. The warmth of the sand was soothing.

“I’m going to therapy,” G replied dryly. “It’s a work in progress.”

“Ah yes, the American propensity for talking to strangers about your personal demons.” Nikita watched his son as the sunset dipped into the ocean. “How about dinner?”

G stifled a sigh, “Sure. What are you hungry for?” he asked as he got to his feet and brushed sand off of his ass.

His father rolled gracefully, for a man his age, to his feet and brushed away sand with brisk movements.

“Alexandra is expecting us.” Alexandra was G’s half sister through his dad. Her and his nephew were part of the new family he was making.

Ambushed. G sighed. “Yeah, okay. It will be good to see her and Jake.”

Nikita smiled. “I also have some photos for you. They were returned to me after the investigation.”

“Really?” G asked eagerly, he only had three pictures of his family. “Returned from where?” he asked before he made a face, because it dawned on him that Hetty must have had them squirreled away somewhere, to pull them out as a treat like training a mouse with cheese.

“She no longer matters,” Nikita murmured, aware of where his son’s mind went, “Call an Uber, I have some of them on my phone that I will show you.”

“Yeah, okay,” G said. A family dinner. His life was slowly becoming normal and maybe that was okay.

~

In DC Tony was sound asleep. He was mostly healed from the attack from Vance though he still got debilitating headaches but even those were fewer and far between.  

Brad was laying on his side, watching Tony sleep the sleep of the just. He never expected to end up here, especially after the Michigan Ohio State game and its aftermath. Or when Tony had almost died of the plague.  Brad and his colleagues had universally agreed that Tony would probably die of the antibiotic resistant strain of the plague, but the Buckeye pulled it out and not only survived but thrived.  Tony had survived almost drowning, almost being blown up and a thousand other things that would have killed an unluckier man. But here he was, in Brad’s bed and in his heart. And wasn’t that a kick in the ass.

“You’re creeping me out, Dr. Pitt,” Tony said, voice gravelly from sleep, catching Brad’s attention. His eyes were still shut but there was a soft smile on his face.

Brad laughed and pressed a kiss to it. “Just thinking about the improbable way we ended up here, Dr. DiNozzo.”

“Mm, I still think I should send a singing stripper gram to Nate’s office.”   

Brad had met Nate after his Brad, and the member of Tony’s team, had been shot on a case.  Tony had gotten in Brad’s face when he’d tried to kick them out to work on Brad and he’d gotten right back into Tony’s face and still kicked them out. Eventually everyone had settled down when it was clear that Tony's teammate was going to be okay. Nate had seen something between the two of them and he’d set them up on a blind date. It surprisingly had worked.

“Nah, we’ll invite ourselves over for dinner and flirt with Brad.”

Tony huffed a laugh and opened his eyes.  “Positively Machiavellian. I approve.” His phone buzzed and he groaned before he reached over to the bedside table to grab it. He peered at it and groaned again. “There’s a break in the case.”

“Go, I’ll see you tonight.” Maybe, because if Brad had terrible hospital hours then Tony’s job could be a thousand times worse, or vice versa.

Tony pressed a kiss to Brad’s mouth, ruffled his curly hair and dodged the retaliatory swat as he dashed into the bathroom.

Laying on his back, Brad smiled. No, he’d never imagined he’d end up here.

The end-I swear

Chapter Text

“Sir, no. It’s not a good idea, sir, I’m really serious.”

Tony was puzzled because Brad was being uber serious with whomever was on the phone.  He halfway got up when there was something like a heat shimmer appeared in front of him, which resolved into the unlikely appearance of an Air Force General.

“Sorry Pitt,” the General turned to call cheerfully, before he turned to a face full of gun.  “Ah.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Tony demanded.

“Don’t shoot him, he’s mostly harmless,” Brad said resignedly from the door to the office.

“Hey! Air Force General here! Also I used to special ops, I’m plenty harmful!”

Brad rolled his eyes. “Tony, this is General Jack O’Neill of Homeworld Security, I’ve worked with his command a couple of times. Jack, Assistant Director Tony DiNozzo.” Brad was relaxed as he leaned against the door frame, arms across his chest. Tony regarded his lover for a long moment before putting the gun away.

“Nice to meet you,” Tony said as he sat down in his chair, irritably waving the General into the chair across from him. “What could you possibly need from me?”

“I understand you know most of the buried bodies and such around the government service,” Jack replied. It was an obvious test.

Tony steepled his hands in front of him and regarded the man across his desk. His mind was busy extrapolating all of the new information, now with sci-fi shading, comparing it with the information he’d read or heard about. “Project Blue Book. NORAD. Something to do with Wormhole-Extreme that I had, in fact, dismissed as fantasy a little too soon apparently.”  

Jack whistled, “You’re good. Yes, though I should have brought some paperwork for you to sign, Huh,” he patted his pockets as he trailed off.

“Dr. J sent it to my email, my printer is busily spitting it out,” Brad put in.

“Oh, good! I knew I forgot something.”

Tony sighed, “Until I sign, can you give me an idea why you’re here?”

“Oh, we have a situation that needs an outside eye of someone who can think outside of the box. Brad mentioned you and your team to Daniel. Daniel mentioned you to me.”

“Brad. Darling. Since when do you hang out with the Men in Black?”

“Only when I’m shanghaied,” Brad replied dryly. “Are you staying for dinner, Jack? I’m making four cheese Smoked Macaroni and Cheese.”

“Oooh, homemade mac and cheese? I’m in.”

Tony dropped his face in his hands. He could tell it was going to be that kind of night.