FIC: Something New (NCIS) Part 5/7
Title: Something New
Author:
threesquares
Rating: R (or NC-17, depending on your tolerance)
Disclaimer: I'm not Bellesario or CBS, so I don't claim to own them.
Characters/Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Genre: Slash; First Time
Warnings: Other than the saucy bits, nothing I can see
Word Count: 15,997 (kind of makes me want to write three more words)
Beta: All mistakes are mine.
Written For: 2014
tibbs_yuletide Day 02
Summary: Losing his memory, reliving his family's deaths, retiring, and returning, as well as some new arrivals in his life, have Gibbs taking a new look at his life and what he wants. Starts in summer and ends at Christmas.
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It was the day before Christmas and the morning was going to be beautiful. The cold, clear air filled his lungs with icicles.
It was early and the sound of traffic was far away. The hardy gray squirrels that lived in the sycamore scrambled on the bark of the tree and pieces of it floated down in the otherwise still neighborhood.
The sound of first his front door shutting and then the heavy metal door of his truck opening and closing, were shocking in the stillness.
The man who owned his truck before him smoked cigars, owned a dog, went to the race track. He had the truck detailed before he sold it to Gibbs and Gibbs himself had cleaned it. Despite this, when it was humid, the faint, not unpleasant, scent of tobacco and dog suffused the air of the cab when Jethro first climbed in. He even sometimes thought he smelled perfume, even more faint than the other two smells, and he smiled a little to think that there was a woman riding up here with the man and his dog. And sometimes, when he turned on the airconditioner or heater, small betting slips would spin up into the air from the vent.
It was cold and dry, though, and all those smells were mostly memory, a habit of memory. When he turned on the car, the heater, nothing came out but cold air that would soon turn warm. Rather than drive, though, Jethro sat in the cab and remembered. Remembered Lucy’s arms around his neck. And Kelly’s arms around his waist. He remembered Shannon singing Christmas carols in the kitchen this time of year.
There had been no signs or portents today. Just a day, like any other, though the team was off, for once. Today, tomorrow and another three days. Their turn, this holiday season. He sat, pretending to be waiting for the heater to start working until the heater started working. And still he sat. Remembered helping Brian carve an animal out of wood, remembered Lucytoo barking to warn him of people’s approach. Remembered that the dog never barked at Lucy, her favorite. Remembered the dog never barked at Tony.
His favorite.
Finally, he made up his mind, got out of the truck. Slammed the door harder than he needed to before ducking in the side entrance to put the boxes in the truck. He would do that much, but the rest would take Tony, so he climbed back in and flipped open his phone.
“Gibbs? What time is it?”
Gibbs checked his watch. “About 8, Tony. Wake you up?”
“Uh...yeah. Stayed up late watching movies. Figured, you know, holiday and all, I’d sleep in. What’s up? We have to go in?”
“No.”
“...”
“...”
“Gibbs?”
“Yeah. I...Tony, just...forget it. I’ll talk to you-”
“Want to pick me up? Get breakfast?”
“I don’t want to-”
“Not a problem. It’s good. I need to get up anyway. Lots to do.”
Gibbs snorted, but since this is why he called, he didn’t argue. “Okay, I’m on my way. Be there in ten.”
“Uh, okay, could be a few minutes before I can get everything together-”
“I’ll be out front whenever you’re ready.” He hung up without saying goodbye, smiling a little at the squeak of outrage he knew Tony was making right now.
Tony was waiting when he got there, hands deep in his jean pockets, though he had on a coat and scarf. Gibbs wanted to tell him to wear a hat. Didn’t.
Tony had a hard time getting up into the high cab with the brace on his left leg and eventually took the hand Gibbs offered, let himself be hauled up and over. His hand was cold and strong, but was warming already by the time Gibbs released him to put on his seatbelt.
The question Gibbs wanted to ask him, needed to ask him, hung in the air of the cab. Flashing neon to Jethro. Invisible to Tony.
But by the time they climbed back in, an hour later and full of bacon and eggs, Tony had a question of his own. “What’s in the boxes?”
Gibbs looked straight ahead, keys in the ignition but making no move to turn on the truck.
“Gibbs?”
Gibbs turned his head and met Tony’s eyes with his own. Tried to find the words.
“Jethro?”
Gibbs swallowed and his voice came out rough. “Toys.”
“Toys?”
“Toys.”
“How many?”
“A lot.” He glanced back in the truck bed. “Three big boxes worth, anyway.”
“Did you make them?”
Gibbs nodded once, curt, but didn’t look away again.
“What are you going to do with them?”
“Thought I’d take them to the hospital. There are kids who are gonna be there through Christmas.”
Tony waited for more. It was all Gibbs could do to not change the subject, not turn on the car, run Tony home. It took everything just to sit there and wait for more himself.
“Christmas is tomorrow. You going to go today?”
“Thought I might.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Kids. Christmas. Shannon. Kelly. Kids. Christmas.
“Want to do it right.” He finally managed to blurt out.
Tony nodded, starting to understand. “You could just drop them off, but you want to deliver them. You want my help...Jethro?”
Gibbs felt his shoulders relax a little, wondered what Tony saw in his face but suspected it wasn’t much. But Tony had offered, must have known or seen something. He nodded, tightened his lips and nodded. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
Started the engine. Smelled, faintly, cigar and dog and perfume. A betting slip spun out of the heater and Tony caught it.
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He couldn’t have done it without Tony. He knew the woman who ran the program, had warned her he might not have time to come in, but she hoped he would, made the arrangements anyway. She set them up in a multi-purpose room that was obviously used for meditation or chappel usually, but which was decorated now. There was a table with juice boxes and cookies and music was playing. On the day before Christmas, any diversion was welcome and there were a lot of parents and kids. Really sick kids, whose immune systems couldn’t tolerate a gathering like this, had been identified by the hospital coordinator and Gibbs had set aside presents for them. But a lot of kids came to the party, and there were kids who were chronically ill, who spent a lot of time in the hospital, but also kids who were in for routine but necessary surgery or procedures.
Tony talked with the parents and ran errands and interference for him while Gibbs sat on a small, hard, couch and talked with each kid before fishing in a box for a toy that seemed best. He had made more than he needed, would leave the rest here. One little girl, thumb in her mouth, blanket over her nose, indeterminate worn pinkish stuffed animal clutched under her arm, sat on the other side of the couch, looking at him suspiciously while her dark eyes watched the other kids. Eventually, without looking at her, he pulled out one of the small rocking cradles and placed it on the couch between them.
A young boy, seeing the boxes ran from the room and returned a few minutes later with stacks of cards clutched in his hands. Gibbs pulled out one of the larger boxes, varnished lightly with a swing lid, and held it up, motioning the boy forward. The boy thanked him shyly and immediately sat nearby on the floor to organize his cards. Gibbs didn’t recognize them, they were definitely not baseball cards, but rather each one seemed to have a cartoon character on it with a bunch of text. Tony sat next to him for a few minutes and listened as the boy talked about his cards.
The kids kept coming. But the little girl on the couch with him was now up on her knees, placing first the blanket and then the stuffed animal in the cradle and rocking it. Tony looked up at Gibbs from the floor. “Time for coffee?”
Gibbs nodded. “Wouldn’t say no.”
Tony stood up and said to the little girl, pointing at Gibbs, “Can you help him while I’m gone? You don’t have to, but he needs the help.” Tony made a sad face, like Gibbs was really incompetent. The girl smiled a little, shot a glance at Gibbs and climbed off the couch, moved the cradle down toward the end and climbed up next to him.
“That’s Ernie.” She pointed to a boy near the front. “He’s my brother. He likes cars.”
Gibbs pointed to the box. “Think there is a car in there. You want to get it for me?”
The little girl-Samantha-and her brother Ernie both helped Gibbs speed things up, retrieving toys and handing them out. Tony came back with the coffee, sitting down next to him, and gave him a muttered, “How you holding up?”
Gibbs sipped his coffee, gestured to the kids playing, no more in line. “Just about ready to go.”
Tony nodded. “I’m not very good with kids, Gibbs. You owe me for this.”
Gibbs gave him a half smile, relief that he was almost done mixing in his gut with a feeling like anticipation. It was only noon and he had already done the impossible. Leaning back, watching the kids, he turned his head to look at the younger man’s profile “You do better than you think, Tony.”
Tony didn’t meet his eyes but his lips turned up even as he brought the tiny box of grape juice to his lips. Gibbs laughed and Tony grinned as he turned his own head to meet the other man’s eyes.
“Let me just go say goodbye to Rachel-” But before Gibbs could, Samantha was back and climbing up onto the couch between them. Tony’s sharp glance did a quick Gibbs’ check, to see if he was okay with that. Samantha’s thumb came out of her mouth. She looked up at Tony, then at Gibbs.
“Are you daddies?” Before they could answer, she continued, “Those are my daddies.” She pointed to two men standing close on the other side of the room. She stuck her thumb back in her mouth, flapped her fingers in a wave. One of the men waved back, and gestured her over to him, giving Tony and Gibbs a wave as well.
When she was gone, Tony remarked. “That happens surprisingly often.”
“What, someone thinking we are a couple?”
Tony laughed. “Yeah.”
Gibbs heaved himself off of the uncomfortable sofa and held out his hand. “Well, c’mon, loverboy, let’s get out of here.” The relief at having made this step, gotten through this, made him a little playful and once Tony was up on his feet, Gibbs let his hand rest in the small of Tony’s back for a moment, to usher him forward. Tony looked back with his own playful grin.
Back in the parking lot, Gibbs climbed into the cab and reached over to help Tony in. Tony flopped down onto the seat and turned toward Jethro, even before he could turn on the truck.
Tony hooted. “I feel like we ran a marathon! All those kids! And it is only noon.”
Gibbs grinned back, “C’mon, let’s go get a burger.” He tore out of the parking lot, and even though he ended up sliding across the seat and banging into the door, Tony couldn’t stop laughing.
Not even the holiday shoppers bothered him today. In fact, sitting with Tony in a burger joint, right in the middle of the prime shopping district, watching everyone outside scurry around was surprisingly pleasant. Even the other diners ate quickly and left just as quick, whereas Tony and Gibbs lingered over their coffee, even after they had paid the check.
“So, what about the rest of the day? You going to work on the boat?”
Gibbs checked his watch. “I don’t know. I finished all those toys last night. Maybe...you up for a ride?”
Tony didn’t even bother to ask where, just pushed his empty coffee cup away and rose. “Can I drive?
Continue to part 6