Starting Over

Title: Starting Over
Author: Ladyholder
Fandom: NCIS, Stargate: Atlantis, SG-1
Warnings: Canon Typical, minor character death
Wordcount: 2990

 

When his alarm went off, Tony groaned in protest. He had flown back to DC the night before and had barely gotten to sleep. Cracking one eye open he saw it was 0400 and he had three hours to get into work. The five hours of sheep he had gotten were just not enough

Heaving himself out of bed he started his routine, a cross between standard military PT and yoga to stay limber. Then a very slow two-mile run/walk on his treadmill and he was good. As he stepped off the belt, Tony took several deep breaths and tried to assess how deep his lungs were drawing.

When that didn’t lead to any coughs, he called it deep enough and headed to the shower. Breakfast was as healthy as he was willing to make it, along with a mug of tea. He made sure to steep a strong cup to carry him through his drive in. By 0530 he was in his car and on the way to the Navy Yard.

The traffic gods were apparently with him since he managed to get in after only an hour on the road. After being gone a month, the check-in to NCIS was a bit of a shock but he settled in without much of a fuss. The trip up to the bullpen was quiet and Tony sipped on his tea and enjoyed the silence of the elevator. The orange walls made him blink for a moment before he adjusted. He truly had not missed the color scheme.

His watch told him he was in roughly fifteen minutes before he could expect Gibbs. Time enough to go over his desk and make sure he had everything he needed to start work. Status check complete, he booted up his computer to get caught up on his emails and see what insanity their new Madame Director had thought up.

Thirty days of emails had indeed built up to a depressing degree and as the SFA for MTAC, he had a lot of emails. The number of people who had BCC’d him on their emails was insane, but that was par for the course when anyone sent an email to Gibbs. Tony worked his way through the mess steadily.

It took him most of an hour to get his email under control and his tea was empty long before he was finished. By the time he surfaced from the mess, McGee was hard at work at his desk and Gibbs was on his way back from his first coffee run of the morning.

He still had some tea in his desk and the break room was always good for sugar so Tony grabbed his cup. “McGee, do you need any coffee?”

“I’m good Tony,” McGee glanced up from his own work and smiled. “You look a lot better.”

“Yeah, I finally feel better,” Tony admitted.

The thirty-day leave had not been in his plans, but his doctors had put their collective feet down after Kate’s funeral and he had given in as gracefully as he knew how. The time off had let him catch up on his sleep, his friends and get his wind back. Plus, it let him get his head around what had happened to Kate and make his peace with the events.

Pitt still wasn’t on his Christmas card list though.

Tea was procured and Tony was sipping at it as he made his way back to his desk. Turning the corner into the squad room he looked up and blinked at the sight before him. His stride never stopped and he slid behind his desk and set the cup down before he looked at the person before him.

“Ms. David. How can NCIS help you?” Tony asked.

“She’s here to join your team, Agent DiNozzo,” a sharp female voice announced from the mezzanine.

“Last I knew, Madame Director, Ms. David was a citizen of Israel, a member of Mossad, and is thus a foreign national. Has that changed in the month I’ve been gone?” Tony asked as he sat back and stared at the unwelcome guest.

“She still is, Agent DiNozzo.”

Well, wasn’t that ducky, Tony thought. Pushing was something he was good at, and he had every reason to do so in this case. “Has she gone through a background check? Gone to FLETC to get training in working at a federal agency? Had any classes to teach her how to investigate crimes or even collect evidence from the crime scenes?”

The amused cough from the direction of Gibbs’ desk was slightly distracting, and Tony felt one corner of his mouth tick up at the minor show of solidarity. He lost it as Sheppard finally answered him. “No, she hasn’t. She can learn on the job.”

“Yeah, that won’t work too well. We really don’t have time to handhold her through the process of becoming an agent.” Tony mused. “And has she got the clearance to see our cases, our case files, and go on our bases when we investigate?”

“That’s been taken care of, Agent DiNozzo” the Director’s voice was starting to sound peeved.

Tony kept his eyes on David and tried not to let his temper out. Nothing was adding up and that was raising red flags all over the place. Gibbs still seemed to be willing to let him run with his suspicions and he was going to take it.

“It’s nice that those things have been taken care of Director,” Tony allowed. “But I need to see those permissions before I will be comfortable taking Ms. David into the field. That’s not even counting what JAG will need.”

“I have the documents and proofs, Agent and I’m satisfied that they are all good. That will suffice for NCIS and JAG,” Sheppard told him. The peeved quality of her voice had changed to anger and Tony gritted his own teeth.

“That’s not going to cut it, Madame Director.”

“Well, it’s going to have to, Agent DiNozzo. I’m the one in charge of this agency and if I tell you that you are going to accept Ms. David on your team, you will. Or you don’t go out.”

“So, the choices are treason or standing by my morals, ethics, and the law?” Tony asked the room at large. “Well, I’m glad I don’t really have anything here.”

Tony stood up and dropped his shield and gun on his desk. He risked a glance at Gibbs and saw the older man already had his shield and gun on his own desk. McGee was white-faced as he put his own down. He ignored the babbling going on around him as he loaded up his messenger bag with his personal bits and bobs and walked out.

Flipping open his phone, Tony looked up a number that had been added during his month off. When the call was answered, Tony took a deep breath. “Is that job still open?”

 

 

The whole time he was packing, Tony tried to figure out why he wasn’t freaking out. He had over four years at NCIS and he had thought that he would be more broken up about leaving. He wasn’t. He would miss Abby, Gibbs, and Ducky, but that was about it. McGee was a small ache, but Tony didn’t have much invested in him.

He had a list of things he wanted to get done in the three days he had allotted before he was due to ship out. Most of his apartment would be stored and he would be setting up an allotment that would allow him to pay for it for years. What he was bringing would have to serve more than one purpose and he only had a limited amount of space.

He had a legal pad on his coffee table that he was jotting down notes to himself and the list was starting to get ridiculous. Pulling out his phone, he called his contact again. “John, it’s Tony. I need some help.”

The assenting noise he got back sounded distracted and Tony could hear what sounded like a store in the background.

“Are you at a mall?”

“I’ve been away for more than a year, Tony and I need to stock up before I head back out again, because damn, I’m out of everything. It’s sad,” John told him.

Snorting softly in laughter, Tony made assenting noises as he picked through one of his storage boxes. Winter clothes and most of them were suits. Moving the layers, he found the serviceable shirts and sweaters he used for the bad days and added them to the pile of things he was taking with him.

Maybe he needed something to compress everything. He added vacuum bags to the list of items he needed to pick up at Walmart.

“But you didn’t call me to talk me through the horror that is shopping. What’s up?” John asked. The phone sounded slightly muffled as if the other man was holding the phone between his shoulder and his chin.

“Well, I can’t say that it’s not funny to listen to you shop, but yeah, I need some confirmation. How much can I bring, what will be supplied, and will I be packing for all seasons?” Tony asked.

The phone line was silent for several moments before John grunted. “Uhm… Seriously, I don’t know how many pounds it is, but I can get you the containers so you can pack them full. You should get a full set of uniforms and stuff, but you might want to invest in a few extra things. Like socks, boots, t-shirts, underwear, you know, the standard stuff. Seasons? Hell, the place is near where Hawai’i would be, if Hawai’i was at our location.”

“Right. I’m adding sunscreen to my list. Should I bring a surfboard?” Tony asked as he added the item to his list. “And what about kitchen supplies?”

“You want to cook? Jesus. I’m gonna visit your place as often as I can then,” John muttered. “Black, black, or black?”

“Try emerald green for once you monochrome loving basket case,” Tony muttered back. He was going to take the non-answer as a positive and run with it. He knew of a spice merchant who could pack his goods in vacuum packs and he would get solid spices wherever possible. He had his Nana’s recipe book along with the one Cookie had given him when he went off to college, and he planned to add to it with some judicious trolling of the internet.

“I’m not out there to look good Tony,” John groused. “Bring what you need to set up your kitchen. Whatever it means for you, including any little machines you like. I know where there’s a few places with decent setups. If you want anything special on the supply front, I will get you in touch with our mess specialists.”

“Good to know. And you aren’t getting clothes for when you’re on duty, John. You’re getting stuff for when you aren’t. And that means that color can come back into your wardrobe,” Tony added more items to his list. “Can you get the boxes I’m to pack in so I can get started?”

“Sure. I’ll call over to have them sent to you within an hour. I don’t need color in my wardrobe, Tony. That way leads to shit I don’t want,” John bitched. The sound in the background changed and Tony figured he was checking out. The sound of someone scanning price tags into a register was rather distinctive.

“Dressing well won’t get you another wife, John. Be real. At best, it might get you laid. Speaking of, what’re the rules and regs on extracurricular activities?”

“Please, you don’t know the people I work with yet; I’m not going to tempt fate. As for what you are alluding to? Bring whatever makes you happy. Just remember some things are going to be supplied by the base itself,” John told him with a grunt. “Jesus, I’m expensive.”

“Pay for your black-on-black clothes, you stubborn basket case, I know you can afford it. I’m pretty sure that the lube I want won’t be there, so I need to make another pit stop,” Tony commented as he added to his list. He really needed his crates so he could start budgeting himself. His list was getting to be ridiculous.

“The General muttered something about ordering a few 55-gallon drums to send with us, Tony. I think you will be good,” John’s voice got amused suddenly and then he grunted. “I think I need to drop shit off. Look, I need to go back to my car and stuff this batch of stuff in the trunk. While I’m there, I’ll call Walter to get the boxes sent out to you.”

“Works for me,” Tony agreed and ended the call when John did. As a precaution, he moved the coffee table against the wall and left the area in the center of his living room clear before closing the drapes for privacy. He got back to work sorting his supplies and only blinked at the flash of light that lit his living room up. Once the aftereffects cleared from his eyes, he saw that he had three 3x4x3 foot crates as his allotment. He had a lot more room than he had expected, but he had a lot of stuff to fit in it.

Tony turned on a movie and started packing.

 

 

Tony was tired. He had spent two and a half days running all over DC getting things set up for his upcoming trip. His apartment was fully packed and sitting in a storage unit, wrapped in plastic. The only things left in his apartment were his crates, his personal luggage, an airbed that would get packed in the morning, and him. Morning was coming fast and hard and he was slowly winding down from his massive rush. He had even managed to get his goodbyes in and that had been the last thing he had done before he had turned in. He had promised to stay in touch with everyone. Given that John had told him they had email and he knew how to send video, he would be able to keep that promise.

Since there wasn’t any seating in his place, he was lounging on the air bed watching one of the many movies he had… acquired hunting through the internet. Dinner had been takeout and Tony figured he was just about calm enough to go to sleep as the credits started to roll. The knock on his door was unexpected and he cocked his head to the side as he considered the cadence.

All his coworkers had already received their goodbyes, he had no one he was dating, the super had told him to leave the key on the kitchen counter and he’d signed everything with NCIS to end his employment. He had his suspicions, but also no reason to open the door.

The subtle sound of lock picks being used on his door decided him and Tony raised his personal handgun and flicked off the safety as his door opened. “Ziva David, what are you doing here?”

“Director Shepard sent me to ask you back to NCIS and MCRT,” the Israeli agent told him. She seemed intent on ignoring the gun he had aimed at her. “I wasn’t aware that you were moving.”

“Uh-huh. You know I was at NCIS today and signed the last of my paperwork today. Soon to be former Director Shepard had nothing to say beyond ‘good-bye’ as I finished with it,” Tony cocked his head to the side as he spoke. He had no idea how far the Israeli would take this.

David’s eyes flashed with temper and Tony regretted staying seated. Baiting the insane might be fun, but doing it from a position of strength was better. “Why did you have to speak up?”

“You mean, why did I call attention to the attempted treason you were trying to get Shepard to do? Because that was my job, Ms. David. And there was no way I was going to let you get your hooks into NCIS. It looks like Director Shepard is going to be too busy explaining herself to SecNav and the President to allow you to spy,” Tony tsked several times. “Sucks to be you.”

Apparently, that was a step too far and the Israeli stepped forward, her hand raised. “Why, you!”

“I really wouldn’t, Ms. David. After all, I didn’t ask you in here, and your picks are still in my door. If I shoot you, I’m protecting myself against a home invader,” Tony told her without a blink.

“You’re soft. You wouldn’t kill me,” David snorted in disbelief.

“He might not, but I would.” Tony watched John say as his friend snugged his gun against the back of the Israeli’s head. “So, I suggest you go back and tell Eli that his latest feint has failed.” It was fascinating to watch as David’s skin paled. Whatever John was alluding to, it seemed that his unwelcome guest knew what it was. The nod she gave was stiff and she took a step to the side before exiting his apartment. The snick of lock picks being removed was quiet and John flipped the deadbolt as he closed the door.

John holstered his gun and shook his head. “What a bitch.”

“You have no idea,” Tony told him feelingly. “Am I getting picked up early?”

“Yeah. Was there anything else that you wanted to add to your crates?” John asked as he poked at the three boxes that dominated the living room.

“No, I’m good. All sealed except one and that one’s getting my bedding and the air bed,” Tony admitted.

“Pack it up, DiNozzo. We’ve got something we need to you check out before we ship out.”

“Aye, aye, Colonel!” Tony told him smartly. John groaned.

“I’m in the Air Force, you jackass.”