Weekend Duty - Chapter 6 - Sunday, 01:30 EST
Title: Weekend Duty
Author: SA3466996
Rating: PG-13, T
Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Genre: Gen
Pairing: None
Character: Gibbs/DiNozzo/Team
Summary: Tony went AWOL. Gibbs wants to make sure it never happens again. After ordering him to work the weekend shift, Gibbs finds out a little more about his senior field agent and Tony finds out just how big that second 'b' is. Sequel to The Onion and Word Salad. Tag to 'Boxed In'. Could also be read as a backstory for the comment "You'll do" in 'Hiatus'.
Spoilers: References to 'Boxed In', 'Mind Games' and 'Caught on Tape'.
Warnings: Minor violence, minor language.
Disclaimer: NCIS characters belong to Bellisario, CBS and Paramount. No copyright infringement intended.
Betas: CSIGeekFan, Obsessed Pam and Will.
Chapter 6 - Sunday, 01:30 EST
Gibbs, having reviewed the SWOT reports Tony had completed, had long since gone, presumably back to his basement for a shot of bourbon and maybe to work on his boat. The interview with Webb had been arranged for Sunday afternoon as the recruits were currently on a night exercise and wouldn’t be back until the morning. Tony had analysed another three files but he needed a break; his eyes sore from all the reading. It was also late, or rather it was the ‘wee hours’, as Ducky often called them, of Sunday morning.
Feeling the knowing pangs of hunger, Tony knew he had a candy bar in his drawer that would give him some much needed energy. By the time he’d gotten around to lunch he’d lost his appetite, but now his stomach was growling vociferously; roaring even. Not eating anything since leaving his apartment the previous morning tended to do that to one Anthony D DiNozzo. DiNozzos got hungry. He was also tired beyond belief.
Yawning, Tony fumbled for his keys, unlocked his desk drawer and was about to search for the candy when he saw it.
The neatly folder piece of paper that he’d put in there the day before. It stared back at him, willing him to pick it up, unfold it and unearth the secrets contained within.
He knew he shouldn’t but he had to do it. Tony desperately wanted to know what that piece of paper said; what he’d said. Biting his lower lip, Tony reached for the piece of paper, set it down on the desk in front of him and unfolded it.
After a brief hesitation, he began to read.
CONFIDENTIAL - STAFF
Assessment: Suitability for Promotion to Team Leader Status
Name: Anthony D. DiNozzo
Current Status: Senior Field Agent (Active)
Location: MCRT, Washington D.C.
Supervisory Team Leader: L. J. Gibbs
Rating Scale:
5 - Excellent
4 - Good
3 - Satisfactory
2 - Poor
1 - Unacceptable
N/A - Not applicable
General Competencies (Rating)
Leadership: 3-4
Team working: 4
Critical thinking: 4-5
Communication skills: 4
Decision making: 4
Resource Management/ budgets: 3-4
Specific Competencies (Rating)
Interview/ Interrogation Skills: 4
Investigative Skills (inc. Crime Scene Analysis/ Documentary): 4-5
Evidence and Pattern Analysis: 4
Surveillance assignments: 4
Undercover assignments: 4-5
Close protection assignments: 4
Reporting (Oral/Written): 4
Other (Legal; specialist IT; give details): N/A
Team Leader/Supervisor comments
Special Agent DiNozzo has worked in the MCRT under my direction for the past four years. Joining the team as a Junior Field Agent, Special Agent DiNozzo rose to the rank of Senior Field Agent six months ago, although he has been my second in command for just over three and a half years. When focused, Special Agent DiNozzo is completely committed and brings a unique perspective to any investigation. He has a sharp mind, excellent attention to detail and has, on a number of occasions, spotted the crucial link that has broken a difficult case. His crime scene skills, reporting and particularly his close protection and undercover work are first class.
Special Agent DiNozzo can, at times, lack discipline. He has led the team on several occasions and has always acted professionally and competently during those cases. However, he needs to have greater confidence in his own decision-making when it comes to leading his team members. I believe this will come with time.
Recommendation: Not recommended.
I have no doubts at all that Special Agent DiNozzo will make a strong team leader in the future. However, he needs time to develop his leadership role and therefore I am not recommending him for promotion at this stage.
Name of Assessor: L. J. Gibbs
Date: October 4, 2005
Had he read that right? Quickly scanning the form again to confirm the words he thought he’d seen, his immediate reaction was one of shock. Gibbs hadn’t recommended him for promotion. Bastard. What had he done wrong? Even though he’d worked his ass off it still wasn’t good enough... he’d never be good enough. His father was right. Anthony DiNozzo let people down. He’d let Gibbs down, and he hated letting Gibbs down.
Special Agent DiNozzo can, at times, lack discipline.
Why did everything have to come down to that? Sure, it was fair and he knew how much his finely crafted joker act pissed Gibbs, but he also knew how much his Boss valued it too. Many an unsuspecting perp had bought into his idiocy act; dismissed him; put him down; proceeded to overplay their hand only to end up being snared by ‘dumb DiNozzo’ and left wondering how the ‘idiot boy with the gregarious grin’ had managed to get one over on them. It was an art form; a precarious balance of knowing just how much to push, and when to pull back. Sometimes, especially with the team, he went just that little bit too far... and Gibbs would respond with one of his usual calming methods. However, his goofing off act was a defining part of him; also a form of stress relief, and he wasn’t going to be able to do much about it overnight. Not tonight anyway.
Why did it always come down to that?
Lack of discipline.
Just as he was about to screw the form into a little ball and throw it in the trash, a little voice in his head stopped him.
Anthony, it’s not that bad. Look at your ratings.
His ratings were really good. Gibbs wasn’t one for giving praise; he preferred the stick rather than the carrot approach to incentivising his team. It worked too. Six months in, with a plethora of 3s and N/As after his first performance review as a probationary agent, he’d seriously doubted he’d ever get a ‘3-4’ let alone a ‘4-5’. He knew he’d probably never get that elusive ‘5’. Gibbs held that power over him daily and it was what kept him on his toes, but he was damned if he was going to be defeatist. He’d frickin’ well try - even if he had to die before he got a ‘5’.
Something bugged him about the whole thing though. Why had Gibbs completed a promotion assessment form on him? Tony hadn’t even put in for a promotion. Why the hell would he? He’d only been senior field agent for six months back then. Surely he couldn’t be expected to go from senior field agent to team leader in six months... could he? That was unheard off.
Could he be a team leader? Did he want to be a team leader? Being a team leader meant he’d have to boss people about; drink seventeen cups of coffee a day; whack his people on the back of the head; get three ex-wives; stop renting his apartment and buy a house with a basement. That didn’t sound too bad... apart from the ‘ex-wives’ and ‘buy a house with a basement’ bit.
On the other hand, being a team leader also meant more ass kissing; umpteen meetings; conferences; a lot more work and shouldering all the responsibility. He’d have responsibility for all the agents on his team.
Tony was beginning to understand that responsibility now, especially towards McGee and even Ziva to some extent. It wasn’t the same as having someone’s back, six, whatever people called it. It was the responsibility of knowing when to put someone in a position where you’d have to have their back; it was the responsibility that came with knowing that you could send an agent into a seemingly innocent situation which could easily end up doing a ‘180’.
Running a hand across his face and easing the ache behind his tired eyes, Tony was also beginning to shoulder the weight of that responsibility; realising a little more how, maybe, Gibbs felt when he sent ‘them’ out on seemingly innocent situations. Gibbs seemed to bear that burden in his stride. Years of marine training, Tony mused.
It was a responsibility that Tony hadn’t handled very well a few months back. Kate had been shot and he hadn’t been able to stop it. He’d also sent Paula to call Gibbs only for her to end up being kidnapped. But he hadn’t killed Kate and he hadn’t kidnapped Paula. Those things hadn’t been his fault.
He knew that.
He knew that now.
Even though the burden of responsibility had and continued to weigh heavily on his shoulders, he was beginning to handle it more productively.
He needs to have greater confidence in his own decision-making when it comes to leading his team members.
Gibbs had left him in charge of the scene and he’d sent Paula back to the truck on her own. Back in the squad room, he’d agonised over whether he’d made the right decision. Looking at it cold, now, he knew it had been the right decision. But that wasn’t the point. He needed to be confident... have confidence... in the decisions he made before he gave an order.
DiNozzo can, at times, lack discipline.
It always came down to his lack of discipline. Yawning loudly, Tony leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head. His eyes closed for just a brief moment...
---------
Looking out of the car window, Tony surveyed the passing streets. It was late but not dark; the orange glow of the street lights never allowing complete darkness in the city. His partner, Mike, was subdued and not sparring verbally with him as they made their way back to Baltimore from D.C., so he’d filled the journey with references of movie road trips. He was in the middle of one when Mike finally interrupted his monologue.
“Tony,” Mike interjected, “next time you want to sound off at ‘Metro’s main man’, check the Captain hasn’t just walked in with a slippery Fed in tow. I don’t like spending my Friday night transferring a suspect... the suspect that we have just tailed day and night for two very long weeks, I’d like to remind you... into the frickin’ FBI’s hands.”
“Hey, Collins was pissing me off with his act. You heard him, all ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ in front of the Captain and then as soon as his back is turned he’s out with the snide comments, mislaid messages and personal punches.” Tony’s right hand reflexively rubbed at his gut. “Good luck to his next partner... you saw what he was doing to Greg... and no one... no one calls me a ‘useless’ wanker...”
“You are,” Mike interrupted, “a wanker that is.”
“Okay, sometimes yeah. I’ll give you that,” Tony agreed, “still doesn’t give him the right to...”
“Tony, you don’t ream out a senior detective in front of the rest of the team and not expect some redress from the guy.” Mike glanced briefly at Tony before continuing, “Besides, it shut you up before you could do any more damage. Look, Tony, you’ve got to stop this. You’re a smart guy. Collins... Collins has the best arrest record and clear up rate in Metro. He’s good at what he does, he’s...”
“An ass!”
“He’s okay. Captain pushed hard to get Metro to agree to a joint op on this one... and yes the Captain thinks the sun shines out of his ass... and so does Eleanor.”
“Ellie doesn’t think...” Tony changed his tack when Mike glanced over at him from behind the wheel. “Okay maybe she does. But she’s coming around... think she might even...”
“Drop it Tony. Jeez you never shut your frickin’ mouth, do you? No wonder...” Mike tailed off.
“What? No wonder what, Mike?”
A painful silence ensued as Tony tried to gauge what it was that Mike had been about to say but hadn’t. He could hazard a guess though and turned his head, simultaneously wiping a hand across the passenger window allowing a more intense glow of orange into the car.
“It was my wedding anniversary yesterday,” Mike said softly. “Not a big one, but Jan and I... well... we were... tonight... you know... it was supposed to be cocktails, meal, wine, a little dance, cab home, a little more wine...”
Tony closed his eyes and swallowed. “I’m sorry, Mike,” he said, turning to look at his partner.
“What the hell...” Mike braked hard and the car skidded to a stop. The sincere apology fell on deaf ears. Tony braced himself whilst following Mike’s line of vision to a young twenty something girl running out of a side street, yelling. Her T-shirt was stained deep red matching the swathes of red on her arms which she waved frantically.
He was already out of the car, half-way up to her, his weapon drawn. She was screaming but unhurt. Someone up ahead shouted ‘Gun’ and he heard Mike racing behind him, calling in for back up. In the distance he saw the shooter taking aim at the girl and he grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him. “Car... behind... Go!” Tony ordered.
“Police! Lower your weapon!” he shouted, levelling his gun at the man in the distance.
The sound of gunfire echoed throughout the cold night.
TBC...
---------
SA3 - To the LE EXPO 2009 and beyond: Part 4 - Allies?
The aroma of a reasonably strong blend of coffee softened his tension and Gibbs accepted the makeshift refill, taking in a long slow glug. “Not bad. How do you know?”
The man opposite him let his eyes drift to Cheney. “I’ve met him before.”
“I don’t think so.” Cheney huffed.
Gibbs nodded knowingly at the man who openly smirked in front of him. The stranger addressed Cheney and continued. “Two ex-wives. You can’t survive on less than 10 coffees a day. You live for your job. Your right hand man is Italian and your Probie prefers a PC to a P228... want more?”
“Actually it’s three ex-wives. At least 12 coffees. Probie’s getting better but yeah, Monteleone is Italian and I like taking the scum off the streets.” Cheney replied. “How?”
“Hmm, met you... well your doppelganger, Lieutenant Craney, a year ago. We worked a case together. He only had two ex-wives. His Probie was pretty green and Montanelli couldn’t keep his eyes off...” the Boss hesitated, “couldn’t keep his eyes off Agent Dodd.”
“Hey,” Gibbs raised his Styrofoam cup and threw the other man a soft smile. “Like to know who I’m accepting coffee from.”
“My team call me Boss.”
Cheney laughed and Gibbs snorted. “If you think I’m...”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Gibbs. Listen, I’ll tell you but...” the Boss raised a warning finger, “if either of you tell SA3 what my name is - parallel universe or not - I will hunt you down...”
“SA3?”
“His equivalent of Monteleone and DiNozzo,” Gibbs clarified for Lieutenant Cheney.
“Right... another one... and how many of these ‘parallel’ universes are there?”
“No idea,” the Boss shrugged. “McColl thinks it’s infinite.”
“So how do you get back?” Cheney asked.
“Again, no idea... slapped McColl when he started talking about worms and gates. Not a big gardener. Prefer open water myself. No point worrying though. Apparently parallel universe shifts only ever last for 42 minutes.”
Gibbs and Cheney shot each other a quick glance. “Name.”
The Boss sighed heavily. “Thought you’d forgotten about that.”
TBC...
Chapter 7 - Sunday, 04:30 EST