A Slap In The Face

Tony eyed his computer with some disgust. He had finally gotten his father to turn his inheritance over to him, sort of. All he had to do was enter four 16-digit strings into the bank interface and he'd have it. He'd been trying for two years now. He only had four attempts every six months. As it was, he couldn't even access the interest. He knew his father had something to do with this. The old goat had said out right that, if he couldn't have it, Tony couldn't either.

"Son of a bitch!"

Tim looked up. "What the hell, Tony?"

"I'm really getting sick of this. I can't enter the codes to my account fast enough."

"Cut and Paste it. Seriously, Tony, you're not that computer illiterate."

"Ok, McSmartass, you do it. But I've only got three tries before I'm locked out for another six months. Oh, and the thing won't let me cut and paste."

Tim frowned then ambled over to Tony's desk. "That can't be right. It's … scrooch."

Tony moved to allow Tim access. Tim tried cut and pasting the strings and they didn't even show. "Hum. Shit! This is really not right. Who's your bank?"

Tony gave him the name of the bank, branch, and account number. "I've called them every time this happens and I get told that they'll look into it." Tony made a face. "Yeah … sure they will."

Tim read the card, thought a bit then said, "Let me make a call. This whole deal … well, only you, Tony, could get yourself into a mess like this. Just leave it to me. MIT grad and all."

Tim dialed Tony's phone then waited a bit. "Hey! Frank. Long time." He listened for a minute then replied, "Ok. I'll be there. So … need a bit of a favor. Friend of mine is having trouble accessing his account. He's a bit of a Luddite but I can't seem to cut and paste the passwords. It's not allowing enough time nor accepting the cut. See what the problem is for me?" He listened for a moment then leaned back. "On hold." He waited about two minutes while Tony glowered beside him. "Ok. That's … you might want to investigate that. So … here's what we really need. I'll read you off the numbers, you do your thing and … Tony?"

Tony nodded. "I'll give him an account number to transfer all funds to. That work?"

Tim relayed the info and his friend asked for the account number.

Tony took the phone and gave it from memory. "Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it."

Tim took the phone back and listened as his friend confirmed the transfer went through.

"There. Now stop bitching about it and do something useful." He didn't notice the narrow-eyed look Tony gave him.

Ziva wandered in with a coffee and a smirk. "How are we this fine day?"

Tim sighed, "You're late."

"And?"

Tony just snorted. "Never mind. I'd write you up … again, but Gibbs'll just file 13 it. Keep it up, Sheppard will notice, sooner or later. Now … I have to leave early today. Keep yourselves out of trouble until Gibbs gets back."

Tony ignored Ziva's surly glower in favor of answering his phone. He fiddled with it for a moment, blinked then swore. He grinned around and started to do a little victory dance. "Yes! I got it! Thanks, Probie." He turned around just as Gibbs was about to deliver a head slap. The crack of the slap was loud. Everyone in the room turned just in time to see the vivid red hand print bloom across Tony's cheek.

Tony froze. "Oh, that's just great." He watched as Gibbs opened his mouth to say something. Tony held up a finger in a just a moment gesture. "Not a word. I do not want to hear it."

Meanwhile, Ziva was laughing her head off while Tim looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or run.

Tony sat down at his desk. Gibbs glowered for a moment then sat at his. Tony clicked his mouse, typed a moment then the printer started up.

Tony stood up to take the papers out of the printer. "You know, I have no idea what I ever did to any of you to merit this level of disrespect but I'm done. I did everything I knew how to do to hold this team together for you, Jethro, but all I got was 'Gibbs wouldn't do it this way.' and 'Don't try to be Gibbs.' No way to win. Now you're back and you don't give a shit that neither one of your junior agents will even follow my legitimate orders. Now this? I'm so done."

Ziva opened her mouth and was told, "Just shut up. I don't want to hear it. I don't care about Mossad or any of that shit." She shut her mouth with a snap.

Tony signed a page, stapled several together then did another group. "I emailed my resignation to Sheppard. And here's your copy." Tony tossed the pages into Gibbs desk. "There." He picked up his coffee mug, Mighty Mouse stapler, and his letter opener. He stuffed them and a few files into his go-bag and headed up the stairs.

Tim looked at Gibbs who was looking a bit shell shocked. "What just happened?"

Gibbs sighed. "I fucked up … big time."

Ziva sneered. "Tony's just having a dizzy. He'll be back with his tail in his hand, begging to come back."

Gibbs frowned for a moment then snarled, "Next fucked up saying will be your last. Either get it right or forget it. And it's 'tizzy'. As to the other, tail between his legs, or dick in his hand. It's not cute, it's not clever; it's just annoying as hell." Ziva blinked then turned to her computer and began to type. "And the next report that comes across my desk littered with Hebrew, or any other language not English, will put you on report."

Tim stuck his nose in his computer, curious to see if he could find out exactly what sort of accounts Tony had been trying to access. He found out quickly as all he had to do was get access to Tony's computer, which he'd had for years. He was shocked to find that Tony's 'little' inheritance was from his DiNozzo and Paddington grandparents and his Mother. It amounted to a little over 120 million dollars, what with interest being turned into the principle for over twenty years.

.

Jeniffer Shepard, Jen to her friends, was startled to find one of her SFA's standing in front of her desk. "Tony, what can I do for you?" She blinked, "And who hit you."

Tony handed her his resignation. "Gibbs." Jen blinked but didn't get a word in as Tony walked over her. "I'll continue the op I'm on, with better back up. Or I can turn it over to someone else. I'll keep the job at Georgetown on my own merits. I like Jethro but I'm not putting up with Gibbs' abuse anymore, not to mention the disrespect of David and McGee. Also, I'm not going undercover with the only contact I have being someone who's in meetings and out of contact more than not."

Jen had known things were coming to a head with Gibbs and Co. she just hadn't expected it this soon. "Very well. I'm sorry it's come to this but …I've seen the writing on the wall for a while. I'll … assign you to Cynthia then. She's handled undercover ops before and her job won't interfere as she's never out of contact. I'll file this now but put it on hold until the op is finished. In a way, this is good, it'll allow you more time to … romance your target. As to Georgetown?"

Tony shrugged. "I actually have the qualifications to teach the class. I have a Master's in Cinematic History. I also have one in Cinematic Arts. Then there's the Criminal Psychology, Abnormal Psychology, and a Bachelor's in Police Practices and Criminal Justice. I'll expect a glowing recommendation from you to Georgetown ASAP."

Jen just nodded. "I am really sorry it's come to this." She rubbed her forehead then asked, "What do you want to do about your leave time?"

"I'll ask to be paid for it as I'm not taking it to do an Op that I should be paid time and a half for. See to that, will you?" He paused for a moment. "And don't screw me over. You'll hear from my lawyer if you do." And with that he turned and left, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

Jen picked up her phone, put it down; then picked it up again. She dialed then waited, when it was answered she just snarled, "Jethro … my office … NOW!" and slammed it down.

It wasn't long before Gibbs entered without knocking. She just demanded. "What the hell happened? I've got an SFA with a slap mark on his face and a resignation in his hand so start talking and make it good."

Gibbs rubbed his face then admitted, "I messed up. I was just going to slap his head like I always do but he turned around and I slapped him in the face."

Jen shook her head. "I've been warning you about that for years. You finally did it. And I'm not even going to ask him to remain. He's endured enough of your bad temper and surly attitude. I will warn you to rein in your dogs before I smack you all with a rolled up paper. Now, do your own work from now on and make McGee does the SFA work on time … for now. I'll deal with Ziva. Anything else?"

"No. But I'll call him tonight and see if he's cooled off yet. If he has, you can just File 13 that resignation."

"No, I don't believe I will. He's … lost his edge. It's better if we make a clean break of it. And do not go hounding him." Jen gave her old boss an assessing look. "If you want to salvage anything of your relationship, I suggest you take a good, long look at yourself. Now get out."

Gibbs glared for a moment, realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere until everyone cooled off, and left, slamming the door behind him.

.

Ziva read the email from HR then smirked happily. "Well, that was quick. Tony has quit. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you with Gibbs when I'm made SFA."

Tim shook his head. "And what makes you so sure you'll be SFA? I did the job while Tony took Gibbs' place."

Gibbs stormed in and barked, "And did a shitty job of it. He did all the paperwork for both positions. I don't see that you did much of anything. And Ziva? Not a chance in hell. I'll be bringing in an SFA from outside the team." And with that, he got his sidearm and creds from his desk and stormed off.

Ziva announced, "I will speak with Jenny."

She was startled and dismayed to hear, 'I don't believe you will.' from just over her head.

"Jenny?"

"I've made arrangements for HR to speak with both of you. Where's Gibbs?"

Tim gulped. "He just left. He was really pissed."

"Too bad for him. You're both on two weeks unpaid, disciplinary leave. You will be escorted out, the escort will collect your creds and guns." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked back to her office, slamming the abused door behind her.

Tim blenched, "Oh, shit, she's never slammed a door before."

Ziva also blenched, "I think we have … stabbed ourselves in the back."

Tim gave Ziva an aggrieved look. "Someone else stabs you in the back, which is what we did to Tony; shooting ourselves in the foot in the process." He shut down his computer, put some things in his pack and gathered his creds and gun. "Oh. Don't call me. I'm turning off my phone as soon as I hit the gate."

Ziva huffed. She had been going to call him as soon as she could to nag him into agreeing with her. Now he would be thinking for himself and that wasn't to her benefit at all.

Tim nodded at the elevator, "They're here. And do not kick up a fuss. I'm not up to soothing ruffled feathers at the moment so you'll just make yourself look like a roaring bitch."

The security officers approached in tandem. It seemed that no one was taking any chances so both Tim and Ziva had been assigned two men.

Tim just nodded, picked up his things, surrendering his arm and wallet without comment. He shouldered his pack and followed the two officers to the elevator.

Ziva gave up her arm and wallet with a scowl, grabbed her bag with a glower and stomped after him. The two men assigned to her glanced at each other, shrugged in tandem, and followed.

It was a bit crowded in the elevator as the four security men were active duty Marines who dwarfed Tim, not to mention towering over Ziva, but they managed.

One of the Marines nodded at Tim and Ziva. He handed them some papers, saying, "Ok. Here's your paperwork. There's a copy of your formal reprimand, a receipt for your arm and creds, and an Ex Parte order for the Yard. You'll get your arm and ID back when you return." He turned to Ziva. "For your information, just so you can't say you didn't know. An Ex Parte order is a temporary order forbidding you to have contact with a person or to enter a property. In both your cases there's one for Special Agent DiNozzo and one for the Yard in it's entirety." He smirked at Ziva's shocked face. "Have a nice day." He nodded to his companions and they all marched off leaving Tim and Ziva to the not so gentle ministrations of the officer in charge of the front door.

He just pointed to the doors and said, "Out!"

Ziva started to argue but Tim snarled, "Do. Not. Start. Anything." He left, leaving her standing there with egg on her face.

.

Abby sang along to one of her favorite songs, dancing in place while she waited for results.

Her Skype binging brought her attention to Tim. "Timmy! Hi!" She eyed him. "Hey, what's with the long face."

"You won't believe this." He told her the whole mess, ending, "So now I'm on unpaid, disciplinary leave for two weeks."

Abby gave a little screech. "No! Nonono! Tony can't quit! He'll ruin everything. Call him up! Tell him to come back right now."

"Can't do that. There's an Ex Parte and I'm not breaching it. Beside the fact that it won't do any good." Tim shook his head. "I'm beginning to wonder why he stayed as long as he did. I'll talk to you later … I just wanted to break the news before some catty bitch did it. Don't call me later, I'm turning my phone off. Bye, Abs."

Abby stared at the screen for a bit before she decided to have a fit. She stormed around her lab, slamming drawers and swearing. After that, she tried to hack HR to see what was going on. She was mortally embarrassed when she got a flashing, spinning pop up that said, "Abigale Scuito! Stop hacking internal systems! You are warned!"

She signed out early and went home.

.

Tony realized that he had several choices to make so he went back home to his apartment to have a drink and think.

He wasn't sure exactly what to do about Jeanne. He felt bad about his whole involvement with her. He'd been telling Jen that she didn't know anything for over a week now but she didn't want to listen. He'd gotten the feeling that she, Jen, was desperate so he was going to slowly withdraw from Jeanne's life and make no excuses, a written report that the op was done would do. He'd give that two weeks. He also needed to decide how to go about keeping his professorship at Georgetown. That shouldn't be too difficult, they'd been actively looking for a professor before Jen talked them into giving him the job. He had been very careful to do the best job he knew how and had been pleased to read the staff reviews students left for him. He had a solid five star rating. He'd have to speak to his department head as soon as he could.

But, for tonight, he was going to take time to cook a nice meal, have a glass of wine, and relax for the first time in weeks. He was not putting up with anyone's angst fest, temper tantrum, or toddler tizzy. He picked up his phone to make sure that Ziva, McGee, Abby and Gibbs were all temporarily blocked. He ambled over to his door, locked it, put on the chain, then wedged a chair under the knob.

He decided on a simple dish of spaghetti, broccoli, chicken and Alfredo sauce with some garlic bread made from stale rolls. The cooking would help him calm down. Since he'd already had a finger of bourbon he limited himself to one glass of white wine. There was no salad as he hadn't had a chance to shop in two weeks. He put a bullet point on his to-do list. He was going to deal with all his put off to-do tasks this week. Period.

He was just finishing his meal when his phone rang. "DiNozzo."

He'd been expecting this call. "Jen. Give me a sec to put you on speaker. I'm just finishing supper."

"Tony. I just called to ask if you have anything to report on the op, if you're even going to continue it."

Tony picked up his dishes and put them in the sink as he answered, "I am, conditionally. No. Not at present. Jeanne is at a conference in Detroit. She won't be back until Thursday at the earliest. I though I'd use this time to solidify my place at Georgetown. She's starting to ask some uncomfortable questions about class times and lecture sites."

"Well, take care of all that at your soonest opportunity. I don't want this op to go down the drain because someone messed up your back story."

Tony wiped his plate with a soapy sponge. "I know. And who the hell decided my name should be DiNardo? That's Hollywood Italian at it's best. I'm going to just use my real name. I'll make some excuse about not noticing until someone addressed me then not wanting to make waves my first week. Don't worry about it."

"Well, I will. I need this op to go well. I've got a lot invested in it. La Grenouille is one of the top rated targets on earth. I want him!"

Tony snorted to himself, then said, "Do not queer my op. Stay out of it. I'll report to Cynthia on Friday. Right now … I've got plans to make … a woman to romance … and a team of very unpleasant people to deal with. And the hot water just went out." He frowned at the faucet.

"I really don't care about your damn hot water. I'm more concerned with your attitude toward my op."

"And that's one of the problems. You've got blinkers on over this. You can't see that the lack of hot water is very important. I can't shower in ice cold water, therefore I can't visit Jeanne. She has a very sensitive nose and smells bother her. Ergo, I can't stink. And I can't have her over because I haven't cleaned my kitchen since I cooked. Again, she hates grease. You can't get grease off with cold water. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Jen sighed, clearly heard over the phone. "I do. I'm sorry. I just need this to go well. I'll step back and give you some breathing room. Just report to Cynthia at least every other day … Ok?"

"I'll do that. Now … why don't you go home, have a drink, and relax. I've got this under control."

"Ok. Good night."

Tony sighed, picked up his personal phone and called his landlord. He got the service so he left a message. He wondered how long it would be before the heat went out as well.

It was about 2:30 AM when that question was answered.

He woke up shivering so hard his teeth chattered. He could actually see his breath. When he tried to turn on the lights nothing happened. He grumbled sourly as he packed a rolling suitcase by flashlight, taking most of his clothing, and called a hotel to make a reservation.

He nearly hurt himself as he'd forgotten the chair under the doorknob. He moved the chair then left, headed for a small but very nice hotel he knew of. He didn't like big, fancy hotels like the Adam's House, they were all too visible for him. He liked places like the Marriott Rooms and Suites he was checked into.

He'd booked a two bedroom suite with kitchenette and office. He could afford the $400 a night.

The cab ride was quick, this time of night the traffic was nearly non-existent. The driver was happy to chat, in fact, after stuffing the suitcase in the trunk, the first thing he did was ask, "And why are you going to a hotel at this time of night? Not that it's my business, just makin' conversation."

Tony shrugged. "Heat went out. I've got enough money that I don't have to put up with that shit. I like the building and most of the people but I'm seriously considering selling out and moving."

The driver, whose name was Henry, agreed, "Don't blame you. My wife and I moved out of a similar building about two years ago. We needed three beds because of the kids but the last one went off to college so we moved into a better neighborhood and into a security building. It's really nice. And no Renters Association."

Tony, who'd had trouble with his association over his piano, his hours, and his fish, said, "I wish. I even had trouble with mine over a damn gold fish. Seriously? They don't think I ought to have two gold fish, what with my hours and all."

"Goldfish? Really? You need to move. I'll get you my address … not the apartment number … just the street. If you'd like, that is."

"I really would. If I don't like your building, maybe the realtor will have something else that I do like. Thanks."

They visited about other things until they arrived at the Marriott Suites at 3:15. Tony took his bag and gave Henry his fare plus a nice tip, he received a scrap of paper with an address in return. He tucked the paper into his wallet, thanked Henry again and went to check in.

The clerk looked up as he approached the desk. "Good … um … night? May I help you?"

Tony handed her the print out with his reservation details. "Yeah. Anthony DiNozzo to check in."

Naomi didn't even bother to look at the paper. "You're not Mr DiNozzo. I know him. So …"

Tony walked over whatever else she'd been about to say. "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. NCIS. You're thinking of my sperm donor. Do I have a reservation or not?"

"Oh. Well … I'm sure we can accommodate you somewhere." She turned to her computer and tapped at the keyboard for a moment. "I see. Are you sure? This suite is $400 a night."

"I'm sure" He glowered for a moment. "Look, I'm tired. My heat went out. All I want is a place to sleep until check out. Just … whatever. But if you stick me with some crappy single-single I will complain. So find me something."

Naomi gave him a dirty look, fiddled with her computer for a moment then handed him a keycard. "Here you go. Room 204."

Tony took the card then took a floor plan brochure from the rack. "Fine. Second floor. Good night."

He got on the elevator, went up and found his room. It was a single with a king. He just parked his suitcase, found pajamas and went to bed. He'd deal in the morning.

.

Abby spent a hour finding Tony's address; she also cancelled his credit cards, turned off his utilities, and had his car repossessed. The last was doomed to fail as it was in the shop for an oil change and general checkup.

After she finished with her petty vengeance she went to his building, not caring that it was now 4am, and up to his apartment. After ringing the doorbell and waiting a couple of minutes, she knocked. She waited again, getting angrier and angrier as she did so. After five minutes she began to ring the door bell while pounding on the door.

Another couple of minutes saw her not only ringing the door bell but kicking the door and yelling, "DiNozzo! Open up! I know you're in there!" She continued this, even though doors were opening all up and down the hall.

It wasn't long after that that police arrived, arrested her for trespass, destruction of property, disturbing the peace and assault on an officer. They took her to the station and let her have one call.

She decided to call Tim, but he'd turned his phone off, just like he'd said he would. She was allowed another call, which she made to Gibbs.

Gibbs showed up at 4:30 in a very grumpy mood. "Ok. I'm here." He showed his ID. "What's going on?"

It wasn't long before Gibbs was in an even worse mood. "Damn it! She … I … how much?"

The desk sergeant wasn't impressed by Gibbs' ID, not that Gibbs had intended that. "No idea. Judge hasn't set bail yet. I'd suggest you come back at about ten."

"Ok. Can you put a note in her jacket to call me so I can get finances in order?" All he really wanted was to go back to bed.

"Yeah, professional courtesy, I can do that." The sergeant felt sorry for the guy. This nutjob had to be a full time thing.

"Thanks. I'll get a bail-bondsman to deal with it." With that he turned around and left dialing his phone as he went.

.

Tim called Tony at about 9:30, got the voice mail and left a message that he wanted to talk to Tony at his convenience as long as that didn't violate the ex parte, he admitted he wasn't sure. He also left an apology.

Gibbs called at 9:45 with a request to call him when he wanted to.

Jen called at 10:00 to tell him that she'd sent his recommendation to the head of the Cinematology Department and demand to know how his NCIS phone was disconnected.

None of the calls were answered as Tony was still sleeping. Until housekeeping knocked on the door at 10:45 to tell him he needed to check out now.

Tony grumbled then called out, "Ok, ok. I'm up. I'll be dressed and out in ten minutes."

The housekeeper called back, "Ok. I'm sorry but we got to clean. Ten minutes."

Tony gave himself the sniff test, put on deodorant and after shave, got out jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and biker boots. At this stage of the game he really didn't give a shit what sort of impression he gave.

He was at the check out desk at 11:00. "DiNozzo to check out."

The new front desk attendant frowned for a moment. "What room?"

"204." Tony scowled. "And that's not the room I booked. I booked a two-bedroom suite with a kitchen and office."

"Yes, sir. I have no idea why you were given a different room." Amanda eyed her monitor like it might bite.

"I'll tell you why. Your snob night clerk took one look at me and decided that a man in dockers and a rugby shirt couldn't possibly afford the suite." Tony tapped his credit card on the counter. "Here."

"Yes, sir." She scanned it, frowned then scanned it again. "I'm sorry, sir, but this card has been cancelled. Do you have another?"

"I do." Tony stopped. "I need to make a call." He pulled out his phone and dialed, thank goodness Abby had cancelled his NCIS phone instead of his personal one. "Dennis. Hey, did you check my accounts? Yeah. So, I need you to un cancel my credit card." he listened for a moment. "Long involved story which can be told in one word … Abby. Fix it. I'll be in on Monday to talk about things." he hung up and turned to Amanda. "I have an ex-friend who thought it would be hilarious to cancel various things … including my credit card, utilities and phone. Give it long enough for me to get coffee and try again." He just walked off, leaving the card with Amanda.

Five minutes later she called him over from his coffee and Danish. "Well, I wouldn't have anything to do with that ex of yours. Seriously. We had to make you a new card as the old number can't be used since the account was canceled. So … here you go."

Tony took the card which looked suspiciously like a key card. "Thank you. This is on the same bank as my old one?"

"Yes, sir. I'm so sorry for all the confusion." Amanda gave him a rather shaky smile and ran his card. "There we go. Would you like to renew your reservations for a suite?"

Tony shook his head. "No. It's not your fault but I really don't feel comfortable here. I'll look elsewhere for a place to stay for a week."

Amanda paled. "I'm really sorry, are you sure there's no way to convince you to stay?"

"No, sorry. I hope you don't get in trouble."

"I won't. All you have to do is leave a review and mention names. Mine is Amanda. The night girl is Naomi."

Tony called Uber for a car then went outside to wait.

While he waited he called NCIS, got put on hold, got transferred to the wrong department then finally got hold of Delores Bromstead. "Dee, what's up with my NCIS phone? I was supposed to keep the number for 30 days. And could you please check to make sure my resignation is processed ASAP? I'll love you forever. Oh! And I'd like paid for all my sick days, vacation days, and over time days."

Delores snorted inelegantly. "Oh, yeah. I'll see about getting your phone reinstated until that stupid op you're on is done. And I'll personally see that all your paid hours are paid, never mind what the bean counters in Accounting say. Also … you'll want to check to make sure that your utilities are back on and check your car. Little Miss Abby has been a very naughty bunny. I'd have though you'd know by now."

Tony took the phone away from his ear to stare at it for a second. "I woke up at some ungodly hour freezing. I could see my breath. So I checked into a hotel. So … share the dirt … come on, doll, dish."

So Delores told all ending, "Gibbs is steaming. He called a friend of his who's a bail guy but wouldn't co-sign for bail. Sheppard is boiling. She had Scuito served with an Ex Parte in your favor. Now. A little bird told me that you finally got your inheritance? I hope you have a good financial advisor."

Tony smirked. "I do. He's a frat brother. We made dream plans years ago. He's gonna invest for me. Ever heard of French, Bishop and Lange? He's Bishop."

"Oh, my. I feel much better. The man is a shark. Isn't he the son of the Bishop who is Bishop, Bishop and Keaner?"

"He is. And they all hate the old man."

Delores thought for a moment. "Why don't you change your name? You know Senior is always dumping debts on you, then you have to go through all that song and dance to prove it's not your responsibility."

Tony frowned. "Frankly, I never thought about it. Maybe I could just drop Dominic? Never liked it. Sounds like a mafioso."

"Well, I'll have papers done when you come in to sign all the shit you have to to make sure that NCIS knows you're quitting. All you'll have to do is sign. You'll be getting all your pay via electronic deposit. That way Accounting can't mess with things."

Tony looked up as a nice Lexus drew up to the curb. "Uber's here. I gotta go. I'll let you know where I'm staying until I get my utilities back on. Thanks, Dee, I really owe you."

He let the driver put his suitcase in the trunk then asked, "Have you got any recommendations for a nice hotel that has two bedroom suites with kitchen and office and no snobby help?"

"Adams house is good. They don't care about looks, just if you can pay. Don't care for them myself but some like it. There's Watergate but the name can be a deal breaker. There's a couple of new places I like, the new Hyatt down on the river is one. It's really new, not even listed yet."

Tony thought for a moment then said, "Ok, take me there, please."

The twenty minute ride was busier than Tony had expected. He got a text from Clark asking if he wanted to initiate their plans. Tony texted back that he did but was expecting some changes would be needed. Then he got his first financial statement. It seemed that he'd also inherited a few small businesses including DiNozzo Trucking LLC. He blinked then scrolled down. His total worth was over 200 million dollars. "Well, son of a biscuit."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, more than. Just got a nice surprise."

"That's good … and we're here."

Tony handed over his credit card, the driver swiped it then pointed to a small touch screen. "Just use your finger." Tony signed then got out, waited for his suitcase then went in.

A perky young thing sporting a huge name tag that proclaimed her to be Billi chirped, "Good day. How may the Hyatt help you?"

Tony smiled at her. "Anthony DiNozzo. I'd like a suite … two bedrooms, kitchen and office please."

A few taps at her keyboard had Billi informing him that they had several suites available and would he like to see their virtual tours or actually see the suites.

Tony thought for a second then said, "Why don't we virtual first then, if I have trouble deciding, we'll go see them in person?"

"Excellent." Billi brought up the first one.

Tony took one look and said, "No … um … it looks like someone spilled Pepto all over everything."

Billi giggled. "It is very pink. We also have that suite in lavender, black, and yellow." Tony made a face. "I take it that those are all a no-go?" Tony nodded. "We have themed rooms as well. There's Danish Modern, very artsy, all glass and steel? No? Didn't think so. There's a southwestern theme, it's not too bad, very low key; the colors are all desert sort of things, turquoise, clay, and buff." Tony grimaced. "No. There's an English club sort of thing and a sort of nondescript '80's American. I like the English Cottage one. It's old furniture, lots of wood paneling and almond paint."

Tony nodded. "Ok. I think I'd like to see the English and the '80's American. Thanks."

"Ok. Great. You can leave your case here or bring it with. Frankly, I'd bring it." Billi took a couple of keycards with the Hyatt logo on them out of a rack and trotted off to the elevators with Tony right behind her.

He found the '80's American theme to be what he thought of as IKEA bland. "Sorry. I'm sure it suits some people but … no."

"Ok. I didn't think you'd like it but …" She shrugged then turned to the next door down. "Fortunately, the English theme is right here."

Tony loved it. The room was done up like a gentleman's club with wood paneling in a walnut panel from the middle of the wall down, a chair rail separated that from the almond painted upper part. All the furniture was heavy leather club common done in ox blood. The lighting was subdued but bright enough to read by. "Yes. I'll take it for the week with an option to renew. My building is old and the heat is out, plus an ex shut off my utilities so there's no water or electric."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry to hear that. Give me a sec to initiate my tablet then we'll get you all set up."

The tablet made a noise that indicated it was ready. "Ok. Today is Saturday so you'll check in today and you want the suite through …" She looked at him expectantly.

"Next Friday with an option for another week."

"Ok. Since you're technically taking it for a week … it'll be $340 a night."

"Great. Run my card for me. Oh, and check on the limit, my financial advisor was going to up it."

"I'll be happy to do that. I have to check it anyway … company policy."

Her soft exclamation made Tony grimace and demand, "What?"

She just turned her tablet so he could see the infinity symbol. "Unlimited."

Tony smirked. "Oh. Well." he took the tablet. "Where do I sign?"

"Right here." Billi pointed.

Tony saw the tip button and tapped it, entered a nice tip then signed. "There."

"Thank you, sir. Enjoy your stay. If you need anything just page the desk." She handed him his key and trotted out.

"Well, that's something."

Tony wandered the rooms a bit then unpacked, carefully hanging his suits in the closet and putting things in drawers. He checked his toiletries and realized that he was nearly out of shampoo, conditioner, and shaving cream. He decided to check the kitchen before he did any shopping.

It turned out that the kitchen was supplied with staples and a tablet that was a shopping list; all he had to do was enter what he wanted and how much.

He was just finished when his phone rang. "DiNozzo."

It was Clark who wanted to set up a face-to-face meeting on Monday. Tony thought for a moment then said, "I've got to see the Department Head then the Dean at Georgetown. I'm going to try to expand my temporary professorship to a permanent one. Then I need to get out of that building, the Renters Association is driving me crazy. Not to mention the heat being iffy and the … never mind. So … I can come to your office at nine?"

Clark said, "Nine will be great. I'll set my secretary on your landlord. If you decide you want to sell out, I'll deal with that. As to professor? What the actual fuck?"

Tony knew he could share almost anything with Clark and he'd never say a word so he just told as much of the story as he was comfortable with and finished by saying, "So I resigned effective immediately but agreed to finish this op. I'm hoping the Dean and department head will agree to keep me on. I'm qualified to teach, I actually do have all the credentials to be a full professor of my chosen field."

"Well, good luck. I hope you get the job. I'll have a bunch of shit for you to deal with but it's mostly straight forward. See you at nine Monday. Oh! Before I hang up. What's up with the NCIS number you gave me?"

"Someone cancelled it. Probably Abby. She threw a tizzy or I miss my guess. But … enough of her. I'm done. The only people I'm still comfortable being in contact with are Delores Bromstead, Jimmy Palmer, and Ducky … Donald Mallard. Which reminds me. I need to call both of them. So, I'll see you Monday. Bye." He hung up with a slight smile.

As soon as he hung up he pressed 3 in his speed dial. The phone only rang three times before it was picked up.

"Anthony! Oh my goodness, I'm so glad to hear from you my dear boy. Please, tell me all."

So Tony repeated his story. "So I'm gonna see if I can't get a real job there. Not that I really need it, but I'll drive myself nuts if I try doing nothing."

"Well, I'm very happy for you. I can call the Dean. I know him well. If you think that will help?"

"Thanks, Ducky, I'll take you up on that offer. And I want to make a firm date for lunch, dinner something, at least twice a month. Please?"

"Of course." Ducky let his delight show. "I'd be very pleased to meet with you every other Thursday for supper. My club, trade off paying."

Tony nodded to himself. "Great. Just what I'd love. See what time is available and get back to me. I'll hang up now so I can call Jimmy. Don't want him to feel neglected."

"You do that. Good-bye." Ducky hung up then settled back in his chair with his tea. "Jethro, you're a fool."

Jimmy was also happy to hear from Tony. He hadn't heard about the mess yet as he'd taken a personal day to see his dentist. When Tony was done Jimmy told him. "I'm not the least bit surprised that your accounts were hacked. Abby did it and you and I both know it. So … have you called Dr Mallard yet?"

"Called him before you. He's setting up a standing date for supper for us. I … well, would you like to come too? I'll have to call him back and ask if it's ok. It'll be at his club."

"Oh, that would be great. I'm sure he won't mind, we've been meaning to set up a standing date, just the two of us. Call him then just text me … um … I've gotta go. I'm on call and just got a text."

"Ok. See you soon." Tony hung up then called Ducky who was delighted to include Jimmy. He also said he'd text him with details as soon as he had them.

After that, Tony settled at his desk to make a list of accounts that Abby had probably hacked. He was dismayed to realize that she'd probably cancelled his Dish, Netflix, Internet, all his utilities and he wasn't sure what all. He was beginning to get pissed when his phone went off again. It was his garage telling him that there had been an attempt to repossess his car. George was delighted to inform him that he'd claimed a mechanics lien on it which put the repo man in a temper. His chuckle made Tony laugh back. "Thanks, man, I really owe you. You all done with it?"

"I am. I can have it delivered?"

"Please." Tony gave him his address and added, "Just have the valet park it. Ask him to leave the keys at the desk. Send me a bill and I'll transfer funds."

"Ok. Have a nice day."

Tony eyed the beautiful view of the river for a moment then said, "I believe I will." He settled back in to unravel the mess Abby had made of his life.

It actually didn't take him that long. He called each company and reinstated his accounts, he didn't even have to do that with his online accounts, most of them had only been suspended as Tony hadn't answered the emails to affirm his cancellations. He spent most of the morning setting up better passwords and security protocols.

He was jerked out of his work by a knock on his door. He got up to answer it wondering who it could be.

It turned out that it was a bellboy with his grocery order. He let the man in, helped him put things away and handed him a twenty. "Here. Have a nice day."

"Oh, thank you, sir. I'll get to take my girlfriend out to lunch. If you need anything else you can ask for Brandon. I'll be glad to run errands for you any time."

"Ok. I'll remember. Oh! Shit! I have dry cleaning to pick up. I've got the ticket, is there any way I can get someone to go for it?"

"Sure. I'll go. They may call you to verify permission, do they have your number?"

"They do. Here's the ticket. How do I pay?"

Brandon grinned. "We'll just add it to your bill. See you in about …" he glanced at the address. "Oh … forty-five minutes or so." He hurried out the door with a casual wave over his shoulder.

Tony rubbed his face then decided to go out for lunch. He didn't feel like messing with any cooking.

Billi was happy to point out several restaurants within walking distance, her opinions of all of them were personal experience. She ended with the remark, "I don't think you'll like Le Posset. It's very … shi-shi, if you know what I mean. Tiny portions of weird stuff, snooty staff, itty-bitty tables with chairs that might fit a three-year-old. And they crowded so many tables in that you're cheek by jowl with strangers. I didn't like it, my fiancee hated it. Mom, the queen of snobs, said it was pretentious. If you take my advice you'll walk the four blocks to that Italian place. Mama Angelica's is really nice, good food, nice decor; a bit old country Italian but nice. And the servers are all real Italians, not someone just paid to put on a phony Italian accent."

Tony grinned. "I'll go there. My Italian is Sicilian but good. Any recommendations on what to get?"

"Let the server know if you have food allergies then just sit back and eat." Billi grinned, then trotted off calling, "Be right there." to the people at the desk.

Tony ambled out the door, glad he'd decided to bring his jacket. The air was down right cold, winter was just around the corner and the weather was due a change for the worse soon. Last night and the night before were just the start.

The walk to Mama Angelica's didn't take long and helped Tony work up an appetite. He entered through a cut corner door into a cheerful vestibule with a podium at the back. He signed in on the register for a table for one then sat down at the short bar to wait.

It wasn't long before someone showed up. "Hi! How are you today? I'm sorry … the bar isn't open until four, but you can have wine with your lunch."

"That's fine. I'd only have had a glass of wine anyway. So … what's good today?" He craned to get a look at her name tag which read Felicia

"We've got Veal Picatta with a side of steamed veg. Don't recommend that but ladies like it. The veal is ok but the veg is just … bland. There's also Shrimp in garlic and white wine sauce. That's good. I'd actually recommend just a nice side salad and garlic bread. But that's just me. So … here's your table. I'm sorry it's so near the kitchen but we only have four single tables and they're all at the back."

Tony gave an exaggerated sniff. "I'd rather sit near the kitchen than the front, get to smell what's cookin'" He settled in his chair then said, "I'll take the shrimp, salad and bread. Glass of house white … if it's good. I'll take your opinion on that."

"Our house white is very good. We have our own vineyards you see. Coffee?"

"No thanks. I'll consider coffee after I eat."

"Ok … shrimp in white wine sauce, salad … dressing?"

"Italian, of course."

Felicia nodded. "Of course. And garlic bread. On it's way. About twenty minutes."

"Grazie, Felicia. Non posso aspettare."

Felicia blinked, then asked, "Siciliano? O solo un oratore?"

Tony grinned, "Just a speaker. My grandparents were from Italy."

"Well, you have a very nice accent." Felicia walked back to the kitchen and Tony could hear her calling in Italian. "Hey, we got a speaker. Make it extra nice for him. And talk the language to him, he needs some practice."

She returned in a couple of minutes with a glass of wine and a small basket of bread sticks. "Here. Don't fill up on the bread sticks. I just brought them so you'd have something to sop up the wine." Tony was very pleased that she spoke Italian.

"Thank you. I have a fairly hard head but I appreciate it." Tony also spoke Italian. They all spoke the language for the rest of his meal.

Tony spent his five minute wait for his salad sipping his wine with an occasional nibble on a bread stick. He wasn't expecting salad yet so he said, "I thought salad came after."

Felicia nodded. "For dinner, or supper, it does. Lunch is more casual so it comes before. Take your time with it there's still about fifteen minutes before your main is done."

"Ok, thanks." Tony turned to his salad to find that it wasn't one of those American style things, all iceberg lettuce, soppy dressing and soft croutons. This was old fashioned Italian, made with spring greens, spinach, and bib lettuce ; covered with pitted olives, feta cheese, crunchy croutons, and slivered parmesan cheese; the dressing was simple Italian with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, and basil. He speared a bite then sighed as he chewed it. "Mio Dio."

"Nice isn't it?" Felicia turned and headed for the kitchen. "I'll give Ma your compliments."

Tony took his time with the salad. He alternated big bites with tiny sips of wine. It was delicious.

He was just finishing his salad when his main arrived. The whole dish was a wonder, tender jumbo shrimp carefully placed on a bed of paparadelli dressed with the sauce then more sauce poured over all, sprinkled with black pepper and topped with shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. Felicia took his glass replacing it with another, the lightly chilled wine made the glass sweat.

He was almost finished when his phone beeped. He'd put the ring tone on that simple sound so it wouldn't disturb the other diners.

"DiNozzo." Tony listened for a second then just hung up. Abby was on a tear but he didn't have to put up with it anymore. At one time he'd considered her to be one of his best friends, but she was turning into a spoiled prima donna and he didn't like it. If she wanted to be his friend, she was going to have to change her ways, apologize for her bad behavior, and quit stalking him.

He returned to his meal. Felicia checked in on him carrying a refill of garlic bread. "How is it?"

"Wonderful."

"I saw you frown a bit ago?" She made it a question.

"Someone I'm on the … outs with called. I didn't answer. She's too much of a bitch right now. It would have spoiled my meal. Next go around could I get an espresso?"

"I'm sorry your girlfriend is being horrible. Expresso with?"

"She's not my girlfriend, just a friend who happens to be a girl. And plain."

Felicia nodded. "Coming up."

When he finished and signaled her Felicia came to take away the dirty plate and bring his coffee, and a piece of Tiramisu. When he said he hadn't ordered it she just winked and said, "I know. Ma sent it. She's been listening to you speak. It's a reward for speaking so well."

"Well, thank you. Tell her thanks too."

Felicia smiled. "You go back an' tell her. She'll love you forever."

Tony grinned then returned to his coffee and sweet. It didn't take him long to finish both.

He eased out of his chair and sneaked into the kitchen, shaking his head at the boy who was about to question his presence. He knew he'd found Ma when he saw her. She was tiny, with grey hair, but she was vigorous, proven by the way she was kneading dough. He wrapped his arms around her and in his best Italian said, "So delicious, but how could it be anything else when cooked by such a lovely woman."

Ma squeaked then turned around and smacked him on the chest. "Boy! What are you doing? Scare a poor old woman into a fit."

"No. No old woman here, beautiful." Tony turned on the charm, grinning brightly.

"Bah! Silly thing." But Ma looked pleased, if a bit flustered. "You go on now. No customers in the kitchen. Shoo."

"Yes, Ma'am." He gave her another hug then skipped out of the way of her half-hearted swat.

He left the entire kitchen in giggles and went to pay his bill.

Felicia checked him out, scanned his card, and handed him the invoice to sign. "There. Thanks for talking to Ma. She misses Da something awful and you just made her day. All the other guys around here are cousins of one sort or another and scared to death of her. Here." She handed Tony a couple of mints. "For the garlic. Come back soon."

Tony popped a mint into his mouth then nodded. "I will."

.

He ambled back to his hotel, taking his time and window shopping. He stopped in at one place to get some shampoo, conditioner, and shaving soap. He wound up with a whole line of product from shaving soap, body wash, and shampoo/conditioner to cologne.

He got back to the hotel with two bags in hand and headed for the elevators, he was stopped by a call from Billi. "Oh! Mr DiNozzo. I need a moment."

He put his bags down on the floor in front of the desk. "Sure, what's up?"

"I need you to sign here for your dry cleaning. It's up in your suite already." She produced a tablet. "Sign by the red X"

Tony finger signed then added a tip for Brandon. "I really like Brandon. Smart. Polite. Accommodating."

"He's good. He's enrolled in a junior college and majoring in Hospitality. We're hoping to promote him from room attendant to front desk soon."

"Good. Well, if that's all?" Tony picked up his bags and made his way to his suite.

He took time to unpack, unwrap, and unseal everything before he put it all in its proper place. Then he braced himself to deal with the Dean.

The hiring process at Georgetown was so convoluted that Jenny had used a figurative machete to cut her way through the red tape. Tony was, on paper, tenured but in reality he needed the signature of both the Dean and President, he already had the signature of the Department of Cinematology which was a sub-department of the Arts Department.

He managed to get hold of both men's secretaries and make appointments for Monday and Tuesday. He hoped all he had to do was hand them the papers and get a signature. He started to settle in for a marathon of Magnum when he realized that he had a semester plan to turn in and he hadn't prepared. He swore, got up and settled at his desk to make an outline and start planning movies and lectures for the rest of the semester.

He spent the rest of the day working on lesson plans and lectures. It was just beginning to get dark when he closed his laptop and stretched. First thing tomorrow he was getting a new one, this one had crashed twice, loosing his unsaved work. He scratched his head, idly wondering when he'd bought it. He opened his computer then pulled up a document he aways kept, one with the computers history in it. When he'd bought it, when he'd upgraded, if it had gotten a virus. He blinked at the start up date; he couldn't believe that the thing was over three years old.

He used his old computer to find a local Apple store so he could get a new one. He was seriously considering ditching both Apple and Windows in favor of Linux but he wasn't sure how much nursing a Linux system would take. He was not as computer illiterate as McGee thought but he didn't like spending time messing with a fussy system. He decided against Windows as 10 was a nightmare of unstable subroutines and typical Windows 'make the customer beta' shit. He thought he might get a fairly powerful Mac then invest in a different computer to see how Linux worked for him.

He put getting a new computer on top of his to-do tomorrow list and got up to figure out some supper.

He finally made a panini of sour dough bread, Swiss cheese, genoa ham, and mustard. The press was simple, just a glorified waffle iron, but it did the job. He settled at the table with a hot sandwich and cold beer.

He was half-way through his sandwich when his phone rang. He'd re-adjusted his ringer so he knew it was Jenny by the ring tone. He didn't let her know that her assigned tone was The Imperial March from Star Wars.

"Jenny." He put his phone on speaker then dropped it on the table.

"What was that? Never mind. I got some calls from Georgetown. Now that you've resigned … I'll re-address that silliness at a later date … the powers that be want you on staff full time. They've already sent you a class schedule that is, frankly, a bit over powering. You have lectures on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. Thursday you have office hours from 3pm to 6pm. There's also a couple of virtual classes but I'm not sure how they're getting squeezed in. How are you going to keep up with your op with all those classes?"

Tony snorted. "You didn't worry about that when I was doing Tim's job, my job, all the reports, and running the op, which included the same class schedule, office hours and romancing Jeanne. Leave it all to me. I have a third the work load."

Jenny sounded embarrassed as she said, "Well, I am sorry. But I need regular updates on this. It needs to be completed soon."

"I'm working on it. Jeanne won't even be back in town until next Monday … I think. And do not suggest me following her to her conference, she's already said she doesn't need the distraction. So … I'm going to get a real office on campus, that'll make it easier for her to drop in on me … big plus. I'm also contemplating trying to find housing near campus which will put me closer to her circle of friends and acquaintances. Keep Abby away from my accounts and tell McGee that if he queers this op by hacking my phone, computer or anything else I will personally break his knees. Gibbs?"

"Jethro is sulking. I'll get McGee and Scuito to leave you alone. I understand that Abby actually tried to break into your apartment?"

"She did. I wasn't there. The heat is out, you know. I sent you an email with all the details. How much trouble is she in?"

"I'm not actually sure. I know she had to spend the night in jail, waiting for bail to be set. If she bothers you again let me know."

"Ok. Now, I have other work to do so I need to go. Good night."

He didn't wait for Jenny to say anything else, he just hung up, turned the phone off, and went back to the last of his food.

After he cleaned up from his meal, he turned the TV on to the Magnum, P.I. marathon and settled in to watch a couple of episodes before showering and going to bed.

He woke up in the middle of the night with a tight chest and a dry cough. He made a mental note to get his inhaler prescription refilled. He also decided to get back to running. He used to run like it was a religion and had breathed better for it. The last few months he'd been so busy he'd slacked off and was feeling it.

He grumbled a bit, rolled over and went back to sleep.

.

Morning came all too soon but Tony dragged himself out of bed, started the coffee maker then went to clean up. He'd showered before bed so all he did was shave, fix his hair and dress.

He settled at the breakfast bar that divided the galley kitchen from the small dining area and started sipping his coffee. While he jumpstarted his brain he decided that he needed to make a list of chores, he'd started one so he opened that file on his tablet. He added, get new computer and check sigs on contract, housing, and call Jeanne.

He decided on calling Jeannie right now. He dialed and listened to the phone ring until her voice mail picked up, "Jeanne, I need to talk to you. It's a bit on the urgent side so let me know A. S. A. P." He hung up without the usual "Kisskisshughug" and went on to call his Department Head Dr. Benjamin Aspacian.

He was passed on to him by his TA, who filled in for his secretary on Saturday mornings. Dr. Aspacian had morning office hours from 6am to 9am every other week. Tony lucked out that this week was office hours.

Dr. Aspacian was happy to hear from Tony. "Dr DiNardo, I'm so glad you decided to accept our offer of full time hours. What led to this?"

"I had a bit of a falling out at my other job so I quit. And it's actually DiNozzo. I tried to correct it but it's taking a bit of time. So … The semester re-starts in a week?" This was one of the reasons things were working out as well as they were, Georgetown was on mid-semester break.

"No. Monday. This week is off. I hope you have a better schedule planned."

"I do. No more of this showing a movie one day and discussing it the next. There's plenty of resources available to watch a movie on their own time. I expect them to have watched the assignment on their own time and be ready for discussion during class. I'll also record lectures for on-line watching but non-attendance will lower their grade significantly. I'll submit my lesson plans tomorrow."

"No hurry. As long as we have time to publish your book list."

"There isn't one. I've looked at everything available and none of it is worth setting on fire. I'll be publishing an on-line set of class notes as we go along. And it's copy-written, I might turn it into my own book. I'll have to look into locking it so no one can copy and paste it into a pirated work."

"See someone in the computer department about that. And … Welcome to the staff. Full time."

"While I've got you on the phone … I'm seriously looking at moving closer to campus, who should I talk to about a house?"

"I have no idea. I'll leave a note for Becky, she'll know. Now … I squeezed you in between two appointments so I've got to go."

"Thank you for your time. Good-bye."

Tony put his phone down on the table and rubbed his face. "Well, that went well." He was a bit startled that things seemed to be falling into place so easily. He was totally unaware that Jenny had literally blackmailed the Dean into signing off on Tony's tenure. It didn't hurt that he was the only professor of Cinematic History in town and Georgetown was adding a feather to their cap by allowing other colleges and universities in the area to attend his classes.

He finally got up and carried his last cup of coffee into his bedroom to decide what he was going to wear. He sighed then brightened, today he didn't need armor, he needed comfort. He dressed in a tight green long-sleeved henley, comfortable jeans and biker boots. After putting his cup in the dishwasher he snagged his bomber jacket and messenger bag and headed for a mall about six blocks away. He put the jacket on before he walked out into the hall, it wouldn't do to freak out some old lady or skittish preppie couple by flashing his shoulder holster. He'd had to turn in his NCIS issue but he had a carry permit and a sleek Glock.

He stopped at the front desk to tell Billi where he was going and why. She just nodded and advised him that, since he was going to that mall, he should stop at a small store on the ground floor before he went to the Apple store. "John is really good at this sort of thing. He'll send you to the right person. He might even close down and go with you. Take his advice, he has, like, three degrees in computer stuff."

"I hate to take him away from his business. But I'll go talk to him."

Billi grinned, "He won't mind. His Dad is a pain in the butt so John likes to get out of the shop anytime he can."

Tony walked the six blocks to the mall. He wasn't about to get his car out and try to drive. It was six blocks. He was surprised to see that it was only one story but when he entered he found that it was actually three stories which covered most of the block. The two additional stories were below ground. He checked the map, found the small shop where John worked and window shopped as he made his way to it.

He looked around for John and was greeted by a voice from the back room. "Be right out."

"Take your time. I'm here to see John?" Tony ambled to the back, looking at the various bits and pieces on display. He realized that this was a very upscale discrete repair shop.

"I'm John. I'll be out in a sec."

It was a bit more than a sec but not more than two minutes before a young man pushed the curtain aside and walked out into the space behind the counter. "Ok. What do you need?"

"Tony DiNozzo. Billi said you could help me pick out a computer?" Tony offered his hand. He liked the look of John, his ability to quickly assess a person said he was good people.

John shook Tony's hand then nodded at a counter. "I've got a few second hand ones that are still more than serviceable Just depends if you want new for show or just want something to get the job done."

Tony shook his head. "Don't really care about shiny new. I just need a good computer that won't crash and lose my work every five minutes. Here … take a look." Tony dumped his messenger bag on the counter.

John took the computer out of the bag and turned it on. It crashed before it even booted properly. "Well that's a bitch. When did it start doing that?"

"Just now. First time it's actually crashed on boot. It crashed about three times last night … lost everything after the last save. Pain in my ass."

"Well, I'm not even going to try to diagnose what the problem is. It's a waste of time and resources since you've decided to get a new one."

"I showed it to a co-worker about three months ago but Tim said it was beneath him to fool with it."

"Tim McGee?" Tony nodded. "He's got a big head. All he's this big shot Fed with a badge and a gun. And a book. I read the first one but … shee. It was a piece of shit." John shook his head. "I'll also say that he's behind the times like whoa. Bet he hasn't taken a class in at least a year."

Tony thought about that for a moment. "Is that bad?"

"It's bad. The industry moves so fast that a year can put you in the dark ages. I take a class every three or four months just to keep up. You ought to take some classes if you're going to be doing a lot with computers."

Tony held up a hand. "I'm a professor of Cinematic History and Film Arts. I probably don't need one."

"Film Arts? You need at least a firm understanding of CGI. There's a class at Georgetown that's starting next semester. Ought to at least audit it."

"That's a good idea. I don't need to know the details of how everything's done. All I do is look at the projects for content and visual appeal. I'll look into it. Now … computer." Tony easily guided them back to the subject of the visit, taking any sting out with a genial smile.

"Ok. What I'd like to do is check the hard drive. I've got a good idea what's wrong. Your mother board is fubar but I need to check to be sure. And I've got a couple of machines that I've taken via mechanics lean. If you don't pay, you don't get your machine back. Period. I'm tired of us going into the red because Pop has a soft heart and doesn't understand how much it costs to fix these things."

"Sounds good to me. I'm gonna get coffee. You want?" Tony was already more than ready to do business with John. He really didn't care whether his computer was Apple, Windows based or what; as long as it did what he needed and didn't blue screen him every ten minutes he was happy.

"I'd love. Pop has a doctors appointment and won't be in until late. Finally got him to go for a check up. I'll get you some money."

"Forget that. I can afford a cup of coffee. What do you want?"

"Plain, black, hot, big."

Tony laughed, waved over his shoulder and said, "You got it."

He was back in twenty minutes with a hazelnut late with whipped cream and chocolate shavings for himself and a large plain coffee for John.

"Ok. Coffee. And what can you tell me?"

"A bunch of technical jargon that just means intermittent mother board failure. So … I lined up the best of what I've got. Now … depending on how much cash you've got, there's several choices."

Tony waved a hand. "I can afford just about anything, justify your best pick to me."

John nodded. "Ok. This one. It's a gamers special. That means it can handle anything you throw at it. I picked it because you said you'd be watching videos a lot. This thing will loaf. It's also got a great hard drive, huge. And it comes with an external backup drive. It's $1,934.56. So?"

"If you think it's the best choice, I'll take it. Can you move my data?"

"Take about as long as it takes you to drink your coffee." He picked up the computer and his coffee and went into the back.

Tony wandered around for a bit, looking into cases at the odds and ends. He saw a real Rolex, a Cellini Moonphase with a slightly worn leather band. "Hey! How much for the Rolex?"

"It's a knock off. Pop priced it at a Benjamin. You want it?"

Tony fought himself for all of a second. "It's real and worth $26,750. Call your Pop and ask what he wants for it."

John came out. "Ok. I'm just waiting on your files to download." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed. "Hey, Pop. Got a guy here who wants that Rolex with the moon on it. He says It's real." He listened for a moment then said, "Don't know. Let me look at the sticker." He opened the case and took out the watch. There was a sticker on the back which he read. "Ok. Says fifty."

Tony winced. He didn't want to cheat these people but it seemed that Pop had either screwed someone over or none of them knew what they had. So Tony said, "Let me talk to him please."

John handed him the phone. "Sir, I know my Rolex watches and that's an older Moonphase, it cost 26K plus new. I feel really bad taking it for a hundred dollars."

Pop replied, "Look I got it in a box of junk from a guy who was cleaning out his grandmother's house. You pay what I ask. Ok? Look I gotta go, the nurse is calling my name." And with than he hung up.

Tony handed John back his phone. "I'll take it but I'm paying … a nice price. You name it with the knowledge of what it's worth."

John nodded. "Ok. you say it's real, Pop says knockoff. I don't know and don't care one way or the other. Give me five hundred for it and neither one of us feels guilty. Now… that data should be done transferring so I'll go check on that." He picked up the watch and carried it to the counter, put it down behind the register and went into the back.

He was back out in about five minutes. "Great. Perfect download. All your programs moved like a charm and none of your data was corrupted. So."

Tony just handed over his credit card. "Just charge it."

John ran the card then just put Tony's new computer into his messenger bag. He started to put the watch in too but Tony stopped him. "I'll wear it, thank you. And you can have my old computer for parts."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I feel like I can trust you. Just triple wipe the hard drive. I'm really not comfortable trying to keep track of it. I'm moving soon and life is going to get hectic."

"Ok. I'll take care of it. Hope you like that watch."

Tony glanced down at the Rolex a bit guiltily. "I will. I destroyed my old watch on a job a week ago and this is the first time I've had time to get a new one. I hate using my phone for a watch."

John snorted in amusement. "That's because you old geezers are stuck in the past."

Tony grinned back. "Can't help it that you young whipper-snappers can't read analog."

John offered his hand. "Thanks for your business. If you have any problems please come back. I gave you a year free warranty."

"Thanks. I really appreciate that. Bye." Tony shouldered his bag and walked out.

He glanced around then decided to window shop for a bit. He needed a few things and had the whole day to take advantage of the mall.

He spent most of the rest of the morning shopping for some clothing to replace pieces that had been destroyed on the job. He considered a new suit but discarded that idea. He didn't really need another suit, what he really needed was something more in line with his new job of professor. He finally found a men's wear store that he considered acceptable and ambled in for a sports jacket.

He was treated to a display of snobbishness that made him grit his teeth.

"I do believe you've wandered into the wrong store … sir."

Tony shrugged, "Might have. I need a sport jacket. I have a lecture series and I'm not sure Armani is the impression I want to give. Maybe something Botany 500?"

The clerk just pointed. "There."

"Thanks." Tony found two jackets that he liked. One was something that Ducky would love; Donegal tweed in a forest green with gold and orange flecks, leather elbows and buttons. The other was brown with snuff and green flecks and horn buttons. "I like both of these."

Again the clerk pointed. "Register."

"Self-serve?" Tony was a bit doubtful of that but quite happy to scan his purchases himself. "Ok." He scanned his jackets, bagged them himself, taking a hanging bag and keeping the commercial hangers. He stuck his card into the reader, let the chip do it's thing and took his receipt. He smirked as the tip window had popped up but he'd tapped $0. He wasn't going to tip someone who only pointed at things. He juggled his bag and the suit protector until he had them in a comfortable configuration and headed back for the hotel.

.

Tony was glad he'd gotten to his room before his phone started blowing up. Abby called, then Tim; he refused both calls. Jimmy called just to see how he was doing and tell him that Abby was having fits, Gibbs was still sulking and saying that Tony would come back. Jenny was tight lipped and stonily silent. He, Jimmy, and Ducky were both staying in Autopsy and refusing to comment to anyone. Tony told him he was fine and to give Ducky his best. Jimmy hung up with a cheerful, "Ok. Just remember that we've got your back. Bye."

Jenny was last to call, only to be told that no, Jeanne hadn't called and still wasn't going to be back early. Yes, he was now instated as full time, his department head was delighted. He listened with as much patience as he could manage while Jenny babbled about how this would put NCIS on the map, she wanted this bust. La Grenouille needed to be brought in, dead or alive. She nearly whined about him not contacting Jeanne. He finally put the phone on speaker and went to make some lunch. He wondered why he was putting up with this then realized that he shouldn't. "Jenny. I'm sorry you don't like the way this is going but do remember … I quit. And I meant it. HR has processed the paper work. I'm only doing this as a personal favor to you. But, if you keep nagging me about this …" he was interrupted by another whine along the lines of you can't quit on me. He just disconnected the call then blocked the number.

"Fuck that shit. I'm only waiting to break up with Jeanne until she comes back because I don't want to try to explain this over the phone." He made a turkey, lettuce, tomato, and pickle sandwich with plenty of mayo and sat down to go over his new computer. He wished he could go home and play his piano.

He decided to go down to the bar in the front of the hotel restaurant. It had four stars on GoodEats so it couldn't be horrible. Maybe they even had a piano.

He was delighted to find out that they did have a piano and, if he didn't drink, he could play it until customers complained. The bar wasn't that busy at lunch time, only a few jaded businessmen drinking their lunch so he settled in to play some easy listening jazz.

He lost himself in his music and played for quite some time. He ended his impromptu concert when the bartender told him they were closing up for set up for the late rush. He apologized but the bartender waved it off, saying, "That's ok, man. We all enjoyed it a lot. If you ever need a real job, give us a call. I'll put in a good word for you."

Tony shook his head. "Thanks but, no thanks. I'll drop in from time to time and play while I'm living here, if you don't mind."

"Don't mind. Music soothes the savage drunk, you know. The tips were really good. I'll have your share for you in a moment."

Tony grinned, "Thanks. But I don't really need it, I'm actually loaded. You split my share amongst you." He closed the piano and got up. "If you take my advice you'll lock that. The keys were sticky, I had to wipe them off. Locking it will keep wanna be players from insulting your ears with endless rounds of chopsticks."

"Good idea. We've got a peg board behind the bar. I'll just hang them there." He turned to lock up the piano, when he turned back to ask if Tony was sure about the tips he was out the door. "Well, thanks, man."

Tony returned to his room, soothed by the hours playing piano.

He worked on his lecture notes and syllabus. He kept a copy of his class schedule at hand so he could note the dates when he wanted to deliver each lecture and when to assign outside work as well as when it would be due. He worked on that well into the evening, finally closing down when he started yawning.

He took a shower then settled in to watch TV for a bit before going to bed and sleeping through the night.

The next morning saw him up and ready for the day in less than fifteen minutes. It didn't take him long to shave and fix his hair. He coughed several times so he fished his prescription out of his wallet and put it under the wallet on the counter top. He made his coffee but while it was making he called down to the front desk. Billi answered so he just asked if there was any way he could get his prescription filled, perhaps Brandon could run it for him?

Billi was solicitous at once. "Oh, prescription? You aren't sick, are you? If you are, we have a house physician who is more than competent. I can call him and have him give you a quick checkup in your suite."

"No need. I have a dry cough, result of pneumonia several years ago. I just need my inhaler refilled. If Brandon could run the script to a pharmacy, that'd be good. Or tell me where one is and I'll get it myself."

Billi gave a relieved sigh. "I'm so glad you're not ill. I'll send Brandon right up to get the prescription. Is there anything else you need?"

Tony, who had marveled at the selection of juices, smoothies and other drinks in the fridge and mini bar, said, "No. I've got everything I need. I have lecture and class notes to do before the midterm is over so I'll be doing that all day. While I have you on the line … is there a gym?"

"Yes, sir. It's behind the Grand Ballroom. Take the elevator to B1 then turn right, then left at the T-intersection. It's the first door on your left. The next one down is the pool. There's usually a trainer on site, if there isn't please be aware that we're not responsible for any accidents that occur if you use equipment or swim alone." She giggled. "I know you're smarter than that but corporate insists we inform all guest not to do silly things. Brandon will be knocking on your door just about now. Bye."

Tony chuckled at Billi then went to open the door for Brandon, scrip in hand. He handed Brandon the bit of paper folded up with a twenty and said, "Here. Just add the scrip to my bill, ok?"

"Sure thing. I hope it's nothing serious." Brandon gave Tony a sharp look.

"No. I've just worn myself out trying to keep up with a thankless job, which I quit. Now I'm paying for it with a dry cough and some breathing problems. The inhaler will take care of it. I need to get back to running, improves my lung capacity and efficiency."

Brandon took the paper, nodded then headed off for the elevator. "Hour, tops."

Tony decided to wait on his medicine before he did anything else. He had a bunch of emails to deal with so he started on them.

He was annoyed to find his inbox clogged with junk mail adverts for everything from Viagra to hair growing schemes. He grumbled, "Abby, damn it." and started deleting things. He used a filter to sort and batch delete ads and got it down from over 2000 to just over 150. He then resorted the results by sender. The mail from Ziva was all of the nastier, demeaning sort that she'd started sending after Gibbs came back. She was an expert in the subtile and not so subtile dig. Tim had sent over 20 passive aggressive 'I don't like the way you ignore me' sort of things along with some complaints that Tony didn't even give him a finders fee for getting him into his accounts. He wondered if Tim had hacked his bank or something. Gibbs had sent him one email that said, "Sorry. I was an ass. My door is always open to you. Don't let Jenny talk you into anything." Jenny had sent nearly 50 mails demanding intel on 'the Benoit' op. He also had three chatty emails from Jeanne about what she was doing at the conference. He got a funny feeling about that, the tone was off somehow.

He sent Ziva one email that told her he was blocking her and she was not to circumvent the block or she'd hear from his lawyers. Tim got one email telling him he was being passive aggressive and needed to get over it. Then another that said if he wanted a finders fee send him a bill.

Gibbs got a mail that said simply, "Still mad."

He was really pissed at Jenny so he spammed her email using a bot that Tim had written. All the mail was the same, "I'm working on it. Stop emailing me."

He thought about not mailing Jeanne but finally sent, "Miss you." Which was actually true.

He was distracted by a knock on the door and Brandon's voice calling, "Mr DiNozzo? I've got your inhaler."

Tony went to the door, calling, "Be right there."

He opened the door to see Brandon's smiling face. "Here you go. The Pharmacist said you should use it immediately. Hope you feel better soon."

Tony nodded. "Thanks." He tried to tip Brandon again but he refused it saying a twenty was more than enough.

Tony took the bag to the kitchen and ripped it open. He tossed the bag as he shook the inhaler, one hit and he felt much better. He read the brochure to be sure he was using it properly and realized that the recommended dose was two sprays five minutes apart two doses a day for ten days then one for another ten. After that it was as needed.

He contemplated calling Dr Pitt but decided to wait and see how he felt.

He took his second dose then put the inhaler in his pocket. A glance at his new watch told him that his next dose was due in the middle of the night so he decided on 8am and 8pm as his schedule.

He took several deep breaths, decided that he was good for a run so he went into his bedroom to find his jogging clothes. It didn't take him long as he'd unpacked for himself so he knew where things were. He could never understand the thing of allowing someone else to unpack for you, how would you ever find anything? He decided on a pair of NCIS athletic shorts and a worn thin white t-shirt.

He put his key in his wallet then tucked that into the only pocket on the shorts.

.

It wasn't hard to find the gym, there were signs all over the place. What he found wasn't a pokey, dark room crammed into some convenient, to the hotel, corner. This was a very upscale, clean, well lit room with all the proper machines which were placed a good distance apart. Tony examined the treadmill with interest.

"Don't jump." But Tony did. "Sorry. Can I help you? Or do you know how it works?"

"Help. I have no idea how to set this up. I just want a standard flat run."

"Ok. My name is Jeff. If you need anything just yell for me. So … " Jeff walked Tony through setting up the treadmill and getting started.

Tony had agreed to a standard track with a slow increase in speed to his preferred pace then a cool down. Jeff ended his instruction by saying, "It'll beep three times then stop. It's not sudden but you do need a bit of warning. I've set it for half mile warm up, a mile run, and a quarter mile cool down. If you feel stressed at any point just pull the tab and it'll slow down and stop. It'll also signal me in my office. If you want me, either yell or push the yellow button. Have a good run." Jeff walked off with a quick wave.

Tony got on the tread mill and pushed the green start button. He was hoping for a bit longer run but decided to go with the flow for now and see how it went. He hit his stride the second the warmup was done, the treadmill sped up slowly until he was running at his preferred pace and it felt good.

He realized half way through his mile that it wasn't going to be enough. "Jeff!"

Jeff popped out of his office. "Yeah? Problem?"

"Not really. Just … how do I add to my distance? A mile isn't doing to do it."

Jeff poked at the control pad for a moment. "Ok. um … how many miles are you used to running?"

"Six to ten. But I've missed workouts for a while due to work. I'd like to add two miles."

Jeff showed him how to change his distance while saying, "Six to ten? Wow. You run like it's a religion or something."

"I've got lung problems due to illness. Dr Pitt, my pulmonologist, advised keeping lung function up by running and swimming. He's gonna be pissed at me for missing out so much."

"Ok. I'm gonna keep an extra good eye on you for a bit." And with that Jeff just settled to sit on a nearby machine.

Tony really hit his stride at the end of the second mile, he considered adding more miles but decided not to, he did have Jeff add another quarter mile to his cool down.

Jeff, satisfied that Tony wasn't going to over do and collapse, went back to his office.

When the treadmill finally stopped, Tony got off, picked up a towel and dried his face and neck. He went to the office door to tell Jeff he was leaving. Jeff looked up from something he was reading and said, "Leaving? Ok. Drink plenty of fluids and rest a bit. Have a nice day."

Tony nodded. "You too."

His path led him past the bar where someone was playing rather badly. He winced as the woman hit a particularly bad clanker. He was glad it was early and the bar was still closed. He escaped the noise by entering the elevator. He was in desperate need of a shower and clothing that wasn't sweat soaked.

He luxuriated in the enormous shower with its multiple heads and computerized temperature control and massage settings. He also loved the towel warmer. He just wished he'd known about the shaving cream heater before he'd bought a can that wouldn't fit it. He'd finally tossed it and had Brandon get him one that did fit.

A glance at his watch said it was nearly 10am. His stomach growled reminding him that he hadn't eaten breakfast. Brunch sounded good so he dug out the makings for sausage and egg biscuits and had biscuits baking in short order. He timed it carefully so he had the eggs and sausage ready by the time the biscuits were baked. He'd made enough to have three now and three later. He wrapped the supper biscuits in paper towels then put them on a plate which he covered with foil. Now all he had to do was take the foil off the plate, split the biscuits and toast them while he warmed the sausage and cooked the eggs in the microwave.

He settled at his desk with his food and munched while he finished his lectures and movie schedules. He finished around 2pm and emailed the whole thing to his department head for approval. He got back an approval notice while he was printing out all the files. He saved the email then printed it out.

He was just finishing up when his email binged for an incoming mail. He opened it and was disgusted to see a definite threat. Abby was threatening to remotely wipe his computer if he didn't withdraw his resignation. He just CC:'ed it to Jenny with a simple, "If she does this, I'll sue you personally, Abby personally, and NCIS. Get her under control." He rummaged around in his messenger bag to find his USB flash drive. It was a 128G and perfectly capable of holding all his stored data so he just set it up to backup everything. Tim had talked him into getting it but he'd never bothered to use it as there wasn't much on his personal computer than he was worried about losing, all his important work data was on his work computer. He used his personal computer for games, net surfing, and emails.

Another email came in from Jenny. She was obviously upset at Tony's threat but said she realized that he was right and Abby was completely out of control. She, Jenny, had spoken to her on Friday but hadn't checked in on her as it was the weekend. She'd have a real talk with her on Monday — and how was the op coming?

Tony shook his head. Jenny was completely obsessed with this thing. He wondered what it was really about but decided he really didn't care as he was ending it by telling Jeanne the truth about the whole thing.

He sent an email to Gibbs telling him about Abby and asking him to see what he could do with her. Then he sent a warning to Tim not to fall victim to Abby's plans. He was pissed at him but didn't want him to ruin his career by doing something stupid. Ziva he ignored, he'd blocked her and she hadn't managed to find a way around it, or hadn't cared enough to do so. He really didn't care which, he laid most of the problems in the MCRT at her feet. She'd been driving wedges between Tony and his coworkers for years. She'd succeeded but she hadn't won much.

The email from Gibbs was simple and straight forward. "Abby's on my shit list. Tim is too. MCRT won't be the same without you. Call me."

Tony thought about that but realized that he was still too pissed to deal with Gibbs' usual attitude.

After cleaning up his plate and policing the kitchen he decided to just take some time to veg out. He knew he'd been doing a lot of that lately but he was physically and mentally worn down and just needed to recharge. He knew he was going to be running around like mad, or like a chicken with it's head cut off, as Ducky would say, so he was taking down time now while he had a chance. He spent the afternoon and evening channel surfing, eating his supper and thinking.

.

He spend Sunday reviewing his notes and adding comments. He took a good run on the treadmill, impressing Jeff with his quick progress. He also went through his wardrobe and put some things out for dry cleaning or laundry. He made a few notes about other pieces he needed to add. He knew he was going to be busy as all hell for the next couple of weeks and he didn't want to be distracted by missing clothing. He decided on a shopping trip late in the week.

Monday saw him up early for a run, use his inhaler, shower, breakfast, and a call to Clark. Clark said, "Bring coffee and be prepared to stay awhile."

So Tony got coffee and pastries then arrived at the office at 9:30am as agreed.

Clark greeted him at the front desk with their fraternity handshake, they didn't bother to call it secret as everyone who'd ever been in the frat knew it. "Tony! Lookin' good, brother."

"Feelin' better. I never realized what a strain that job was until I quit. So … Senior showed up yet?"

Clark took his coffee, handed the box of pastries off to an aid then said, "No. But I expect to hear from that shyster Holmes any day now." He pointed to a chair beside his desk. "Sit."

"Thanks. What are you going to do about him?"

"Not much. He's well on the way to being disbarred, we're actually hoping he'll pull some stunt or other so we can complete the process. And I want an accounting firm to go over all the accounts with an eye to embezzlement, or any other misfeasance, malfeasance, or fraud. The Ol' Man is slick as gun oil."

Tony sighed. "Well, shit. So what's first on the agenda?"

"Your retirement from Baltimore, then NCIS. After that distribution of assets. We've got to move them around some to make sure everything is insured, invested to best advantage, and protected from … poachers." He handed Tony some papers then sat back to drink his coffee while Tony read.

Tony barely understood half of what he read but he did make notes of questions. Finally he handed the whole mess back and said, "I've trusted you for years and you've never let me down. I'm gonna trust you to make the best decisions, explain them to me, then carry them out. Do what you gotta. All I want to know is how much I've got a month, can I afford to buy a house and a new car, and how do we get Senior off my back permanently?"

"Ok. Well. Properly invested your principle will yield about 20%, that's at premium rates. I can get you that but most of your investments will be out of country. I don't see a problem with that and I'll make sure that all the proper taxes are paid. So you'll have approximately two million dollars a month less taxes so around a mill and a half spendable income."

Tony felt stunned. He'd never even made that much a year. "Um … give me a sec. That's a … hell of a wad of cash. What the actual fuck?"

Clark nodded. "I'd advise taking a great deal less as personal income and putting the rest in a savings account until you have a certain amount there then investing or buying a CD. I'll keep an eye on the market and see how stocks are doing. Don't worry about it. Just spend what you want until I tell you to slow down."

Tony nodded. "Ok. Um …. think I might need a new credit card. I've been using one that the hotel made me to replace the one Abby messed with. I want a different checking account and maybe a debit card. My car is not paid for so can you take care of that? And I need a house near Georgetown campus. I … this goes no farther." Clark nodded so Tony told him all about the professorship, Jeanne, Jenny and her ridiculous off the books operation. He ended, "And so I'm going to come clean to Jeanne and tell her about her father. Not lookin' forward to that, I can tell you. But it's not fair to her to leave her in the dark about Benoit and his business. It leaves her too vulnerable to manipulation. And I'm keeping the professorship, I like the subject and enjoy sharing with other interested people. Not sure how long it'll last but I'll enjoy it while I can."

Clark smiled. "Only you. Ton, I swear, you get involved in the damndest things. But … not my circus, not my monkeys. As to a house. What sort? Car? Again, what sort?"

"House. Close to campus, at least two bedrooms, preferably three. Library, place for my piano, office, media room. Nice kitchen, I'll give up the media room for a kitchen. Car? Lexus? Something good sized, Mafia trunk, fast but steady."

"Well, I can get you anything you want, Ferrari, Lamborghini …" He grinned as Tony began shaking his head. "No? Didn't think so. Lexus? Saturn? I know you want a sedan; not an SUV, or a minivan. Might look at a MiniHummer. Or a four wheel drive truck of some sort."

Tony frowned as he went over the advantages and disadvantages of each. "No Ferrari or Lamborghini, I'm secure in my manhood, thank you. SUV? Not my style. MiniHummer, don't want to look like a Schwarzenegger wanna be, and they're not that much better than a minivan. Truck? Not my style either. So a good Lexus or a Saturn. Four door, big trunk, lots of head and leg room. No weird colors. Black, gun metal, dark blue, dark green; interior should be … not white."

Clark seemed to think nothing of having Tony ask him to buy a car or a house.

"Ok, got it. I'll call Cherry Mills and … Um … not sure who for a car. There's a couple of places that I like but they're very pushy. I know you hate being poked at but Doug is really good. He's also a brother, about four .. five years behind us but still. I'll give him a warning and hope for the best." He made a couple of calls while Tony read yet another contract.

It was late, nearly two before they got done. Clark gathered up the last of the papers and then asked, "Didn't you have a meeting with some … university guy?"

Tony nodded. "I do. Three, so I better get out of here. Uber?"

"I'll call one of our cars and a driver."

"Thanks." Tony offered his hand which Clark grasped in a simple handshake.

"Get out of here and let me do my job."

"Heh, you're gonna go have late lunch."

"That too."

Tony left, taking an elevator to the garage floor where a driver with an old fashioned London Cab was waiting for him. It was a signature of the law firm to use the decommissioned cabs. Tony liked them, the leg room was amazing and the head room let him wear a hat, not that he would, and not brush the ceiling even at his height of 6'2".

The driver held the door open then got into the drivers seat. "Where to sir?"

Tony gave him the address then settled back to worry all through the drive. There was still the chance that this would all fall apart. He really hoped it didn't, he wanted this job.

He was dropped off at the front of the Administration Building where Dr Aspacian had his office. He walked into the office and smiled at the receptionist. "Dr. DiNozzo to see Dr Aspacian. Thank you."

Tanya nodded. "He'll see you in a minute. While you're here there is some confusion over your name. Is it DiNardo or DiNozzo?"

"It's DiNozzo. I'm sure the secretary at my old job mixed up something somewhere. Could you see that it's all straightened out? I'd really appreciate it." He gave her his best flirtatious smile.

"Oh, put that away. I'm immune." But Tanya smiled and started fixing things. She fiddled for a bit then said, "I think the guy who put your bio on our staff page couldn't type. Some guy named McGee."

Tony snickered. "He's … a bit on the jealous side. Can't stand it when someone does better than he does." Tony realized as he said it that it was unfortunately true, Tim really hated it when someone did better than he did and Ziva poked that bruise at every opportunity.

"Well, Mr McGee better watch it. I don't care if he's the Grand Poo-Bah of NCIS, this isn't the way things are done. Now. That's all fixed. I've found you an office and a TA. You still need a secretary but I'll let you pick from the ladies available."

There was a soft click and Dr Aspacian's voice came over the intercom telling Tanya to send Tony in. She looked up from writing a note. "Well? You heard the man, go in. Stop by here after you're done and I'll give you directions to your office and written introductions to your staff."

Dr Aspacian stood and reached across his desk to shake Tony's hand. "Ok, this undercover stuff … what's going on with it?" He pointed to a chair and said, "Sit down and explain things."

Tony sighed, "Nothing. I'm closing the op down. I found out from a blabbermouth that it's not sanctioned. I won't be involved with an off the books op, especially one where my only back up is … not. I didn't realize that Jenny was going to be my only back up. I assumed, and you know what that does, that she would roll me over to another handler when she was out of touch. She didn't so I started asking some very discrete questions and wasn't too pleased with the answers. I was going to speak to her about it but … This goes no farther." Dr Aspacian nodded. "My immediate superior slapped me in the face. I tolerated other physical … reprimands but that, combined with other things, was the straw. I resigned. Now, I love this job. Movies are sort of somewhere between a passion and an obsession. So I'm hoping that I've really got a position here."

"You do. Jenny called in some favors and I did a bit of a hard sell to a couple of fence straddlers. The Board of Governors, President and I have all agreed that you have a job for as long as you want it. The pay isn't the greatest but it's a full professorship. We'll see about a raise in a couple of years. Also, your student load is going to be … huge. There's 23 colleges and universities. 18 of them have some form of cinema school, from technical aspects like CGI to writing scripts and financial aspects. I'm sure you know a great deal more about that than I do. But, many of them want to send students to your lectures so we've arranged for some reciprocity. This benefits more than the Arts Department. We're all very pleased with this. So … Tanya will have the full details but to sum it up. You'll have larger lecture classes, more students. You'll also need to make arrangements with audio visual to show your movies."

Tony held up a hand. "No, I won't. All movies are homework assignments. History classes, english classes, etc. all assign outside reading. Like, Read chapter 21 for next lecture. I'll assign movies to be watched on their study time. There's very little literature available for this subject just now so I'll be writing reading assignments myself, and they're copy-written, I'll be combining them into a book. If the students have trouble finding a movie I'll try to get it uploaded to the local server for them to stream. I'll need some help with that I think."

"Well, it does look like you've got everything well in hand. On to other business, I hear you want a house near campus?"

"I do. I'm living in a poky little apartment with a very annoying Tenants Association. I play piano and practice to relax. I'm more than a little tired of having someone bang on my door at 6pm and claim that people are trying to sleep. There's no children in the building young enough to have a bedtime that early and no day sleepers. So, no idea what the problem is and don't really care. I want a house."

"I see. Well. I do recommend Wells, Taft, and Bascom as realtors. They're very good, very discreet and will stay within your budget."

Tony shook his head. "My financial advisor is taking care of finding some places for me to look over. Cherry Mills is doing the actual job."

"Mills? She's very expensive. Very, very good, but expensive. You sure?"

Tony couldn't help a bit of a satisfied smirk. "I am. I came into a bit of an inheritance. I'm spending part of it on a house." He glanced at his watch. "If there's nothing else, I've taken up enough of your time."

"Nothing I can think of. I'll call if I do. Now …" He produced a new contract. "This is your new contract. Take it with you. Have your lawyer go over it. Bring it back before next Monday." Dr Aspacian handed Tony the contract then escorted him to the door. "I expect you to be happy here. If you're not, let me know."

They shook hands and the Director returned to his office. Tanya just grinned, handed him some more papers then pointed.

"Go down that hall three doors, door on the left says, "Media Department. You'll be sharing your office space with two others. You don't share a secretary just a receptionist. Your secretary and TA have space in your … suite of offices. In other words, there's a main waiting area and your office has a small front room for your secretary and TA and you have a larger back room for your office. And believe me when I say, they are tiny. Now shoo."

Tony followed directions to the office and found himself in a very nice Mid-Victorian style office. The door led straight into a reception room about a third blocked by the receptionists desk. The lady behind the desk was a middle aged woman in classic business dress of charcoal dress pants and a silk blouse with a large bow, her jacket was neatly hung on a hanger on the wall nearby. "Good afternoon, how may I help you?"

"Tony DiNozzo. My office is here, somewhere." He handed her his papers with a smile. No flirting here, he could tell she wouldn't tolerate it and he didn't want to start out on the wrong foot.

"Yes. Tanya called me. You'll have the middle office. I've already cleared out the squatters. Now, I have a short questionnaire … things I need to know to keep the office efficient."

Ok. I can do that. Is my secretary in? Or my TA?" Tony took his fountain pen from his inside jacket pocket and waited for his answer.

"No. I haven't chosen them yet. I'll present you with three applicants for each position, it's up to you to chose. The questionnaire will help me decide. I'll handle all your secretarial needs until the position is filled."

"Ok. What's your name?"

"Kiran Grey. You may call me Miss Grey. If I decide I like you … you might call me Kiran."

"Well, thank you. You can call me Tony … or Professor DiNozzo. Whichever you're more comfortable with."

"Thank you, Professor. Now … Write." She pointed to the pages in his hand with a slight smile.

Tony opened the door to his office and smiled. It was the same Mid-Victorian style as the outer office, heavy dark paneling, dark chair rail, oxblood colored leather covered furniture. The small secretary's office had three wingback chairs with attendant pie-crust occasional tables, a secretary desk that completely blocked the door to the inner office. He opened the door to his office and was delighted to find that it boasted a huge desk, several glass fronted lawyers bookcases and a small sitting area that contained one wingback chair, a foot stool, and a larger piecrust table. He loved it.

Tony settled at the desk to fill out the questionnaire. It wasn't hard, most of the questions asked about things like coffee or tea, bagel or pastry, written memo or verbal reminder. Did he write short-hand or use a dictaphone. Yes, he wrote short-hand but he preferred a dictaphone, voice mail, or something similar. After he was done with the questionnaire he added a couple of notes. He drank coffee before noon but tea, English Breakfast or Irish Blend, after noon. And a couple of other notes.

"Here you go. I'll be available by phone so just call me when you schedule the interviews. I'm also house hunting but should be able to get in with in the hour. Now. I'm going to wander campus to find my lecture hall. Do I have a class room or just the hall."

"Just the hall. It's easier to just have smaller classes move to the front of the room. The hall you're in has accordion dividers that pull across the room to cut off the tiers. There are three. You also ought to stop by the Security Office and get your ID. You'll need it to open certain doors."

"Thank you. See you tomorrow."

"You're welcome."

Tony exited the building, found a campus map, and located the Security Building. It didn't take him long to register his carry permit, show them his void NCIS ID as proof that he'd had training, and collect his ID. The office didn't have a front desk, just a chubby, elderly man who took care of dispatch and schedules. The ID was already made up so Tony just took it with thanks and left.

He took time to call Cherry and check in. She said she would have a couple of places lined up by tomorrow.

Since it was fairly early Tony went back to the hotel with plans to spend the evening playing the bar piano.

.

Jenny Shepard was just tired, she had another headache, it had to be stress. Her best agent had quit in a snit, her chief forensicist, Abby, was on a rampage, Gibbs was sulking and Tim was flinching at every loud noise. Ziva was amused and scornful of the whole thing. She just hoped that Tony's ruse held. She knew Gibbs could keep up the illusion as long as necessary. She was just waiting for Abby to come to her office so she could have words with her. Getting arrested for making a disturbance in Tony's apartment building was a huge black mark in her record.

It wasn't long before Abby stomped in, without knocking, and flopped into the chair Jenny pointed to.

"You tell Tony he has to come back to work right now."

"Abby, you do not stomp into my office, flop down like a beached fish and give me orders. I give you orders and here they are. Stop harassing DiNozzo. He quit. Period, end of report. If you harass him too much, he might not come back. We need to give him a cooling off period. I'll process his papers after he's out of paid leave, vacation, and sick leave; just like I did for Jethro. And do not let Ziva egg Tim into doing something … unfortunate. All of you leave Tony alone or be real friends. I'm sure you will realize what damage you're doing to an already shaky relationship by acting a fool." Abby started to say something but Jenny cut her off. "I'm not in the mood for pouting, tantrums, or whining. I have a killer headache and I don't need it exacerbated by you having a screaming tizzy. If you have anything to say, say it quietly and with respect." Jenny gave Abby a steely eyed glare that dared her to yell once.

Abby blinked, sniffled then whined, "But I want him back. Now. I miss him."

Jenny vowed to have words with Ducky and Jethro. Abby was a sweet soul but they'd spoiled her, much to her detriment. "I notice that you haven't said a word about what Tony wants. I think you ought to got back to your office and think about yourself. Perhaps speak to the nuns. Good day."

Abby called Ziva, who said she'd sneak in, then caught Tim, who'd gotten permission to come in to get a few things he owned and didn't want to leave in the bullpen, and dragged him back to her lab. She wasn't sure what was going on but she was going to know before the day was over.

Tim left the second he realized that Abby wanted them to actually break into Tony's apartment and search it. He thought about it for a moment then decided to send Gibbs an email, completely forgetting that Gibbs only checked his emails immediately after arriving in the bullpen or when he was told to do so. Tim went home immediately after this. It wasn't even noon yet so he went straight home and locked his door, putting a chair under the knob to foil any lock picking attempts.

Gibbs was in MTAC and looked like he'd be there the rest of the day. Jenny had him coordinating a raid on some gun runners who seemed to be involved with La Grenouille somehow. He wouldn't see Tim's email until it was way too late. He wouldn't have done anything about it anyway. He'd warned Tim, Abby, and Ziva to leave Tony alone. He'd told Jenny flatly, 'Not my circus, not my monkeys' unconsciously repeating Clark's words to Tony, and he meant it.

After Tim walked out on them Ziva and Abby put their heads together and came up with a half-baked plan. They'd go to Tony's place and badger him into returning to NCIS. If he wasn't home, they'd search the place. Ziva wanted to just to nose into his business, Abby wanted to because that's what you did, right? You searched the place for clues. What the clues were supposed to lead to Abby didn't think about.

Jenny had no idea what Ziva and Abby were up to, Tim was too scared of Gibbs, still, to jump the chain of command.

So Ziva picked the lock on Tony's apartment door and she and Abby went in to search for clues as to what Tony was doing.

Tony being the paranoid undercover that he was, had all the papers he had on the Benoit operation in a hidden safe. It took Ziva nearly twenty minutes to find it and another fifteen to get it open.

Abby hadn't limited herself to searching the kitchen, she searched the freezer, putting all the frozen foods on the counter tops. She also searched the bathroom, emptying several bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash into the tub. Luckily, they were bottles of things that Tony had bought then stored as he disliked them for one reason or another. She took the top off the toilet tank and propped it against the tub then unscrewed the bulb from the flusher.

Ziva had pulled all the linens from the linen closet and scattered them up and down the hall. She also pulled boxes off all the closets shelves and scattered their contents around the living room, bedroom, and kitchen. She also emptied the tiny coat closet next to the entry and tossed it's contents around.

Ziva finished her path of destruction by scattering Tony's personal papers around the living room, only keeping those that she thought of use, these she stuffed into a small messenger bag for later. Between those and the contents of the safe, she had an interesting collection of personal documents, bank statements, reports on Jeanne Benoit, Renee Benoit, and information on Tony's undercover persona.

She also made even more of a mess by opening the fireplace and working the damper open and closed in an attempt to dislodge anything stuffed up the chimney.

Unfortunately for both of them, they made enough noise that the snoop across the hall called the President of the Renters Association, who listened for a moment then called the police.

Abby screeched in fury as she was arrested for the second time in a week.

Ziva tried to fight, claiming that she had diplomatic immunity but the officers weren't impressed. The woman officer just snorted and said, "Honey, you got balls. I don't care about immunity. All that means is we can't prosecute you. It don't mean we can't arrest you, hold you for 48 hours, then turn you over to your embassy with the order to get you out of the country. An' if you kick my shins one more time, I'm gonna mace your ass."

The other officer was a huge man who corralled Abby easily and slapped cuffs on her. "You … I remember you. We tagged you a couple of days ago. Josie! You remember this one?"

Josie turned to look at Abby. "I sure do. She was kicking the door … right here, come to think of it. Got brought in for disturbing the peace, damaging property and some other shit. Stalker you think?"

"Might be. We'll tell the captain and let him sort this shit."

They hauled both women down to their car and radioed for more transport, they separated Abby and Ziva and drove them to the station in two cars so they couldn't get their stories synced. Gibbs didn't say his number one rule was never let suspects stay together for nothing.

They were booked and locked in cells. Then the fun started. The captain had to call Tony and tell him that his apartment had been trashed.

Tony just called Jenny. "Jenny, Abby and Ziva trashed my apartment. You better get down to the cop shop and see if either one of them managed to get into my safe. There were documents in there pertinent to the current Benoit op. If Ziva manages to get them out of the country there's gonna be hell to pay. I'm going to take a look at the mess. I'll expect a cleaning crew to show up within twenty minutes of me. Or a good reason why not."

Jenny started to sputter but Tony just hung up on her. Jenny scrambled to get a crew on the road, simply telling the crew chief. "No idea how much of a mess there is but Abby was involved. DiNozzo's pissed. Take care of it, please."

She then called one of her assistant directors, Leon Vance, and told him the whole story. She finished her near tirade by saying, "So … could you please go down and sort this mess. Abby's already out on bail so I'm not sure what to do about her. Ziva is here on a political visa and thus has diplomatic immunity. You could rely on that, I suppose."

Leon Vance had his own ideas of how some things should be run and had been annoyed, when he actually read DiNozzo's un-redacted file, to realize that the summary page of his file had been written by Miss David. What she was doing adding anything to a superior agent's file, or any NCIS file, he didn't know.

He gathered what information he had, went down to legal, then on to the police station, accompanied by a lawyer.

The lawyer, Barton Mitchel, was not pleased. "I'm not sure we can keep Miss Scuito out of jail. She's already out on bail on a similar charge. They'll at least revoke that. So … And Miss David is here on a work visa … and why she's allowed to be on the MCRT when she's a … honey trap assassin is beyond me. So …" He shrugged and got into the waiting car followed by Vance. "We'll see."

"That's all I can ask. I'm sure that we can work out making both women pay for the clean up and any damages."

It wasn't long until they arrived at the station. Vance spoke to the desk sergeant who escorted them to an interview room. They were stopped just outside by an officer who announced, "Miss Scuito is in back. She's not going anywhere. Her bondsman revoked her bail. If you want to repost it … well, I'd suggest thinking again. She's pulled the same basic shit twice. Obsessive stalker, if you ask me. As to Miss David, she's been in touch with her embassy and they're sending someone down. Also … she had classified documents on an undercover in her possession. Frankly, I'd ship her back to Israel on a slow freighter."

Vance frowned then asked politely, "Would it be possible for me to see the documents in question?"

"Sure. We're just waiting for the chain of evidence document to be signed by the arresting officer. I'd really like to turn them over to you but I need to actually see ID."

Vance produced his NCIS ID, as did Mr. Mitchel. The Sergeant eyed both of them then nodded. "As soon as they get organized they'll bring it to me. I'll be happy to turn it over to you. Really happy."

Vance eyed David through the one way mirror. "I'm not happy with this whole thing. Miss David is the daughter of the Director of Mossad."

Mr Mitchel looked at the two officers in the room. One was the Captain of the Precinct the other was the equipment operator. "Would you gentlemen step out for a moment, please?"

Both men just got up and went into the hall.

"Assistant Director Vance. I have definite concerns about Miss David even being a liaison to NCIS. I really feel that you should use this opportunity to send her packing. I can justify it. If the documents are sensitive enough."

"We'll make a decision as soon as we see the documents. I'd like to be rid of her as well. She's a disaster waiting to happen. She doesn't have a clue as to proper procedures as far as I've been told. And wouldn't care if she did." Vance turned to take and sign an inventory sheet that a CSI handed him. "Thank you." He took and opened a manilla folder, glanced at a couple of pages then sighed. "Fuck me. Damnit!"

He looked at Mr Mitchel, demanded, "What's your clearance level?" When Mr Mitchel told him he shook his head. "Not high enough. This is bad. I'll need to call DiNozzo. And I really, really don't want to."

Mr. Mitchel just shrugged. "That is not in my job description. I will help him sue if he wants."

Vance just dragged his phone out of his pocket and dialed, after checking a scrap of paper from his inside jacket pocket.

Tony's phone rang, dragging him away from the mess he was contemplating. "DiNozzo."

"Special Agent DiNozzo. This is Assistant Director Vance. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."

"What the hell did Abby do now?" Tony went from pissed to furious in half a second.

"Not Abby. Ziva has some papers in her possession that I'm sure you didn't leave out. We need to meet."

Tony hurried to where he'd hidden his safe. "Son of a bitch. That's torn it. I'm not coming down to the station. I'm calling Captain Majestic. I'm pressing charges on both of them and suing for damages. They literally tossed the whole place. Dumped shampoo and shit in the tub, put all my food out on the counters and scattered my possessions all over. I'm done. Tell … never mind … I'l deal with Shepard, you deal with David and Scuito." Tony found himself panting so he used his inhaler, a few seconds later he felt better.

Vance thought for a moment then gave up. "All right. I'll have the papers sorted and deliver any personal papers to you ASAP. The mission related information I'll return to NCIS. And I wish to apologize to you on behalf of NCIS. This is inexcusable."

Tony was a bit mollified by the apology and managed to be civil. "Thanks for that. Now all I have to do is arrange to have the apartment cleaned. The heat's back on as of early this morning. Landlord emailed." He stopped talking for a moment then said, "Someone's at the door."

Vance said, "Hopefully that's the NCIS cleaner squad that Director Shepard sent. Again … I'm truly sorry for this." He hung up and turned to Captain Majestic. "Well, Special Agent DiNozzo is … not happy. Start making up the incident reports, statements and whatever else you need to arrest Miss Scuito … for the second time. And Miss David."

Mr. Mitchel interrupted, saying, "We can't hold her for more that 24 hours without allowing her to call her embassy. But … leave that to me. I'll … Do you want her out of the country or what?"

"I want her out of NCIS and the country ASAP. Shepard will throw a tizzy but I don't care. I do not want a foreign agent in NCIS. No matter how advantageous Shepard thinks it is."

Mitchel was already dialing. It didn't take him long to get a connection. "Hello. I need to speak to someone about Miss David." He pronounced it Day-vid. "Yes, I'll hold." He waited a moment then put his hand over the phone, "On hold and the music is obnoxious."

Vance smirked. "I think it's all disgusting. It's intended to make you want to hang up and forget about whatever you wanted."

It wasn't that long before someone came on the line. Mitchel explained what had happened and offered to get Miss David bail as long as she was out of the country in 12 hours. The man on the other end said that he'd send someone to collect Miss David, pronouncing it properly as Da-veed, within the hour.

"Well, she should be out of the country by midnight if I know Mossad."

Vance shrugged. "Good. Now … what about Miss Scuito? She's one of the best forensic scientists in the country so I really don't want to lose her, but something needs to be done about this … stalking thing."

Michel sighed and rubbed his face. "Ok. Leon, David is out of our hands as of now. Whatever happens is between DC and Mossad, forget about her. As to Miss Scuito … I believe we can rescue the whole mess by claiming diminished capacity, put her on a 48 hour psychiatric hold then make sure she is in therapy, court ordered and records guaranteed sealed if she finishes her therapy. That I can do."

.

Tony answered the door wearily. "Hello."

Carl Franks, no relation to Mike, offered his hand. "I hear you had a break in?"

Tony shook hands. "I did. Bitches trashed the place. Left food out on the counters … come in and take a look."

Carl looked around. "Well, hell. Ok. My crew is bringing in trash cans and boxes. We'll have to toss all the food. Sorry about that. All your clothing will be taken to cleaners … no telling what they might have dumped on them. We'll pick up all the papers and such and box them … you'll have to sort and refile them yourself. Anything else we can do, we will. So … just let me get a good look around. We'll have this place clean by morning. If you have a place to stay, I'd go there."

Tony made a decision. "I'm moving out soon, how about I get a Pod and you just pack things up and put them in there. I know it's a bit of an imposition but I'm done with this shit. I'm moving into a house as soon as I find something acceptable, until then I'm staying at the hotel I'm in now. The heat was out for most of a week, just came back on this morning."

"Ok. We can do that." He winked, "NCIS pays us by the hour. I know a guy so I can get a Pod in about an hour. You'll have to stay that long to sign for it and set up payment."

"Ok. I can do that. If you have boxes, I can start boxing up my movies and books."

Carl nodded. "We can do that." He turned to his partner and said, "Boxes for movies and books, double tape, please. And send the rest of the crew up." He looked at his watch for a start time and sighed, it was a little after four. He hoped the job didn't take too long, he wanted to watch the game on tv.

Tony wandered through the apartment while he waited for boxes. He glanced at his piano to make sure it hadn't been damaged then swore. "Shit! Piano."

Carl heard him and called, "We don't move pianos. No experience."

Tony called back, "I've got a frat brother. I'll call him now but it'll be a couple of days maybe before he can move it into climate controlled storage." Tony called his frat brother who agreed to put the piano in his storage, at standard fees, Tony insisted, and offered to get it tonight at 6pm. Tony was delighted at that and said so.

It was then that Maya came from the bathroom, "Mr. DiNozzo, you better come see."

Tony sighed then said, "It's actually Professor but call me Tony."

"Professor? That's nice. Professor of what?" Maya felt sorry for the poor man. Those girls had made a real mess.

"Cinema. History, specifically."

Maya just pointed to the bathtub. "It's plugged. We can clear it but … well, you need to see. I know pretty much every product there is on the market so I know what that stuff cost. Were all the bottles full?"

"They were. I took the opened ones with me. What a mess." Tony just eyed the ooze in his tub with disgust. "If you pour boiling water on it, will that help?"

"Yeah, it might. My usual procedure is to use a wet/dry vac to suck up as much as I can then rinse the rest out. So … I'll get my vac and see what I can do." Maya shook her head, muttered something in Spanish that Tony was glad he didn't hear and left to get her equipment.

Carl poked his head into the short hall and announced, "Special Agent DiNozzo, boxes."

Tony decided he wasn't going to waste breath correcting them so he just said, "Thanks." and went to pack his movies.

It took him an hour to find them all as Ziva had opened many of the cases and tossed the disks in one direction and the case in another. He managed by putting all the disks on the breakfast bar then picking up the cases and matching them. He'd had everything organized by year then alphabetically so he could find what he wanted. It was going to take him hours to reorganize, hours he was going to try to bill NCIS for. Yes, he was feeling vindictive, especially as the dust made him have to use his inhaler again.

The clean up crew were all CSI's in training so they did what they could to collect any evidence there was. Tony was a bit surprised to see how much there was. Ziva and Abby had both left finger prints all over. Abby had actually thrown a piece of chewing gum into his bathroom trash. Ziva had used his hair brush, leaving long hairs in it. He'd happily allowed Maya to keep the brush as evidence, telling her to throw it away instead of returning it to him.

He was sad to see all his carefully made casseroles thawed and spoiled. He was going to add the cost of ingredients and his time to the final bill. He watched as the blond guy took pictures of the whole mess then started emptying containers into the trash. Tony stopped him, saying, "Just toss the whole container. I don't have any glass and I'll never use plastic that had something spoil in it."

Bobby, blond guy, shook his head. "Shame about all this. Some of this looks so good. Who made it?"

Tony shrugged, "I did. I love to cook but don't … didn't really have time for it so when I had time, I made dinners that could go from freezer to microwave."

Bobby nodded, "Mom does the same thing. Well, I'll keep track of the containers I toss and add them to the damages. Sorry about all this mess. I'll mop the floor as soon as we're through tracking all over."

Tony, who had not been looking forward to that, thanked Bobby then went to answer the door.

He was delighted to find that the piano movers were just a bit early. He wasn't that happy to find his beloved baby grand covered with finger print powder. One of the movers just pulled a rag out of his pocket and began to wipe it off.

The head of the crew turned out to be Bill Jackson himself, Tony's frat brother. "Hey, Tony. What the actual fuck?"

"Dick-headed ex-coworkers decide to be dickish. I'm not sure why they wanted to find my classified stuff but they tossed the apartment for spite's sake. I'm moving out. By the way, congratulate me, I'm Georgetowns new Professor of Cinematic Arts and History." He grinned at his friend.

Bill reacted in the expected way, congratulating Tony on his new job, slapping him on the shoulder and telling him, "We got to get together for some sort of celebration."

Tony nodded. "I'm looking for a house near campus. When I find it, I'm having a house warming. I'll probably invite my department head and a few other professors that I meet. How's that?"

"Great. No carry-in. Maggie hates carry-in's. So … let's get this situated. Did they damage it?"

"Not that I can tell with a casual check. But I'd like to have you check the felts, dampers and what-not. There's a couple of strings that might need a new one."

"Got it." Bill realized that his men had the piano blanketed and strapped to the dolly already. "Well, we'll get out of your hair." He looked around. "Man, what a mess. You need anything call." They shook hands and Bill closed the door behind the movers.

Tony realized that he was exhausted. It was still Monday although it felt like it should be at least Wednesday. He glanced out the window to see the piano movers truck pull away only to be replaced with the Pod and a moving crew. Tony just muttered, "Nice to have friends in low places."

Carl overheard and replied, "Isn't it just. We'll have this whole place cleared out in a couple of hours. We're bonded through NCIS so why don't you just go home? This has to be messin' with your head."

"I am. I just realized that I'm just about done in. It feels like Wednesday to me. I'll just sign for the Pod and go."

"You do that. You look like crap on toast. No offense." Carl patted Tony on the shoulder sympathetically.

Tony realized that he'd gotten more support from total strangers in one day than he had gotten from supposed friends in a year. Excluding Jimmy and Ducky.

He found his coat and went downstairs to deal with paper work. It wasn't hard, sign here, swipe card, get a key and location. Done deal. He smiled at the driver/crew chief, said thanks, and headed for where he'd parked his car in his assigned parking spot. He was disgusted to realize that it was gone.

Done with the whole thing he reported it stolen then called his bank and left a message telling them, too, that it was stolen. If it had been repo'ed they could just keep it. He didn't even have anything in it as he always took everything out when he had it serviced. He called Uber and was told that there was a car about two blocks away.

He saw the car ease around the corner and pull up opposite the Pod. He approached the car and said, "Ride for DiNozzo?"

"That's me. Where do you need to go?"

Tony told the driver the address, adding, "The new Hyatt Suites down by the river."

"I know. How is it?"

"Nice." Tony leaned his head back on the seat and sighed.

"You ok? That was a hell of a sigh."

So Tony took advantage of the situation and unloaded on the driver, apologizing once.

When he was done, they were at the Hyatt.

"Well, that's hell of a mess. But, home sweet temporary home. You get a good meal in you and have a good night's sleep. Things will look better in the morning."

"I hope so. Here." Tony signed the tablet, added a huge tip and got out. "Drive careful."

"Hey! Thanks, man. Very generous." And with that he drove away.

Tony went inside and skipped checking at the desk, he was too tired to deal. He looked at his watch and saw that it was only 8pm. He glanced at the bar but decided against stopping in to play.

He settled in front of the tv but fell asleep while channel surfing. He woke at about 1am, stumbled to bed, stripping as he went, and fell into bed to sleep some more.

(Tuesday)

Tony woke with a thundering headache. He decided on coffee, gym, shower then NCIS. He'd had to call Delores, apologize, and explain that he had just run out of time. She'd been understanding and only said she needed the papers signed ASAP. He snarled as he realized that he was going to have to deal with a car today. Uber, while nice and convenient, was getting old. And he sure as hell wasn't riding the looser cruiser and cabs usually smelled like smoke and sex.

He finished his coffee, picked up last nights clothing, and hit the gym. Jeff greeted him cheerfully then examined him. "How you feelin'?"

"Pretty rough. Some ex-coworkers decided to join the spite patrol and trashed my apartment, as if I didn't have enough trouble there as it was. My car was repo'ed, Abby hacked the bank records and put a repo notice on it. I've had to use my inhaler three times and … I'm just …" Tony ran out of steam.

"I hear ya. As to the inhaler use. Stress will do it. Now. I'd advice a good hard run then a very short strength workout. Take a really hot, steamy shower … might consider using that inhaler before that, open up the airways. Sound like a plan?"

Tony nodded. "It does. Thanks."

He did his routine then left after thanking Jeff. He realized that he was a Phys. Ed. major and shouldn't have had to have Jeff set a routine. He was educated and should have used it. This led to the realization that he'd been letting his physical well-being slide, as if he hadn't been vaguely aware before. He just needed a real routine to settle into. He was tired of up at all hours, eating shitty food, drinking coffee to make up for lack of sleep, and thankless co-workers who took advantage at every turn.

He used his inhaler before getting into the shower and felt the tightness in his chest loosen considerably. He was going to avoid smoke, heavily perfumed areas, and dry heat for the foreseeable future.

He called Clark and told him about his car. Clark agreed that he should just let it go. It had been a compromise between what he wanted and what he could afford. Clark gave him an address, telling him to go there some time this week and see if they had anything he liked. He also told Tony that Cherry had found three houses he might like and wanted him to call her before Thursday noon.

His Uber came and he apologized to the driver in advance for being on the phone all the way to NCIS. The driver wasn't happy about the security check at the gate so Tony just got out, paid him, and went through the gate on foot. The walk up to the building let him stretch his legs from the ride.

"Mac. Good morning. I'm here to see Mrs. Bromstead, I need to sign some papers."

Mac nodded to him with a sad smile. "Heard all about it. You got a carry permit?" Tony nodded. "I need to see it so I can get the number." Tony produced his wallet and handed Mac the card. "Sorry to hear about the mess. Gibbs was always a hot head. This time we all lost out. You gonna be ok?"

"I am." Tony took his wallet back. "I finally got my inheritance and a professorship at Georgetown. So I'm pretty well set." Tony decided on a bit of payback. "I'm set up at a Hyatt for now. Abby screwed with all my utilities and shit. Then she and Ziva trashed my apartment. I'm looking for someplace a bit more high security that that rundown antique I'm living at now."

Mac blinked. "Wow. I heard that Tim and Ziva were on disciplinary leave. Abby got arrested?"

"Twice. She created a riot outside my apartment then broke in with Ziva. Tim's been good. He left me a message apologizing. So did Gibbs but the damage is done. A slap to the back of the head is a wake up call, no matter that it hurts like hell; but a slap to the face is an insult. And boy was I insulted. So I quit."

Mac offered. "I think Gibbs' brains are still scrambled. He knows better, or knew better. Everyone lets Abby get away with shit because she's just so cute, until she's not. Ziva? No one likes her, no one wants to work with her because they don't trust her. Tim is just … a geek with illusions of agent-hood. He's nice but he really doesn't relate well with the other agents … no frame of reference. Know what I mean?"

Tony nodded. "I do. So … escort?" He'd been keeping up the conversation while he waited for his escort but it was taking too long.

"Escort? Oh, shit! You do need one, don't you?" Mac looked around. "Oh, there's Carmody, he'll take you to where you want to go and they can bring you back down."

Carmody was happy to oblige and spent the short journey to HR lamenting Tony's loss to the agency. Tony was actually a bit glad to see him go when they reached HR. His effusive praise had been a bit embarrassing. He offered his hand and said, "Thanks for the escort, Carmody. See you around." He then entered the office practically shutting the door in the man's face.

Delores was happy to see him, she actually came around her desk to hug him. "Now that I don't have to worry about fraternization rules. So …" she went back to her chair pointing to one at her side. "Sit and I'll walk you through this maze of red tape."

It actually didn't take that long to complete the last of the paperwork, since Delores had already deposited his accumulated pay in his account, all he had to do for that was sign a statement that he agreed that he was paid in full for all accrued leave of any kind. He absently checked the amounts and said, "Well, that's nice. I expected some bean counter to manage to cheat me out of some of it but it's there. Every penny."

Delores smirked happily. "I saw to that myself. It was paid before accounting even knew there was a need. Now. This is your change of name petition. The judge has already approved it. And that was a piece of work. Just sign here with your old name and here with your new. You'll have to change a few things here and there." She handed him a print out. "Friend in IT did a search. There's actually not that much. Since you use Tony on nearly everything it's considered your 'name of use'. The few things that are Junior … well, I'd cancel them and start a new account. That's your passport, one bank account, a credit card … you should just cancel that … and three deposit boxes, all here in DC. I'd empty them out and put those things in some other box."

Tony eyed the print out. "Well, that's interesting. And thank you so much … I owe you. You're a peach."

Delores smiled at him then pointed. There, on a plinth was the Cherry Pie doll that he'd given her for Secret Santa years ago. "If you can find it … there's a Peach Parfait dress I'd love to have for her."

"It's yours." He glanced at his watch and realized that he could get to the auto dealer before lunch if he left now. Beside that, he didn't want to run into anyone from his team. "I better get out of here before someone I don't want to deal with catches me." He air kissed his friend on a cheek, she patted his shoulder and he left, completely forgetting to get an escort.

.

The dealership was one of those places where, if you had to ask the price you couldn't afford it, was an actual thing. Tony didn't mind, he knew what he wanted, he could afford it, and he wasn't taking any shit.

The dealer eyed Tony for a moment. Tony was well aware that he was assessing Tony's ability to pay. He was wearing $200 jeans, a $500 leather bomber jacket, and $175 biker boots, not to mention the fact that his henley and wool plaid shirt were both Pendleton.

"May I help you?"

"Car. New. Big trunk." Tony was not in the mood to be friendly with a suck up like this. He just wanted to get a car and get out of here.

"I see. Mr. DiNozzo?"

"Professor." He had the chops, why not use them? Another way to separate himself from The Ol' Man.

"I see. My apologies. I have several very nice new cars and a small selection of used. There's also a very few antique cars that could be daily drivers."

After checking every car on the lot Tony was a bit disgusted, the daily driver antiques were all badly restored Caddies. He frankly told the dealer, "I wouldn't drive any of those to a dog fight." The used cars were in excellent shape but none of them hit the spot. He finally decided on a new Lexus IS-F 5.0 with a moonroof, blu-tooth, navigation system and backup camera. It was Dark Forest Green with caramel leather seats, V-8 8 speed with automatic overdrive. He liked everything about it.

Tony offered the dealer his credit card when he asked about a payment plan. "Just charge it. My financial manager will handle it. Can you get the license and taxes taken care of or do I have to waste my time sitting around at the DMV."

The dealer ran his card, blinked, cleared his throat then said, "We can take care of all that. You'll have to wait a bit but we have a very nice waiting room right here. Wi-fi, coffee, snacks, and pastries. Please help yourself. I'll get everything ready for you."

Tony finally go to do something he'd always wanted to. "And make sure the tank is full. I'm not leaving here with my new car sucking fumes."

"Of course."

An hour later Tony had answered all his email, drunk two cups of very good coffee, eaten a cherry danish and an apple fritter, and sent texts to several people.

"Your car is ready, Professor DiNozzo. Right this way." The dealer led the way to the only garage bay customers were allowed into and handed him the keys.

Tony walked around the car then settled into the drivers seat. He adjusted the seat, mirrors, and steering wheel then turned the key. The V-8 started up with a very nice, muted rumble. He put his new car in gear and drove out the door with a jaunty wave to the dealer.

He decided to go back to the Hyatt and clean out his go bag. There was stuff in there he wanted to keep and a few things he wanted to burn.

.

He pulled up to the front door and a valet trotted over. "Sir?" Tony showed him his key card. The valet took it and swiped it through a reader on his wrist. "Inside or outside?"

"Would you park this outside?"

The valet grinned at Tony. "No, sir. But you wouldn't believe the way some people treat their cars."

Tony nodded then got out of the car leaving the keys in the ignition. "Now. Someone let a tow truck into your lot. They also allowed the truck to illegally repo my old car. If this happens to this car, which is paid for in full. There's going to be real trouble. Park it inside."

"I heard about that." John made a face. "The jerkwad that let them into the lot took a bribe to do it. I can't see losing a 15 dollar an hour/40 plus hours a week job for a 50 dollar bribe. How did he think he was not going to get caught? Seriously." John hurried over to a small lectern style desk and got a bundle of cloth out of it. He came back, unrolled the cloth then covered the seat with it, carefully velcroing the top around the head rest. "I'll put it way in the back. You cannot get a tow in there. And I'll drive it like it was my sisters."

Tony gave him a blank look. "Like it was your sisters?"

"Yeah. She's a car nut of the worst sort. She'd kill me if I so much as breath on her car. It's super safe with me." John started the Lexus up and eased away from Tony.

Tony was happy to see that he didn't rev the engine and allowed the clutch to slip naturally into gear instead of hot shifting. He went inside, checked at the desk where Billi told him he didn't have any messages or deliveries. He smiled at her, handed her a twenty and said, "For John."

Billi dimpled at him then tucked the bill into an envelope with John's name on it. "Thank you very much."

Tony made his way up to his room, feeling accomplished. He had a nice car, now all he needed was a house. He settled at his desk and called Cherry.

Cherry was happy to hear from him. "Oh, Professor DiNozzo. I know you're really busy so I set all the walkthroughs for Thursday. Kinda take the heat off, if you know what I mean."

Tony did and thanked her for that. "I was just calling to check in and see what time Thursday you want to see me."

"Well, as all the houses are within four or five blocks of each other and within six blocks of campus, I thought ten would be good. That gives you time to run, shower, and so on. That was one thing Dr Aspacian said … you run a lot. I do have one house that is about ten blocks out but it's near a park with some very nice running trails. I run there myself and I can tell you that it's really nice. So. I'll pick you up at about ten?"

"Great. I'm looking forward to it." Tony hung up, satisfied that he'd find a house. He was seriously considering the last one mentioned, he had to run and it sounded like the park was a good place.

He dropped his phone on the desk with a soft thump and went to find his go bag. After a quick search he found it in the back of his closet tucked neatly between his shoes and rolling suitcase.

"Ok. What do I have?"

Tony just dumped the whole bag on his bed, emptying the side pockets as well as the two main compartments.

He took his letter opener, American Pi mug, and Mighty Mouse stapler out to his desk and put them down. He sighed then returned to his mess.

He found that he had a bunch of evidence bags and containers, gloves, a finger print kit and his sketching things. He remembered a time when art had been fun, then he'd been shanghaied as the prime crime scene sketch artist. He now had nothing but a sketch book, a few pencils and the gadgets needed to make sure his proportions were correct. He wondered idly what had happened to his watercolor box. He grimaced, his Mom would be disappointed in him. She'd always told him that a well rounded Paddington did art, played music, was sociable without being overly friendly … and other things he couldn't remember. He'd kept up his music but let his art slide as he just didn't have time or room. Now he had time and he'd make sure he had room.

He kept the bags, jars and tubes; tossed the inventory papers and stubs of pencils from his sketch kit. He fingered the gloves then tucked a few into an inside pocket and left the rest in the bathroom. Finally he set the fingerprint kit aside, it was NCIS property so he'd return it. He flipped through his sketch book and looked at several of the sketches. He decided to keep the book and add to it as inspiration struck him. He thought he could make some really beautiful landscapes from some of them.

Then he sat down and glowered at the NCIS hat and jacket. He'd had to pay for them himself so they were his. He wondered if the staff would be pissed if he tossed them into the tub then set them on fire. He decided that that was a bit petty, the staff shouldn't have to clean up after his tantrum. He decided to give them to Jimmy instead.

A quick look at his watch told him that the reason he was feeling grumpy was, he was starving. He decided to just make an omelet. Since bacon, cheese, mushrooms, and onions were already provided that's what he made. The bacon was already precooked, sort of. The sad, limp strips provided needed to be cooked more so he tossed three in a pan and sorted his cheese, mushrooms, and onions while they were crisping. He couldn't understand this acceptance of half cooked bacon. He knew trichinosis was no longer a concern but his childhood in a kitchen womaned by old fashioned Mexican and Italian cooks made him subconsciously leery of bacon that didn't crunch when bitten.

He checked the bacon, decided it was done enough and put it on a paper towel to drain. He added the onion and mushrooms to sweat while he cracked eggs and whipped them quickly. He then just poured the eggs in with the mushrooms and onions, who said the goodies had to be rolled in the eggs anyway. A good sprinkle of salt and pepper later all he had to do was crumble the bacon on one half of the omelet add the cheese then fold it over. A quick flip and his lunch was done.

He sat at the small dining room table and ate while watching the noon news. There wasn't much of interest, they were mostly covering some new construction and pointing out detours around a combination of road work and new building that was being done at the same time. He really didn't care as it was across town from him. He flipped around a bit then just shut the tv off. He rummaged the shelves until he found a book to read. He turned on the stereo, found an easy listening jazz station and spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening reading.

.(still Tuesday)

Abby was beyond distraught, she'd just spent a day in jail and was headed for a 48 hour psychiatric hold. She wasn't nuts. She wanted things to be the right way and she just had to make sure they stayed the way they were supposed to be. She didn't understand why people couldn't see something so simple.

So now she was headed for Bethesda Psych Ward and 48 hours of justifying herself to some shrink. Boring. And did they have to cuff her? Seriously.

"I really don't need to be cuffed. I'm not some psycho."

The big woman who was her escort snorted. "Honey, you do. And you are. Really? Have his car repo-ed, same as keying it. Create a riot in his building? Kick his door until the panel cracks? Pick the locks then trash the place? Sounds psycho to me. All because he quit. What part of his life, his choice don't you understand? Stalking charges are being recommended."

Abby shook her shoulders in agitation. "He belongs at NCIS, with me. He needs his friends around him. He's …" she stopped, opened her mouth then whined, "Oh, My, God. I do sound like a nut job. What? I mean. Oh, shit! I'm such a bad friend." Then she started to cry.

"Huh! Got it through your head just now? Good. Make good use of your time at Bethesda. Then you'll be back here in front of a judge. Do not get stupid. Come on, the bus is here." She helped Abby onto the bus, fastened her seatbelt for her then patted her on the shoulder. "You listen to me, honey, no use cryin' over spilled milk. Just do better. Make amends if he'll let you but do not make a nuisance of yourself. Send him an email after the ex parte expires. Be contrite but don't grovel, that's not attractive. And if he says no? …"

Abby sniffled but said firmly, "No means No. So leave him alone and hope he gets over being mad and contacts me. Thank you."

"Good girl. I bet things come out ok. Now … let me dry your eyes." The Officer pulled a tissue from her pocket and dried Abby's eyes for her. "Blow." Abby obediently blew. "There you go."

Abby settled back, thinking furiously. She'd screwed up as badly as Gibbs had and with just about as much reason.

.

Tim had actually contacted an old MIT friend and asked if it was violating his ex parte if he emailed Tony. The friend had offered the opinion that it was skating the edges of intent but, if Tim emailed him once to ask him to mail back, that would be okay. But he'd emphasized that Tim had to wait for Tony to mail him back before he sent another.

He settled at his keyboard to write another email to Tony. He apologized for being a brat and begged forgiveness. He asked if Tony would please mail him back with permission to mail him again or tell him to leave him alone until he was over being pissed. He bit his lip then decided to let it cool off before he read it again. If it still seemed to say what he wanted after he had time to think he'd send it first thing tomorrow.

.

Gibbs was furious with himself, Jenny, Ziva, Abby, and Tim; but mostly with himself. He knew better than to push that hard. But he was getting older and felt Tony breathing down his neck. He wasn't ready to give up his job just yet. But something was wrong with that attitude, he just wasn't quite sure what.

He knew he wasn't at full mental health but he was getting better. Jenny had been nagging him to see a therapist but he was resisting. Or had been. This last fuck up had him reconsidering his refusal. He'd talk to her in the morning, across her desk. She was really pushing to rekindle a relationship that had been one of convenience and lust when it was hot. It was cold ashes now and he really wasn't interested. Especially the way she was acting now.

He worked on his boat, drank an unreasonable amount of bourbon, and thought.

.

Ziva was furious. She'd been taken to the Israeli Embassy in transport shackles. Ori Ben Gibbon met her at the garage doors and informed her that she was being recalled. She tried to kick him but the leg irons nearly tripped her. Ben Gibbon smirked at her in a most unbecoming way and motioned to her two Marine guards to bring her.

"Sorry, sir, we're required to turn her over to you at the gate. We sort of went over and above by actually entering the embassy grounds." The guard offered Ben Gibbon a clip board. "If you would please sign here?"

Ben Gibbon signed using a broad nibbed fountain pen to sign in Hebrew. "There. And I would like to thank you for bringing her into the garage if you weren't supposed to. It is a great convenience."

"You're welcome." The Marine gave a sharp nod, turned with neat, military precision and walked back to the transport followed by his partner.

Ori Ben Gibbon was not a happy person. He hated dealing with the mess that was the David family. Eli was what they called a man whore. He had sex with anything that would hold still for him and had at least three acknowledged bastards. Now it was coming back to bite him in the back. Ziva was a disgrace, Ari was a failure, Tali was dead, and the two other bastards wanted nothing to do with him. He shook his head.

"Well? Bring her." The two guards, who had been patiently waiting while Ori made up his mind, poked Ziva into motion.

She snarled but moved, more because one of her guards actually took her by the arm and dragged her.

Ori spoke as they walked, "We're not taking any chances with you. You'll be leaving the country immediately via one of our cargo/mail carriers. Before you snark at me, all your possessions have been packed up already, they're on the same plane you'll be on. And glad I am to be shot of you and your mshuge." He handed the necessary papers to her new guards and walked away.

Ziva argued with her guards but didn't get far. Before they put her in the back seat of their car one of them told her, "Please just shut up. We follow orders, you do not. You're nothing but an embarrassment to the whole country. You'd have an unfortunate accident if your Papa wasn't Eli David. You both might anyway."

Ziva shut up and stayed silent.

.(Wednesday)

Tony hopped out of bed, feeling much better now that he wasn't permanently mildly sleep deprived. He did his morning routine and decided to do some art. He could sketch.

When he got his sketching things out and checked them, he realized that he only had a couple of 6B's, a 5B, and a stub of 4B. He tucked things away again then looked at his watch. It was nearly 10am so art stores should be open. He checked Google Maps for the nearest one and found several. He was more into the smaller indie shops than he was large places like Dick Blick. There was nothing wrong with them but he liked the more personal touch of the smaller places.

The one he picked, called The Paint Pot, was about fifteen minutes away by car so he went downstairs and stopped at the valet desk. John wasn't there but an older man was.

Tony handed him his keycard and ID. "Professor DiNozzo. I'd like my car please."

"Sure thing, Professor. It'll be about five minutes."

Tony squinted a bit then said, "Thank you, Jamal."

This got him a brilliant smile. "Welcome." Jamal trotted off to find Tony's car. Five minutes later his car eased up to the desk and Jamal got out. "Here you go. Beautiful car. And bran' spankin' new."

Tony blinked. "How'd you know that?"

"Milage … we keep track. No problems with our valets joy riding in a patron's vehicle, not that they would anyway, but we like to keep 'em honest." Jamal winked, "And … it's got less than 100 miles on it. You have a nice day now."

Tony pressed a bill into Jamal's hand, got in and drove away.

The store turned out to be in a strip mall set back from the street, nestled neatly between a lady's wear store and an empty front. Tony parked in front of the front door, locked up with a quick press of a button and opened the door. The jingle of a spring bell made Tony grin.

A voice from the side of the store called, "I'm stocking. If you need anything just yell for Aggie."

"Thanks. I'm gonna look around. If I pick up something can I just dump it by the register?"

A greying head popped up from behind a display of easels. "Sure. You stockin' up?"

Tony nodded, "I am. I lost some things somehow, I suspect a co-worker of borrowing them." He made Aggie chuckle with his air quotes. "And I used up a lot of stuff."

"Well, help yourself. Like I said, if you need me, yell."

Tony wandered around a bit. He knew he didn't want to work in oils yet; he didn't have any place to put the canvases to dry which could take up to a year. He wasn't familiar with acrylics so he didn't want them either, he intended to experiment with them later. So, watercolors it was.

He found the watercolor aisle and wandered down it, poking at things and whistling softly.

He found a palette that he liked, then another. He decided to get a pocket palette, a glass tabletop palette, and a covered moisture retaining deep well.

He picked a Windsor & Newton 12 color field box set because of its water bottle and container arrangement, he liked the fact that the bottle fit into the box and the container held everything together. The tabletop palette was actually a large sheet of unbreakable pyrex glass with a cut out to make it easy to pick up. The covered palette turned out to be a Blick Covered Palette with 22 wells. He fingered a porcelain Quiller 32 well palette then nodded. He could afford it so he was getting it.

He eyed the paints then realized that Aggie had a complete line of Daniel Smith watercolors in sticks, pans, and tubes. He had a vision of the palette he usually used so he picked up tubes of that first, then sticks of the same. He took his load to the register then went back, he needed 20 more colors. He was happy to find a color wheel of all the DS colors. This helped him pick the colors he wanted. He also bought several sticks of colors that he wanted but knew he wouldn't use much.

He was happily considering an assortment of brushes when a voice at his elbow said, "You setting up a studio?"

He realized that that was exactly what he was doing. "I am. I don't actually have a place yet, but I'm buying a house."

"Oh, you lucky thing, you. I'd love a house. My studio is in the back. Good enough but I can't get up in the middle of the night and work. What do you paint?"

"Landscapes mostly. Crime scenes lately." Tony grimaced as he realized that he'd let his art slide because what art time he did have was usually touching up sketches.

Aggie made a face. "Crime scenes? Ugh. Not my idea of fun."

Tony shrugged. "Not mine either but someone has to do it. You wouldn't believe how important a sketch can be. Pictures are really two dimensional but with a sketch you can put measurements and mark directions. You can also note how far one sketch is from another and peripheral details like paths and roads."

Aggie nodded. "I see. Well, paper?" Tony nodded. "Ok. Blocks, loose, or bulk. If you buy ten sheets I'll cut it down for you."

"That's nice, but I really prefer pre-cut, books, or blocks. And heavy weight, I'm a wet painter. I really like Saunders Waterford blocks 140 lb. Or Arches." Tony fingered one gently.

"I've only got the 9"x12" Waterford. But I do have it in cold, hot, or rough press." Aggie looked hopeful.

"Good enough. I'll take two of each and an Acquerello Portofino Hot Press in 12"x16". And these brushes." Tony handed off the brushes he'd been selecting while they talked.

"Ok. And, since you're buying so much, you can pick one $20 item free of charge." Aggie hoped that this would keep the nice man coming back. She had several people who drove clear across town to shop here.

Tony turned to other things, a portable easel, a messenger bag, and some odds and ends wound up on the counter. "Ok, that's all … I think. Paints, brushes, paper, Guerrilla Box, water cups, what ever." He waved a hand over the pile. "If I've forgotten something I'll just come back."

"You do that, sir. Now, one twenty dollar free-bee. I'll start ringing all this up." Aggie started scanning things and took the time to arrange things so that no tubes got squashed.

She was nearly done when Tony came back with a palette knife. "I forgot one of these."

"For watercolors?" Aggie wondered about that. Most watercolorists didn't use one.

"There's a couple of techniques on wet paper that I use. And I do mix some colors in palette."

Tony accepted the bags and ambled for the door. He stopped for a moment then said, "You remember an artist from … oh, '70 something? Paddington?"

Aggie blinked, "Well, that's a bit out of left field. But … yeah, I do. Lovely person, played piano. English minor nobility of some sort. Did landscapes, flower still lifes, and that sort of thing. Really good. She married some rich Italian trucker or something. Gone just like that."

Tony frowned and bit his lip. "You know if any of her stuff is still around?"

"Not that I know of right off hand. That trucker … he bought up a lot of it. He said out right that it was shameful for his wife to have trash art out in public. Never did like that man. Waste of skin. What ever happened to her?"

Tony looked sad, then pasted on a bright smile. "Oh, she died. Been a while. I just wondered if any of her art survived."

"Well, if you give me some way to contact you, I can ask around. Might be some stuff in private collections, you could approach the owner for a viewing."

Tony put his bags down and got out his note book, he scribbled his email and phone number then handed it to Aggie. "Here. I don't have an address yet … I'm at the Riverfront Hyatt until I can find a house."

"So you said earlier. Well, remember, make sure your studio has good light. I'll be in touch when I find something." Aggie really wanted to help this man. After all he'd spent over a thousand dollars without a blink.

Tony gathered up his bags and actually got out the door.

He got back to the Hyatt quickly and parked by the valet desk. He pushed the button to open the trunk, got out, and got his bags. He waved to Jamal and called, "Park her back in the same spot, please."

"You got it. Have a good day." Jamal eased into the driver's seat. He was bigger than Tony by a couple of inches and heavier too.

Tony seeing the trouble Jamal was having just yelled, "Adjust the damn seat, man. You'll hurt yourself."

Jamal called back, "We don't like to do that. Messes the seat up for the owner."

Tony nodded his understanding. "Got a button. All I have to do is push it and it goes back. Adjust the seat, dude."

Jamal waved, adjusted the seat and drove away carefully.

Tony shook his head. "Man. Good people."

He nodded to Billi on his way by. She gave him a bright smile then returned to dealing with a young couple with a crying baby.

One thing Tony really liked about the elevator was, no Muzak, he hated it; instead, the elevator just had a rather bland, female voice which announced the floor number and told you the door was opening or closing.

He carried his loot into the living area and soon had it all unpacked. He eyed some of the packaging then grumbled, "Atom bomb anyone?" He took his knife out of his pocket and started opening things. He soon realized that he needed a huge trash bin, the tiny can under his desk was overflowing after the first three or four things.

After a moments thought he went into the hall and looked for the supplies closet. He was sure there would be large garbage bags there and was hoping to take a couple. He was a bit surprised to find it was locked. He jumped when a woman's voice behind him said, "Sorry, sir. That's employees only. Cleaning supplies."

"Yeah. I was just going to get a couple of large trash bags. I bought a bunch of art supplies and they're all wrapped and packaged in a mountain of plastic. I need something to put it all in."

"I know. Ridiculous, isn't it? Here … I'll just get you a couple. Leave them in the hall when you're done." She started unlocking the door. "Oh! While I'm at it … do you need more towels? Maria usually leaves two sets per bathroom but we ran short."

Tony said, "Well, I don't actually know. I haven't checked. But I do appreciate clean sheets every night. Some suites only change them once a week. Kinda cheap, really. I'm payin' $400 a night and only get clean sheets once a week? Tight. That's what it is."

Juana made a face. "It is. We pride ourselves on making sure our patrons have enough towels and clean sheets every night. Here you go. I'm giving you three. Make sure you leave enough room to tie the tops. We don't use those weird ties that come in the box. They don't stay."

Tony took the bags with thanks and went back to his room.

It took him most of thirty minutes to unwrap everything. He really did understand the reasoning behind putting tube paints in clam shells, a squeezed tube tended to burp paint all over the place. But putting sticks in clamshells just baffled him.

He put the small field set in the Guerrilla Box along with the stick paints. He didn't put any paints in the palettes yet as he was just setting up his plein air bag. He fiddled around with things until he realized that he just wanted the Windsor & Newton field box and half a dozen sticks in the messenger bag along with an extra water cup and a few more brushes. He wondered how he could protect his extra brushes from being damaged by stuffing them into a bag while wet. He decided to just put them in the tube left over from a roll of paper towels for now. He'd left it on the counter so he got it and stuffed a towel in one end. He just have to be sure to put it in the bag in such a way that the bristles didn't get deformed. He put his unfinished spiral bound sketching pad in the bag and was satisfied.

He stuffed all the waste into two bags and put the third in his Guerrilla Box for now. He put the porcelain palette in the box and all the other brushes as well as a block of paper. He got an empty plastic box from under the bathroom sink and put everything else into it. He'd have to find something else before he left but that wouldn't be a problem. If nothing else he'd just pay for the box.

He sat down at the desk with a note book and drew out the palettes then numbered the wells. He took his time and thought carefully about what colors he really needed in the Guerrilla Box then wrote the names beside the numbers on the Quiller palette. This would go in the Guerrilla Box as the colors wouldn't dry out between sessions, due to the seal. The porcelain palette would stay in his studio. He absently wondered if he really needed, or would use, 32 colors then decided to just go for it. He was finally done so he closed his note book and settled in to actually do some art.

Tony spent the afternoon refining several landscape sketches then drawing the vase of flowers tucked neatly into a small niche in the wall. He realized that his nearly extinguished passion for still life and landscapes was rapidly rekindling. He flipped the page and started another sketch, he was startled by the loud growl his empty stomach gave.

After closing the sketch book he tucked it neatly into the messenger bag and put it underneath his desk. He got his phone and searched for a restaurant nearby, he wasn't fond of eating in hotel as their restaurants were either very good and very expensive or not that good and very expensive. He wasn't up to taking the chance. He realized that, due to stress and an unfamiliar kitchen, he really wasn't up to cooking, much as he loved it. He finally decided on a hole in the wall noodle kitchen with five stars, he just hoped there was room for him.

He walked the four blocks to the restaurant, pulling his collar up against the increasing chill of the evening.

It turned out the restaurant was a rather traditional style with a front dining room, a high counter, and a kitchen behind. The counter went the full width of the room with a small pass at one side. It was blocked off with a swinging flap and a lift up counter top.

He eyed the menu written on a blackboard on the wall over the counter and decided on a traditional ramen. The lady behind the counter nodded and said, "Got it. Name?"

"DiNozzo."

"Ok. I'll call you when it's done." She bustled around the table in the middle of the kitchen area and started making food. Tony decided to stay at the counter and watch.

"Hey, you can sit down." The lady eyed him for a moment.

Tony gave her his patented 'I'm not dangerous' grin. "So you said. I just like to watch. I learn stuff that way. By the way, what's your name. I can't keep thinking of you as the noodle lady."

"Kathy. I'm forth generation American and don't even speak much Chinese. People from China come in and talk at me. No idea. I can only figure out whether it's Mandarin or Cantonese. So … if you got questions go ahead and ask." She pulled the noodles and poured soup over them then added prepared ingredients. "There. Soup's on."

Tony snickered at that and took his bowl to a table. "When do I pay?"

"As soon as you know you don't want more. Second bowl is half the price."

Tony settled on the tall stool and reached for his fork and spoon. He sniffed the broth then sighed. He knew he should use chopsticks but he just never mastered the skill. He apologized to Kathy. "Sorry about this. I never mastered chopsticks."

"And why should you? My kid can barely use them. Just enjoy your food. If eating with chopsticks is part of it, fine. If not, just get the food from plate to mouth." She laughed as she went to wipe the prep table down.

Tony enjoyed his noodles but decided that one bowl was more than enough. After all, the bowl was the size of a small tureen. He paid then walked around the neighborhood for a bit before starting back to the hotel.

The walk was a bit more than bracing and Tony was shivering a bit by the time he got back to his temporary home. He started the coffee maker and leaned against the counter to answer emails until it was done.

There was a mail from Jen demanding he send her a progress report ASAP. He sent back that Jeanne still wasn't going to be in town until Monday at the earliest. He didn't expect her until Wednesday or Thursday as there were still some workshops scheduled and she wanted to attend a couple of them. He also told her to stop nagging him.

An email from the Israeli embassy told him that Ziva had been deported and was persona non grata at the moment. The Ambassador also apologized to him for her behavior. He sent a thank you in reply, he refrained from comment on her behavior.

There was a rude email from Abby which called him several uncomplimentary names and demanded to know when he was returning to work. He cc'd it to Evan with a note asking him to get her to stop.

Tim sent him a very short email telling him to ignore any mail from Abby as she'd sent a couple before she'd had an epiphany on the jail bus. She was trying to line up a therapist through NCIS. He apologized again for being a bad friend and hoped that Tony could forgive him in time.

Tony deleted the mail from Jen and Abby. Answered Tim with a quick, "Thanks for the heads up. I'm working on it."

The coffee maker burped so he poured a cup and ambled back to his desk. He needed to check on a few things for his lectures. They weren't vital but he'd have to check them or he'd never rest.

It didn't take him long to find out what director had directed the movie in lecture three and who the head stuntman had been in the movie for the lecture on bad stunts. He saved to the university cloud and went to bed a bit early. A luxury he hadn't had in more years than he cared to contemplate.

.thursday

His workout went well, he was pleased with his increase in endurance and strength. He didn't have to use his inhaler at all. He was going to keep it with him for the foreseeable future however.

Jeff entered all the pertinent details in his computer then advised him to have a breakfast high in protein and low in sodium. Tony just groaned in mock dismay and exclaimed, "What? No salt on my eggs? Evil!"

"You can have salt if you leave off the V-8. And you need to cut down on coffee for a bit. I don't like the look of some of your vital statistic readings." Jeff frowned at his monitor.

"You are seriously telling me that you can check my vitals?" Tony frowned at the ceiling.

"While you're on the treadmill I can. Sensors built into the hand grips." Jeff smirked a bit.

"Ok." Tony glanced at his watch. "I better get showered and changed. I've got an appointment for a house viewing at ten but I wouldn't put it past that woman to be early."

"Seriously? Can I get her to talk to my girlfriend?" Jeff grinned.

"Better not. Just realize that what you consider late, women consider right on time. Tell her thirty minutes before the time. Or find a girlfriend who respects you enough to be on time."

Tony had no patience with that old business of women being late by nature. There was no excuse for that sort of behavior. It was passive-aggressive control at its stupidest.

After a shower Tony dressed in a heavy weight winter suit then called Cherry. "Miss Mills. I'm ready anytime you are. Any place you're fond of for breakfast?"

"I just have a protein shake for breakfast. And coffee. If you want food, I could bring you a burrito or something. If you want me to come early that is." Cherry sounded about half awake.

"No. That's fine. I'll just get something here at the hotel. And there's no rush unless starting earlier would be good for you." Tony didn't care. All he wanted was a house to be moved into before the mid-term was over. That meant he had until Monday to deal with everything. Of course, if he threw enough money at it nearly anything was possible.

Cherry made a weird cooing noise. "Oh, ooo, that'd be great. My fiancee is in town, just made it in from Paris. I had to turn down a lunch date because I figured we'd still be on the tour. If we work it right I can meet him. I won't rush you, I promise. But this is really nice."

Tony looked at his watch and said, "I'll be done with breakfast in about forty-five minutes. Meet me at the portico in an hour. That gives me some lee-way."

They exchanged a few pleasantries then hung up. Tony went down to the restaurant and had a rather ordinary egg and bacon breakfast that cost way too much. He really didn't care, he was just glad to be house hunting instead of marking time.

He didn't have long to wait as Cherry was early. He hurried to the car and got in. "Morning. I'm glad you're early. I'm anxious to get started."

Cherry smiled happily. "Me too. Unfortunately, one of the houses was sold yesterday. My company doesn't assign houses to a certain realtor. We just have a pool that we choose from. But, it was smaller than all the others and way too close to frat row. It's been on the market for a couple of years. I understand that it was bought by a bachelor who was a member of a nearby frat. I was only showing it because the boss asked. I did find another house to replace it but it's a bit pricy."

Tony shrugged. "I can afford nearly anything I like. I fell into an inheritance that I wasn't expecting. So …" he waved a hand. "Shall we?"

Cherry nodded. "We shall." She eased away from the portico and out into traffic.

They drove in silence most of the way. Tony wasn't inclined to maintain his hail fellow well met mask anymore and being a class clown had brought him more pain than benefit. He was done with the whole thing. He was who he was and anyone that didn't like it could take a hike.

Cherry wasn't that chatty with her clients, she felt it was not necessary to make friends with people she'd never see again so she kept it professional. She did, however, point out places of interest.

"If you look on the right, that's Georgetown. We're at the official back side of the campus, not that that makes much difference in the long run. It's actually more accessible than the front as there's no fancy gate and the parking lots are all assigned parking. And the student parking is all near the dorms. Faculty offices are there." She pointed out the faculty office complex and dining facilities.

Tony was pleased to see that she turned at the side of the campus and drove for a couple of minutes before pulling into a driveway.

He took one look at the tiny bungalow on a lot the size of a postage stamp and said, "I was really looking for something larger. Did I forget to tell you that I need room for a baby grand piano and an art studio?"

Cherry blinked. "If you did tell me, I completely forgot. Well. This puts a bit of a different slant on things. I was basing my choices on your projected salary over ten years. Perhaps you could give me a ball park figure of what you'll be able to handle?"

Tony pulled out his phone. "Give me a sec to check what Clark has made available." He poked his phone, looked at the figure then said, "Six mil give or take a quarter."

Cherry eeped then said in a choked voice, "Oh, okay then. I need to think."

Tony smirked at her and offered, "Take your time. If you need to go back to the office I could look at some listings?"

"No need, but thanks. One of the reasons I'm so highly paid is … I keep a listing in my head. I'm good at keeping track of most of our listings. So …Ok." She pulled out and drove around the block. "How about this one?"

Tony eyed the mid-Victorian gingerbread three story. It was badly in need of paint and a new roof. "If it wasn't for the fact that the roof is shot, I'd look at it. It's much more what I had in mind but I need a turn key. I have to be in by Monday. Classes start and I'm teaching a heavy load so I won't have time to mess with repairs and shit."

"Great. Not that you don't like the house but now I have a good idea. I know you want near campus but I'd really recommend not this near."

Tony had thought about that and decided. "I know I want no more than a fifteen to twenty minute drive so near or on less well traveled streets. And I don't much care about things like style except no steampunk. Or that glass and steel, cold, impersonal shit they call Swedish Modern."

"It's actually Danish and I don't care for it either. One bit of something out of place and the whole thing looks messy. But … I do have a really nice place but it's a bit of a weird one. It's huge, very reasonable and nearby. But it's a converted warehouse."

"I don't care about outside appearance. It's the inside I'm interested in. I won't take a place that echos like a barn but I'm open to looking."

Cherry just offered, "It's really nice. It's not that expensive but it's on the edge of an industrial park. No trucks in the middle of the night or anything like that, it's all abandoned. The developer who bought it went bankrupt before he finished more than this one project. There's another four warehouses, exactly like the one finished. Very good investment but the idiot gambles. So the bank repoed the whole mess and is trying to unload the buildings individually."

Tony brightened, texted Clark then turned his attention back to Cherry, who'd stayed quiet as Tony texted.

Cherry pulled into a driveway, pressed the button on a remote and waited while the gate opened. "This is the first house. Big, but not too big. It's got a library slash music room that the former owner used as an office. The kitchen is well appointed but galley style. The dining room is across the hall from the kitchen with a small breakfast/sunroom right off the kitchen; between the kitchen and the living room."

Tony got out and looked the garage over. He wasn't fond of the arrangement of garage beneath the house. Car smells got into the house too easily. But he wasn't going to pass just because of that.

He did pass when he saw what Cherry referred to as a galley kitchen. What it actually was was a hole in the wall; dark, cramped, and in dire need of a refurbish. Also, the music room/library/office , it was no more than 10x10 and how Cherry thought a baby grand would fit was beyond him.

"Cherry, no offense, but do you have any idea how big a baby grand is?"

"It's about four by ten and five feet high."

Tony shook his head. "No … that's an upright. A baby grand is about five feet wide by six feet long, that foot print isn't going to fit in that room. This is a no."

Cherry sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know a lot about pianos. I go to the concerts at the college sometimes so what do they play?"

"That's a concert grand piano, or a grand, and some of them are huge. I like my piano but I really covet a concert grand piano. I might just get one if I have enough room."

"Ok. The next place on my list might be better. There's no music room as such but there's a ballroom on the second floor that the current owner has turned into a library office. And a walk in attic for a studio." Cherry looked hopeful.

"Okay. Let's take a look." Tony patted her on the shoulder. "You're doin' good so far. There hasn't been anything really wrong with the houses. It's just that I don't want any major repairs and do have some very specific wants that I'm not prepared to budge on."

This house was right on a very busy main drag and had such a small side yard that the street was right under the windows. Tony shook his head. "No. Sorry but how the hell did they wind up so close to a street?"

"The street was widened in the late '70's and they took most of the side yard for it. If you tried to build so close now you couldn't get a permit. Grandfathered. I don't think we'll ever sell the thing." Cherry shrugged, it never hurt to try. "Last place is the warehouse. It looks like exactly what it is; a 1930's brick warehouse but it's triple insulated."

Tony smiled. "That was one of my concerns. How far out are we talking?" Tony was going to turn it down if it was more than thirty minutes away, he'd had enough of commuting an hour or more. He knew it depended on the average traffic load more than the distance so he wasn't looking at that so much.

Tony was happy to see that the five buildings were set around a huge parking lot and the whole lot was surrounded by a high brick wall. The gates were ornate but solid and slid to the side on big rubber wheels. The building he was going to look at was the largest and situated across the lot from the gate with the other four buildings two and two on each side. They were also nearly 100 feet apart. "Wow. Huge lot."

"Big trucks. The developer had plans to tear out most of the middle of the lot and put in some sort of garden or park. You can see where he marked it out. Just eyeballing it … each building will have somewhere around ten parking spaces. You'll have more as your building faces the lot instead of being side on. Want to take a look?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I do. Where are the loading docks. There have to be docks if this was a warehouse."

"Your building has a rather big one around the back it's just a big empty space with … I don't know how to describe it but the trucks backed in and there's a walk way that matches up with the back part to let people unload right from the back. All the other buildings have the same arrangement only outside." Cherry frowned. She knew what it looked like but describing it was hard as she didn't know what to call things.

"I'll have a good look at it but if it's a standard ditch-drop that might be a problem."

"There's no steep thing. It's all flat."

"Ok. Let's park and take a look." Tony thought this was going to be his place.

The front door was set in, a commercial safety door with a heavy steel panel and a pick-proof lock. Tony opened the door and stepped into an entryway with heavy, built in coatracks on both sides with mud-catchers underneath. The room was probably seven feet wide and four or so deep, plenty of room for two or three people to use at the same time.

The inside door was more to keep drafts from the open main door out of the huge main room. Tony glanced around and breathed in a sigh. The main room was divided into areas by free standing bookcases, the load bearing members were clad in brick and paneling with screens and more detached cases to further define the spaces. The kitchen was half walled at the front to create a breakfast bar with a wall on each side to support cabinets, fridge and range. He poked here and there and was pleased to see that the sinks were on the front half wall and there were three of them and there was still a bunch of counter room. The range was a huge commercial thing with two ovens, a warmer, a salamander, and six burners; two of which converted into a flat top, more counter space on each side included a coffee station. The fridge was a larger standard style with a great deal of room.

Cherry smiled as Tony examined the fridge. She pointed to a short, nearly unnoticeable hall in one corner of the kitchen. "Go down the hall."

Tony went and was delighted with the pantry, small walk in freezer and fridge that took up half the space behind the kitchen.

"What's in the other half of this space?" Tony, very used to looking for hidden spaces, knew that there was more room behind the kitchen than the freezer and fridge took up.

"Utilities and laundry room. I don't really understand how it all works but there's an on demand hot water heater there and a washer and dryer. There's also the circulation system for the climate control. Why they don't just say AC I don't understand." Cherry shrugged.

Tony went to investigate and realized that the unit was an air conditioner/ heater combo that was more efficient than most and huge. He knew it was industrial, it had to be to cool or heat an area this size.

"I like it. Where are the bedrooms?"

Cherry pointed. Back against the side wall was a wide staircase that led up to a half floor. Tony realized that they were the old offices for the company that had built this complex. He trotted up the stairs to see that there were two guest bedrooms and a bath between them. The rest of the floor was taken up with a large sitting room, a good sized bedroom, a walk in closet, and a bath with both a tub and a shower.

He stood on the small landing at the top of the stairs and mentally moved a couple of things around. He put an office right beside the front door, then marked out an area for his piano, next was a sitting and media area and back in the odd space made by the stairs and kitchen his studio and a small gym. The room was well lit by huge triple pane windows and hanging fixtures with Tiffany shades; hidden can lights made sure there were no dim areas. He was amused to see that the designer had put drop down wiring on all the posts, this resulted in there being a plug-in every six feet or so.

The floors were original, evidenced by the odd marks all over it, but sanded and sealed then waxed to a high gloss. The walls were bare brick which had been sealed. He squinted for a moment then saw the high railing half way up the walls all around the room that allowed him to hang things without having to figure out how to put hangers in the brick, all he had to do was clip a special device to the rail, attach some chain, then put a hanging hook on the chain. He thought a few bits of paneling would look nice but that wouldn't be a problem.

"I'll take it."

"Ok. We can go back to the office and I'll start preparing the loan papers."

Tony couldn't help the smirk he gave her as he said, "No loan. I'm paying cash … e-transfer actually."

Cherry looked like she might faint for a second. Tony actually reached out for her. She got herself together quickly and said, "Oh. As you wish. We still need to go back to the office to start the transfer of deed." She took a deep breath then walked to the door. Tony held it open for her then locked up, pocketing the keys.

The drive back to Cherry's office was quick, it was on the other side of campus from Tony's new home but the traffic was light. Or as light as it ever was in DC. She parked and headed for the door. Tony took the opportunity to tell Clark that he wanted to buy the whole complex. Clark sent back that the whole property wasn't worth more than five million so not to let Cherry talk him into more.

Tony trotted to catch up with Cherry. She led the way to her desk and sat down. "If you want coffee there's an office assistant I can send out, or we have a coffee pot in the break room." She made a face. "I really don't recommend that as the coffee is usually weak and burnt."

Tony shook his head. "No coffee just now. Once we conclude our business I'll take you out for some, if you'd like."

Cherry didn't go out with clients, personal rule, so she just smiled and said, "No thank you. Remember I have lunch with my fiancee. Now … I've got the property you want and the four others in the compound as one purchase, I'll have to do some legal things to separate it out."

"How much for the whole compound?" Tony couldn't help a small smile as Cherry brightened.

"It's listed at seven million but … and this doesn't even eat into my commission … the bank will let it go for significantly less. I can get it for you for five; and, since we don't have to separate the lots, we can have the paper work done in a day. Come back at three and I'll have it ready."

Tony nodded. "Great. Now … you better get out of here or you'll be late for lunch. I'll take a cab back to the hotel, pick up my car and be back at three. Scat."

Cherry grinned, she'd been resigned to missing her lunch with her fiancee. "Ok. Thank you." she snatched up her purse and scurried for the door, telling the receptionist to call Tony a cab on her way out.

Tony stopped at the desk to tell the receptionist to make sure that Cherry got her full commission. The receptionist just nodded.

Evidently the cab had been close as a honk from outside had Tony trotting for the door.

Three saw Tony back at the office. Cherry wasn't there, her fiancee had proposed and she'd called in. The receptionist had all the papers and keys, she passed the keys over, pointed, said, "Sign there." and went back to her work.

Tony took the contract and settled in to read the whole thing. He wasn't about to sign something he hadn't read. It took him a few minutes to read it all. It was exactly as Cherry said it would be. He signed then returned the contract to Mindy. "Here's the contract. Who do I see to collect the deeds?"

"Me." She rummaged for a moment, moving piles of papers from one place to another. "I hate it when one of the realtors is out at a time like this. But Cherry is great, she'll give me a bonus. And her fiancee is a great guy. I'm really happy for her. But still … Ha! Here it is." She handed him a brown cardboard accordion folder. "That's the deed for the whole complex, all five buildings. And the lot is four square blocks. "

Tony nodded, checked that she'd given him the right papers then smiled and left. He now had three days to get moved in.

A return to the hotel saw him seated at his desk. Things had to move fast now. He called all his frat brothers he thought could get to DC or were already in DC. He would have called Abby, Tim and Gibbs but that was out now. He did call Jimmy and Ducky. Ducky wondered what he could possibly do and Tony flat out told him, "Make sure my kitchen is organized and that the towels and sheets have a place. Order pantry items and meat, cheese, eggs; that sort of thing and make sure they get put away."

Jimmy was nearly begged to come retune his piano as he, Jimmy, was the only person Tony trusted to do it right.

Ducky slyly called Gibbs and told him to come help. "You started this mess. If you want Anthony to forgive you, you have to start it. And your dick won't fall off if you say sorry. Think about it." he hung up before Gibbs' could literally squawk, "Ducky!"

The call to Pods left the operator delighted when Tony told her to have the driver use the loading dock. He gave directions then sighed. This was going to be a race no matter how many people showed up.

Bill Jackson called back within twenty minutes. "Hey, Di, find a place? Dispatch said to deliver your pods to an address in a small, abandoned warehouse complex. What the fuck?"

"I bought it. Some dipshit gambled away the whole thing. He was going to make housing out of all the warehouses but only managed one. It's the main building and it's great. Wait until you see. You are coming yourself? Right?"

"I am. We can start delivery at 9am. Earlier if you pay for it." Bill sounded eager. "We'll have you moved in in no time. You got any help coming? Frat bros are always willing. I can call some."

"I already called and lined up half a dozen and a couple of guys from NCIS are coming." Tony yawned, he was worn out. "See you tomorrow at 8am?"

Bill agreed and hung up.

Tony spent an hour fixing supper then eating it. After that he sat down at his desk, turned on his computer and looked for a blue-print program. He didn't want a really expensive one, but not a free one either. He wound up spending twenty dollars on one that was adequate. He used it to move the bookcases around then place his piano, desk, treadmill, and bow flex. He didn't have either yet but he wanted to make sure to get everything in its place so he could show the movers where things went.

He then made a list of furniture that he wanted. A new bed was top of the list; full size with a head and foot board. A new dresser to match the bed and some other bits and pieces that he wanted. The place was cavernous at 6000 square feet just on the lower level. The half floor was just over 2000. With a foot print of 100x60 it looked as big as it was. Tony decided that he loved it more every second. The closet was an impressive 8x12.

He fiddled until he had everything just as he wanted it then indulged himself with creating a 3D walk through rendering in high def complete with plants and nick-knacks on the bookcases, occasional tables, and shelves. He rubbed at his bleary eyes and realized that he needed to get to bed. He sent his files to the commercial printer at the front desk. He'd collect them in the morning.

He packed up most of his stuff before he went to bed, surprised that everything still fit in the rolling suitcase and his messenger bag. He flattened his go bag and stuffed it into the suitcase.

.Friday

Morning came and with it a good run, a quick strength routine, shower, and breakfast. While he was eating Bill called, "Di, we're ready to head out. Can you meet us or will we have to wait?"

"I'll be there in twenty." Tony crammed the last of his toast into his mouth, grabbed his bags, and headed for check out.

"We'll be about thirty be ready to point the way. Bye." Bill hung up.

Tony smiled. He was ready to check out of the Hyatt, no matter that the place was very nice, it wasn't a home.

Billi smiled at him. "How are you this morning?"

"Checking out." Tony couldn't help his wide grin. "I found a place. I sent some blue prints to the commercial printer last night. I'd like to collect them."

"Oh, congratulations on the new house." Billi went into the room behind the desk and came back with Tony's prints. "Here you go." Tony took the prints and rolled them up. "We're sorry to see you leave us but I bet it feels nice to have a place of your own again." Billi clicked things and took Tony's card to run.

"Make sure to include a hundred dollar tip for Jeff, Brandon, the head valet, and yourself. And no argument. You've all done a great job of making my stay exceptional." Tony gave Billi a stern look.

Billi did as she was told, had Tony sign the receipt then said, "I hate to see you go but good luck in your new place."

Tony nodded then hurried out. His car was waiting for him so he put his bags in the trunk, hopped in and headed for his new place.

He was a bit surprised to see that several of his frat brothers had already arrived, along with Jimmy and Ducky.

He waved them to the front door and waited for them to gather. "Hey! Thanks so much for doing this for me. The truck should be here soon." He glanced at Jimmy. "My piano will be here at nine." He passed his prints to Guy and said, "Here. Roll these out somewhere, they show where everything should be."

It didn't take long for Tony to realize that Gibbs was the one organizing things. He didn't comment, taking Gibbs' help as the apology it was. He wasn't mad anymore, he was just sad and disappointed.

The pod came so Tony went out to show them how to find the docking bay. Since the pod was an independent unit that couldn't be opened until it was dismounted the driver just dropped it in the middle of the bay and pulled out. It didn't mate with the four foot unloading platform so they started by taking everything out of the pod and putting it on the floor. This turned out to be a good idea as they could sort it before taking it in the huge roll away door that opened into the hall that ran behind the kitchen, in fact it was most of the hall wall. Tony realized that this was done so that all the appliances and climate control as well as the washer and dryer could just be carried in then walls built around them. This accounted for the odd hall that went more or less nowhere.

They were lucky the hall was nearly four feet wide, in fact all the halls were wide, as it made it much easier to get Tony's huge couch into position, as well as the accompanying TV, entertainment center, and stereo. Gibbs kept consulting the plans as he supervised moving bookcases and bits of furniture around.

No one realized how big Tony's desk was until they tried to move it in. He'd picked it up somewhere or other in an estate sale. It was a huge roll top. Tony loved it. But it wouldn't fit through the turn in the hall so they put it on a two wheeled truck and brought it in through the front door.

Jimmy was left to deal with the piano, he knew that they were not getting it in through the loading dock, the turn in the hall, no matter how wide, was too sharp. The desk had proved that. He had them bring it in through the front just like they'd had to do with the desk.

Gibbs directed the movers as to where exactly Tony wanted his piano. After they got it in place he began to move the bookcases into place. With books in place and a few nick-knacks it would be in a sort of room of its own. Gibbs looked around. "Tony, do you have one of those sheet music chest things?"

Tony looked up from his plans. "No. I don't have one. It's nice to have a cabinet with drawers to keep it flat but I never had room in my apartment. I keep what I have in the bench."

"Ok. I just wanted to make sure before we set the shelves. It's not that hard to move them again but it's a nuisance." Gibbs pulled a small note book out of his pocket and made some notes.

"One of those is on my list of furniture as well as a taboret for my art supplies. And I need to get either an easel or a desk. Maybe both." He didn't notice Gibbs scribbling in his book again.

Gibbs put his notebook away and commanded himself to suck it up. "Tony. A minute?"

Tony eyed him warily. "Ok."

"I'm shit at this stuff and you know it … I'm really sorry. My head's still more screwed up than I thought. Jenny's makin' passes at me like a sixteen year old with a crush and that's puttin' me on edge. But that's no excuse for me bein' a bastard to you when all you ever do is try to help me and do the right thing. So … again. I am sorry." He gave Tony an open, hopeful look then held out his hand. "Friends?" Gibbs hoped for friends, he knew there was no hope of Tony returning to NCIS.

Tony gripped it. "Yeah. Friends." He had to turn his head away to hide suspiciously wet eyes.

Gibbs ignored it, cleared his throat harshly then asked, "So. How's the plumbing?"

"No idea. You could check it out when you get a chance."

And that was that, it was hard to mend a broken friendship in just a minute but they'd made a good start and both men were hopeful.

It wasn't long before all the furniture was in place, linens in Tony's walk in closet, towels in the unit in the bathroom, and all the floors swept.

The kitchen was still a bit of a work in progress as Ducky had gotten sidetracked ordering food on the internet.

Jimmy was still tuning the piano.

Gibbs was still moving bookcases with some help from a couple of Tony's frat brothers.

Tony just started putting the things on the counter into cabinets. He couldn't believe how much cabinet space he had. "I need to set up the coffee station. And … good dishes out of storage."

Bill, who was walking by, stopped and nodded. "We've still got all that other stuff of yours to deliver, you want it today? It's not a problem to get it. I put it in a pod as soon as they started making them."

Tony was delighted and showed it. "Man, I love you. Yes, please. I've got room for all of it, one place or another." He looked at his watch. "I'm starving. Why don't you have the other pod delivered while I order some pizzas."

Bill grinned. "You got it. You're gonna have to order at least a dozen extra large."

"You know it. Let's see … there's you, Bud, Jimmy, Gibbs, Ducky, Frank, Clark, and your whole crew. How many men?"

Bill snorted. "Five." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted someone. "And the new driver." His phone beeped with an incoming message. "Yeah. Dispatch thought you might want the other pod so they had the gate open and got it ready. It'll be here in half an hour."

Tony, who'd been doing some texting of his own, nodded. "Pizza will be here in twenty."

Gibbs ambled over. "Food? Drinks?"

Tony sighed. "Pizza place won't deliver drinks anymore. The tax on sugary drinks makes it hard for them to make a profit so they don't have them now. Could you go get something? I think there's a grocery about three blocks that way." He pointed with one hand as he reached for his wallet with the other.

Gibbs patted his shoulder and said, "That's ok. I got it. Be back ASAP."

The pizza, drinks and pod truck arrived almost at the same time. The pizza arrived first, the driver made one trip to the door, asked for payment then went back to bring in the rest of the pizza. Gibbs nearly trod on his heels with the drinks and the pod truck driver poked his head in the door right as Gibbs was bringing in the last of the drinks to ask where they wanted the pod. Gibbs went back out with him to show him where to drop it then invited him in for pizza. He declined saying he was going to take the opportunity to have lunch with his wife and kids.

They all sat around the room on various bits of furniture, gobbled pizza, and guzzled soda. Everyone offered advice on where Tony should put what. He nodded, took some advice and ignored the rest.

The second pod contained some furniture, more kitchen things, several boxes of keepsakes, and several paintings his Mother had done. One, which embarrassed him half to death, was a portrait of him at about six in a sailor suit with an old fashioned formal sailors hat called a Donald Duck. He turned so red that no one had the heart to tell him that he looked cute. He declared the smallest bedroom a storage room and had all the artwork carried up there until he could decide what he wanted to hang.

The pod also contained several trunks that Tony insisted on taking upstairs himself. No one said anything as most of the group were used to Tony's sometime secretive ways, the rest didn't care. After he was done with the trunks, Tony sat down to rest a bit.

Gibbs had taken one look at most of the wood and gone out to his truck returning with a can of polish and a handful of rags. "I'm gonna polish all the wood. You got any objections?"

Tony shook his head. "Just not the piano."

Gibbs just gave him that look and went to work on an occasional table.

Tony tipped the Pod crew as they filed out the door past him. Bill said it wasn't necessary but Tony ignored him with regal distain, until Bill tickled him. Tony squealed like a girl and ran out the door with Bill right behind him. They ran around the parking lot, dodging vehicles and laughing.

Bill finally got into his truck and drove away. Tony returned to the house and started putting movies onto the bookcases nearest the entertainment center. He scowled a bit then moved the couch back a couple of feet and a foot to the left. "There. Much better." He looked around then pulled his notebook from his back pocket and wrote, 'Buy loveseat, two recliners to match couch.'

One by one his frat brothers finished the job they were doing and came to him to schmooze a bit, set up a date to meet then leave. He felt reconnected with them all.

Jimmy was still tuning the piano, Tony could tell by the constant sound of one note played over and over again.

Ducky ambled over. "Well, my dear boy, I've done the best I could. A couple of the movers did the actual work … excellent fellows. I finally finished polishing the silver. Do please keep it in the proper cupboard. The one lined with silver paper."

Tony glanced at Ducky's blackened fingers. "Oh, man, Ducky, you didn't have to do that. But thank you so much. You need a ride?"

"No, I drove myself. The Morgan needed a bit of a run and it's a fine day, if a bit chilly. But … I'm off. Congratulations on your new house." Ducky patted Tony on the shoulder. "One thing. Jethro is absolutely devastated over this mess. Please forgive him … after a suitable amount of groveling."

Tony nodded. "It was more … the straw. I'm done with pacifying everyone and their dog. I'm not moving forward in my career there and no promotion in sight. I like teaching and I love movies." He grinned. "Another perk … no one's gonna be shooting at me."

Ducky smiled, patted Tony again and left.

Jimmy plonked on a different note and Tony winced, he hadn't realized that the lower register was that out of tune. Of course, moving it could cause a lot of problems, the harp would flex no matter how careful the movers were.

He was sorting through a box of DVD's that seemed to be out of order and thinking about which VHS tapes he wanted to replace with Blu-Ray and which ones to just store. An 'A-ha!' from Gibbs attracted his attention. "What you got, Boss?"

Gibbs popped up from behind the desk. "A couple of hidden compartments."

Tony blinked at him for a moment then said blankly. "What?"

"Hidden compartments. Common in this age of roll top. Come see."

Tony trotted over to check it out. "Oh, man. You've got to be kidding me. I've had this desk for … since Peoria. I never thought to look for such a thing."

Jimmy stopped tuning to come over and take a peek.

Gibbs pointed to the back of the footwell near the right bottom corner. A drawer was pulled out, sticking into the well by about eight inches. "There. Nothing in it but some dust." He got up and pulled the small shelves out of one of the cubby holes then pushed against the back causing a door to swing open. Behind the pivot door was another hidden compartment the same size as the back of the cubby hole and about three inches deep. "That one had a small book in it. I didn't look in it." Gibbs pointed to a leatherette bound book that would just fit the cubby hole. "Looks like a journal or ledger book." He smiled at Tony who grinned back. "I'll forget all about where those are."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, sure you will. But … neat!" He crawled under the desk to examine the drawer more closely. "How do you open … never mind, I got it." He crawled back out. "This is great. Thanks again."

"Welcome. I'm done polishing everything. I better get going." Gibbs wasn't taking any chances that Tony was still mad. He'd apologized, helped with the moving, and polished every piece of wood he could find.

Tony wasn't furious anymore but he was still pissed so he said, "I really want to thank you for showing up to help. I really appreciate it."

Gibbs nodded then thought of something, "You havin' a house warming? Might be a good idea … invite your new co-workers and staff … that sort of thing." He gave Tony a hopeful look.

"Yeah, that is a good idea. And since it's yours you can come by some day soon and help me plan it." Tony couldn't help a smirk.

"I'll be happy to. Name a day and, if I don't have a case, I'll be here."

"Good enough. I'll see you out." Tony headed for the front door, walking around a book case that divided the office area from the rest of the room. "I think I'll move that book case three or four feet from the wall. Then I'll put a case right in front of the door about six feet into the room. What do you think?"

Gibbs eyed the current arrangement and realized that now, you had to walk around a nine foot long three section bookcase to get to Tony's desk. But there was a straight shot from the front door right into the whole of the room. "Yeah. Better arrangement. Easiest way to do that is take down the section where you want to make a door and move it to the other end. I'll help you if you like."

"I do, but not now. I want to live with it for a week or so, just to get a feel for what needs to be moved. I'll call you?" Tony glanced at Jimmy who nodded. Gibbs grunted.

Tony opened the door and offered Gibbs his hand. Gibbs shook it, nodded to Jimmy, and walked out to his car. He gave Tony a sad look and a gentle wave before getting into his car and driving off.

Tony watched him drive away with mixed feelings. He was still angry, and a bit stunned, at what had happened, but he was beginning to feel more and more that it was going to turn out to be a good thing.

By the time Tony got back inside Jimmy had returned to his tuning. Tony went upstairs to make his bed but found it done, the military corners told him Gibbs had done it. "Oh, Jethro, how the hell did we wind up like this?" Tony sat down on the bed and put his elbows on his knees, he rubbed his face with both hands then just sat for a few minutes.

He was glad when Jimmy called him down to test the piano for himself.

"Ok, what would you like to hear? If I know it, I'll play it."

Jimmy shook his head. "No, I'd love it, but it's actually distracting. Just run the full scale."

So Tony sat down and ran a scale from the lowest note to the highest. "Sounds good. Thanks a bunch."

"You're welcome." Jimmy started to pack his tools away. "I better get going too. I'm starving … and, no, you're not feeding me. I'm going to get a meatball sandwich from Tony O's and go home. See you."

"Ok." Tony gave up easily, he really didn't feel like cooking after all the work he'd done. "But … house warming. You're coming, right?"

"I will. Just let me know when."

.

Director Shepard was furious, she actually threw her coffee cup at the wall. Ziva was gone, out of the country before she, Jen, had any warning. She was sure that it was some sort of conspiracy to keep her out of the loop.

McGee was still on leave or she'd have him find her. And that was another thing that got to her. The rest of her MCRT was either on disciplinary leave or had quit. Except for Jethro who was raging around his bull pen like a wounded bear terrorizing the TDA's and refusing a probationary agent. She knew that Tim wasn't a good candidate for SFA but she was at a loss.

She decided that, as he had caused this whole cluster fuck, she wanted to know why he hadn't been called on the carpet. She was told, by Delores Bromstead herself that, as he was the instigator he should have, but HR felt the more appropriate punishment was to have to deal with the mess he had made.

Jen rubbed her forehead then rummaged her desk for the Tylenol. She took four then returned to work. She was still trying to hold DiNozzo to his word on the Benoit op but she could feel him slipping through her fingers. If he dumped this op she wasn't sure what she'd do.

.

Gibbs worked on his boat, drank too much cheap bourbon, and tried to fill in the blanks in his still spotty memory.

He was getting better, he remembered Tony and why the man was so offended. He also remembered a time when they had been a very effective two man team. He wasn't sure how they'd broken down so badly but he was going to fix what he could.

The fact that Ziva was so inappropriate as an MTAC investigator had hit him hard. How the hell had he allowed her to stay on his team when she was obviously tearing it apart he couldn't figure out. He'd ask Jen, but she'd only tell him half truths or out right lie. He was assuming political pressure from above. Or currying favor with Mossad in the person of Eli David. He knew Jen loved to brag about who owed her favors, she was also an unrepentant name dropper.

Tim didn't bother him nearly as much. The man was easy to brow beat. Ziva and Abby had that down to a fine art. Abby was also a mistress of the guilt trip while Ziva could gaslight with the best. Poor guy didn't have a chance. He'd bring him back to the team when his disciplinary was over but he'd be damned in hell before Tim would ever be his SFA

Gibbs actually contemplated sending him down to Cyber Crimes permanently but he really didn't want to have to rebuild his whole team. He'd give Tim another chance but any step out of line would result in a written reprimand.

He wasn't going to do anything about Abby. He'd finally found out about the 'Trainee' name tags and the amazingly embarrassing shrine to him and was justifiably pissed. Abby was a grown woman; he wasn't her father, brother, husband, or uncle; she knew better than to behave like a toddler throwing a tantrum because she couldn't have a cookie. The bail-bondsman had re-bonded her but it was going to cost and he wasn't helping her. He hoped like hell that tough love really worked.

Finally deciding that he wasn't getting anywhere but drunk he went to bed.

.

Tim sent another hopeful email that he was sure was going to be ignored. It was the last one and he said so. He said he didn't want to be an annoyance but he really wanted to make amends. He was looking at ten more days of nothing to do but play no longer satisfying MMORPG's and single person shooters.

He wondered how he let Ziva and Abby get him in trouble time after time. He remembered Tony telling him, several times, "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. Grow a spine, McJellyfish."

He finally called Penny and had a talk with her. She was ready to skin him and said, "What part of learning the ropes didn't you understand? It's standard protocol in misogynistic, quasi-military organizations to train by creating an uncomfortable environment. In this case, quite understandable. Your failure to accommodate the learning experience is very disappointing." She clucked a couple of times then added, "I think you should remember back when you were young. Your father tried to instill some discipline in you with that sort of thing. Your mother and I discouraged it, thinking you were too young for it. Perhaps we shouldn't have sheltered you so much. I'll have to meditate on this. You need to decide if you still want Mr DiNozzo as a friend or will you chose Abigale and Ziva? You need to do a cleanse and meditate. I'll send you a couple of recipes and some meditation music. Good-bye."

Tim sighed. He wasn't going to cleanse, that stuff she wanted him to drink tasted like pond scum. The music, maybe.

.

Ziva was furious, not that unusual a condition for her, Eli had issued an executive order to all Mossad, she was not allowed out of the country. If she left he had told her he would send Kidon for her and they wouldn't be careful. She didn't doubt that for a second.

She was now imprisoned on the family farm. It had orchards of olives, lemons and peaches, and a vineyard of grapes that were only good for vinegar. She was expected to oversee the operations there. In other words, be seen every day so that the minions were sure she hadn't done a runner.

She was allowed to go into the nearby village but couldn't stay for more than two hours before someone came looking for her. Shopping was terrible, TV was antenna only and her internet was so obviously watched that she rarely used it. Her emails were scrutinized and redacted. Her phone was tapped, the beeping so annoying that she kept her conversations to a minimum. And the worst part of it was the end of the thundering lecture she'd gotten from Eli. He'd simply said that she was so compromised that she wasn't even useful as a body guard for visiting pop stars. She was going to end her days in obscurity, not even allowed to 'go out in a blaze of glory' as Tony would say.

.

(Monday)

Tony felt relaxed and happy. He'd spent all day Saturday getting all his movies back in order and shelved on the bookcases that delineated the entertainment and kitchen area. He'd had to move one case to make room for his slab table. It had been in storage since his current apartment hadn't even had room for a four seater. The only eating area had been the breakfast bar. He'd managed to create a couple of seating areas away from the TV. One was a small place at the bottom of the stairs with a very comfortable chair, footstool, and reading table. He'd surrounded it with bookcases loaded with all his favorite books. He really liked the reading table as it was a combination of magazine rack, table top, and reading light.

Another was on the other side of a bookcase that formed the inside wall of the area where he'd put his piano. It was full of things he'd picked up here and there.

He'd gone furniture shopping on Sunday and actually gotten the full office, extra chairs and tables, and the bed, dresser, high boy, and nightstands delivered and put in place that afternoon. It didn't hurt that he'd offered to pay the driver and movers himself. They'd been very pleased at the overtime and bonus he'd offered.

So now he was getting ready for his first lecture of the day. He'd hated to change everything at mid-term but the influx of students who'd transferred from on-line to real life lectures had made it a necessity.

He walked out onto the stage and shuddered. The place was huge, his TA had said that the capacity was five hundred and his class was above two. The only other lecture hall available at this time was the, so called, little theater with a seating capacity of twelve hundred.

A voice from the back made him jump. "Hello? Who's there?"

"Professor DiNozzo. Who are you?"

"I'm George. Your AV specialist. In other words, I'm supposed to run whatever clips and stuff you want. Or I can set it up, give you the clicker, and just hang in case something stuffs up."

Tony grinned. This was good. "Come down here please. I need to go over what I want to do with you. If it's standard stuff, I can do it. If you have to do anything fancy, you're stuck."

It didn't take long for George to set things up and show Tony how to work the remote. Tony was a fast study, no matter what Tim thought, and had it down in a couple of minutes.

.

Tony waited until the last minute then called, "Guy who just walked in the door." A young man pointed to himself. "Yes, you. If you know how to lock the doors please do so." The man flipped the simple turn key then found a seat. Tony got an older student to check the other door then lock it too.

"Alright. First, I will not tolerate lateness, it's a sign of disrespect. If you are always coming in late it distracts the rest of the class, interrupts everyone's train of thought, and pisses me off. Leave in time to be on time. No excuses."

There was a bit of mumbling but one clear voice said, "Finally. Thank you." Everyone laughed at that then settled down.

"Excellent. Two, for some reason my name was mangled, it's DiNozzo, not DiNardo. Please correct it where ever you need to. I'll remind anyone who makes a mistake for the next week. After that, I won't answer you. And … last but most important. This is a lecture and discussion class. Other classes assign you chapters to read, worksheets to do … that sort of thing. I assign movies. You will watch the assigned movie on your own time, come to class and be prepared to discuss or you will fail the day. I will be giving handouts to read. There's no decent book. These handouts are copy written to me, don't copy them, hand them around, or post them."

A hand went up so Tony pointed to it, "Yes?"

"Professor DiNozzo, what about those of us who live in dorms, or don't have access to the movie for some reason?"

"Actually not my problem but … streaming Netflix is one way. If the movie isn't available in any form, I'll make arrangements to show it here either Friday or Saturday night. But, rent it somewhere and make a movie night of it. Or play it on your laptop. Take notes. Be ready to discuss. I will give you a good idea of what you're supposed to look for. If it really becomes a problem I'll see if I can't get one of the theaters for a showing."

The young woman sat down, satisfied.

"Anything else?" No hands went up.

Tony started his lecture but was interrupted after about five minutes by someone rattling the door.

He looked around and spotted a middle aged man who looked like a retired cop or some such. "You." he pointed to the man. He glanced around, scowled at the rattling door, then looked back at Tony. "Go tell whoever it is that they've failed the day and never be late again. And don't let them in."

"Yes, sir." The man practically saluted then went to the door. When he opened it the jock on the other side tried to push in and found himself kicked back. "Son, you better be on time. You're locked out."

"Do you know who I am?" The guy tried to get in again and found a large hand planted in the middle of his chest.

"No, and I don't care. Prof said you can't come in. Don't be late as the doors are locked on the dot. I'd suggest getting a friend to give you notes from today. Now go away."

"Hey! Coach said this was an easy A so what's the prob?" The guy sounded like a self-entitled, A-string loafer.

Tony shook his head then announced, "Another thing. This class is not an easy A. It's not just watching a movie and that's it. I expect you to learn something from every movie and discussion. I will be testing you rather extensively. Now. Mr … "

"Roman, sir."

"Mr Roman, shut and lock the door. Take your seat. And my thanks for handling that." Tony made a note. He looked up to see a hand. "Yes."

"How do you … I mean … aren't you going to take attendance?"

Tony shrugged. "I did. I can count. And, as my count came up one short, I figured I'd let it slide as a mis-count. If I have to assign seats to ensure attendance, I will. I'd rather not."

"Ok. Thank you." The girl sat down looking perplexed. Tony knew she was wondering how he knew who was who. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd just looked up the class sign up sheet, found their pictures on the colleges websites and made himself a three-ring binder with just a copy of their pictures and names, nine to a sheet. It was a two inch binder and it was full.

Tony continued his lecture on what they were going to accomplish this half term. He'd done the same thing at the beginning of the term but it couldn't hurt to repeat things.

He finished his lecture with about five minutes to go and dismissed the class with the reminder, "Ok, that's it for today. Watch The Scarlet Letter and be prepared to discuss. And not the moral stuff. I'm more interested in the character development."

The class scrambled to leave, gathering up their things and crowding into the aisles. Tony watched with some amusement. He remembered the days when he was in their shoes.

He was pulled out of his musings with a start as someone began shouting at him from the side door. The usually locked side door.

Tony was no where near intimidated by the football coach who was trying to scream in his face. He just stood up, proving that his 6'2" frame was taller than the coach.

"Are you even listening to me?" The coach was now red faced and sweating.

"Actually … no. If you don't get out of my face in one second … I'll move you." The coach backed up at Tony's cold tone and frosty glare. "I do know. I know more about this shit than you do. I kept up a double major of Sports Medicine and Education. I also played basket ball and football. There's no excuse for some dumb jock showing up fifteen minutes late. And this class is not an easy A. It's actually rather hard. We're not just watching movies and filling out a worksheet. Students are expected to think, discuss specific subjects, and actually learn things." Tony sneered at the coach. "And you're not doing them any favors by this sort of behavior. Our football isn't even on most people's map and not likely to be. Also … you do realize that the chances of any college player going pro are fifty to one. Right?"

Coach sputtered incoherently for a moment the pointed at Tony. "I don't believe you've ever even touched a foot ball."

"Anthony Dominic DiNozzo, Jr. Class of '89. Look me up." Tony decided he'd had enough of this and turned to pick up his briefcase and jacket. He didn't bother to turn around, he only said, "If you take a swing, I'll swing back. Believe me, you don't want to do that." He walked to the same door the coach had used and left.

The coach decided to pay a visit to his department head, he left with what Ducky would call a flea in his ear and a clear threat to his job if he ever pulled a stunt like that again.

.

Tony drove home and parked in the loading dock. It was huge and high, built to accommodate the taller heavy trucks of the time, but not high enough or big enough to accommodate an 18-wheeler which was the reason it had been abandoned. He stopped to look around and realized that, with the three wide doors his new garage was capable of housing at least nine, and possibly more, cars or trucks. He decided to mark out wide parking spaces and see what he had. He was going to buy himself a truck and possibly a motorcycle.

He paced off the room just by walking it. His standard stride was about thirty inches so he would have a good idea how much room he had. It turned out that each door was 24 feet wide with a two foot pillar between them. The loading dock was 76 feet wide. If he just marked it out with three spaces per door that made three spaces for him, one each for Ducky, Jimmy, and Gibbs, and three for guests. He could envision a neatly painted name on each space.

He wandered in using the walk-in door beside the huge loading dock door and hung his coat up in the mud room. He'd had to put that up himself. The original builder had intended the front door to be the main entryway. Tony was not about to park in the garage then walk all the way around the building when there was a perfectly good door in the garage. He'd just had some hooks put in the wall at the very wide corner between the back hall and the side hall. There was plenty of room for several.

As he walked through the kitchen he turned on the coffee pot and the TV, he'd left the remote at the coffee station when he'd left. He trotted up the stairs and into his private suite. He gave his suit the sniff test and decided it needed cleaning so he hung it in the area designated 'need to be cleaned' and changed into jeans, henley, t-shirt and flannel over shirt. He decided on slippers instead of boots then headed back down to get some coffee and settle in to do some of the endless round of paper work.

He swore that he was going to put each and every single piece of paper on a separate flat surface so they couldn't breed like rabbits. He signed yet another bit of red tape and tossed it into the out box. Why he couldn't do all this on-line was beyond him.

He heard a ping from his computer and decided to check his email just to get a break from paperwork. He open his client and blinked, he had several emails from Jen, of course, a couple from Gibbs, Ducky, and Jimmy and one from Abby. He ignored Jen, it was all going to be the same thing, What's going on with my op? Gibbs sent one email offering to put his coat hooks up to make sure they were in a stud. He wondered what the hell a stud had to do with coat hooks, he was totally ignorant of carpentry and admitted it without shame. He opened the next one; it was offering to return to help finish moving bookcases, if he needed. The last one was to tell him about Ziva. He was glad that she was denied travel papers, he didn't need her showing up at his door. Ducky just asked Tony to please consider forgiving Gibbs. Jimmy wanted to know how the piano was. Abby apologized very nicely for being a 'giant, whiney, bitchy bad friend' . Her words, not his. She also offered anything he wanted as a peace offering, including her favorite collar.

He replied to Gibbs in one mail, saying that he was free to come any day after work and do whatever with the hooks and help him finish moving and bracing the bookcases. He admitted that he was sure they needed bracing as a couple of them wobbled alarmingly when he touched them. He ignored the question of Ziva as he had read about her in an email from the embassy. He told Ducky that he and Gibbs were making up but he was taking it slowly and establishing some very firm boundaries. Jimmy got a quick mail that said the piano was perfect and would he please return in six months to retune it, and every six months after that. He also told Jimmy that he was paying the going rate and to shut up about it. Abby got a rather cold message that he was still very pissed at her and hoped she would make arrangements to pay for the damages as soon as she could. He also told her she was going to pay him for all of it and she could sue Ziva for her half.

After all that he wasn't in the mood to do more paperwork so he decided to set up his studio. He had a Bow-Flex and a Nordic-track treadmill delivered at the same time as his furniture and had been lucky enough to get the delivery men to put everything together for him.

He got everything out and spread it all over the breakfast bar. He realized that he really needed a taboret of some kind but his Guerrilla box would do for an easel, for now. He went into one of the sitting areas and got an occasional table that he didn't like much and repurposed it as a work table to put some things on. The box would hold his block, brushes, and palette, but he still needed something for a roll of paper towels, water containers, and a few bits and pieces.

Since he wanted to set up his palette he started a color chart for mixing. He had his initial palette guide but he was having second thoughts about the arrangement and choice of colors. He happily spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening making his color book, blending each color with every other on a grid, then filling his palettes. He went to bed tired and satisfied.

.Tuesday

Since he didn't have a lecture until late, Tony slept in a bit then went for a run on his treadmill. He'd rather run outside but it was getting too cold for his lungs to like it. He also did a round of strength training on the Bow-Flex. A shower, some breakfast and he was back to what to do.

He decided to try to paint something. That led him to the realization that he had no inspiration. He poked around a bit but decided to just stare at the paper for a while, hoping for something to hit him.

He played with colors for a bit, just doing some wet in wet sky to ground blend and settled to wait for it to dry. He liked watercolors but, like oil they needed time to dry. He had considered acrylics but he did't have any experience with them and was a bit put off. He thought he might get a few colors to mess with but that meant he needed canvases or boards.

He cleaned his brushes then wandered around the room for a bit. He finally settled to try to watch something about touring Great Britain. He watched with an eye for something to paint but finally shut it off in favor of going over his lecture notes and the class roll.

He finally stopped fussing and fixed some lunch. He decided he was going to have to move a few things. Who wanted their glasses all the way across the kitchen from the fridge? And he needed part of his plates by the range and part of them at the breakfast bar. He made mental notes of what he wanted to do then shook his head. He had so much going on that he was going to make actual notes on paper or he'd forget something important.

After one last cup of coffee he picked up his messenger bag and, on an impulse, tucked his travel palette and a block of paper into it.

The lecture went off like a charm. Everyone paid attention, took notes, and asked intelligent questions. He assigned the movie for next session and answered the same question as last lecture. He decided to have his TA, Hamilton 'call me 'Ham' Bowman, make up a hand out about where, how, and when to watch the assignment. He answered a couple of questions by students who stayed behind and told one young woman flatly that flirting with him would cost not gain points. She frowned then flounced off, texting furiously.

Tony shook his head then turned to Ham and said, "If she shows up for an appointment for a … any reason, make sure that Kiran or Tabitha are in my office before her."

"You got it." Ham's cheerful grin made Tony sigh. "No biggie. You wouldn't believe how many professors, men and women, have the same arrangements."

Tony thought about that while he got his things together. "Yeah, I probably would. Make up a hand out with instructions on how, when, and where to watch their assignments for next week, please. Well, I'm gone."

"Bye." Ham returned to what he'd been doing.

Tony wandered the campus just enjoying the warm day. It was predicted to be the last warm day of fall, winter was breathing its frosty breath down the back of their necks.

It didn't take him long to find a nice, sheltered but sunny place to sit. He got out his block and settled back to sketch the building in front of him. It was old, part of the original campus, covered in some sort of vine that wasn't ivy, and interesting.

He spent an hour sketching the building, bits of cornice, window frames, and some bushes. He decided to wait until he got back home before adding any color.

Tony ambled back to his car, put his bag on the floor in the back seat and settled behind the wheel. He was just about to turn the key when his phone rang. It was Jeanne, he knew because he'd assigned her a personal ring tone.

"Jeanne."

"Tony. We need to talk."

Tony winced, nothing good ever came from starting a conversation with those words.

"Face-to-face or now."

"I'd like to just get this over with." He could hear her draw a deep breath. "I saw my father while I was at the convention. He … he said you're not a professor. He said you work for NCIS and are harassing him … I mean NCIS is. Why are you interested in me?"

Tony gave it up without a thought. "I was assigned to romance you to see if you knew anything about your father's activities."

"I see. Mother left Father when I was about four. She left because she couldn't condone his activities. I don't know anything about what he does, other than it's illegal. I'm not interested in it, I'm not involved in it. And I don't want to be. He offered to have you beaten up for me. I said no, so relax. But I don't want anything to do with you. Never contact me again." She drew another deep breath, let it out on a heavy sigh then demanded, "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

"No. I pretty much don't. I'd say sorry, but that's meaningless. I'm glad you aren't involved in your father's business. I hope you have a nice life. Good-bye." And with that hope, he hung up.

He wasn't even going to call Jen. She'd find out through the grape vine that he'd been dropped. He just hoped that Madam Director didn't try to rope some other poor fool into this op. It was way more dangerous than he'd been told. Monsieur Benoit had more of an eye on his daughter than anyone had thought.

His phone rang again just as he was trying to decide what to do next. "DiNozzo."

"Well, well, Professor DiNozzo. A pleasure."

"Kort. What the fuck do you want?"

"I just want to explain to you what a bad move it would be to continue Madam Director's vendetta against a CIA asset. Leave Benoit alone. The young lady knows little to nothing about what her father gets up to."

Tony snickered. "Kort? Tell you what … I'll just throw this out there and let you deal. I quit NCIS, never mind why. Jeanne just broke up with me over the phone. I'd be delighted if you'd handle Madam Director. I like being Professor DiNozzo so, if you mess this up for me, you'll find out why Don Macaluso still considers me one of his best enforcers."

"I see. Well, we're on the same page then. I have no intention of interfering in your life. And I'll be happy to keep Madam Director from doing so as well. All we want is for you, specifically, not to mix in things."

Tony let Kort sweat for a moment then said, "Deal. And Kort? You owe me."

"I do?" Kort knew he did but he wasn't about to admit it if he could get out of it.

"You do and you know it. I'll call when the debt comes due." Tony hug up.