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Amicus Verus Est Rara Avis

A true friend is a rare bird

The rain was falling down heavily, the air smelled of wet asphalt and garbage, and the light was dim even though it was barely twelve am. Tony stood outside the rundown apartment building, two bags in his hands and a white truck behind him. The rain was plastering his light brown hair to his head, dripping into his eyes as he stood in front of the peeling building.

Sighing tiredly, Tony dragged his reluctant feet towards the building, hoping it looked better on the inside then on the outside.

The hallway was quite dark, a flickering lamp hanging brokenly from the ceiling and a couple of green mailboxes lined the wall to the right. Tony screwed his face in disgust, turning towards the stairs.

The stairs creaked ominously as he dragged his bags up, his frown growing darker the farther up he came. He stopped on the third and final floor, quickly finding the door to his new home.

The door whined as he opened it, making chills travel down his back. He felt his face fall as he took in the shabby room.

Ugh, he needed to clean.

Sighing, Tony made his way to the only bedroom. His heart sank down to his toes as he saw the cramped space; way too small for his beloved queen sized bed. He glared at the floor, where big dust bunnies whirled past his shiny shoes.

This was an all time low. Karma was finally making him its bitch. He had been waiting for it; the good luck had to run dry at some point, right?

He had been without a job for about a month now; making it only on the monthly payments the shares his mother had left him in DiNozzo Inc. His father was as absent as usual – no help there. It wasn't like was going to call Senior, either, though. The older man had sufficiently blocked him out of his life; Tony could take a hint, after all.

The fact was; he hadn't been given his last pay check before he quit BPD. Tony had realised that the investigation IA ran on him would ruin any chance of working there, ever again. Tony knew he was in the right – he knew IA couldn't pin anything on him, but that didn't mean the other cops in BPD would ever want to work with him again. Tony figured the missed pay check was a parting gift from his former Chief. He had pissed off his former boss by letting his stubborn partner get shot (like he would let anyone get shot!), who just happened to be the chief's goddaughter's husband. Yes, it was indeed a small world.

He didn't report it; he didn't think it was his place to nag on them for his pay check when they had lost someone dear to them. He didn't see the need to irritate them further.

So he had made without; the sum in his bank account getting smaller and smaller. The damned investigation took a month before they came to the conclusion that the circumstances couldn't have given any other result. At that time, Tony had been without a job for weeks, and was seriously feeling the situation. He had grumbled long and hard before he called Gibbs back. It was most fortunate for Tony that he and his partner had been trying to solve the murder of a Marine at the time of the shooting.

Tony wasn't really sure if Agent Gibbs wanted him on his team anymore (considering IA had done some damage even though he came off scot free), when he made the phone call. The elder man had ordered him to get his ass to DC and into the office. He started on Monday. No questions asked.

Tony had of course panicked, and rented the first cheap apartment he saw; which was the one he was standing in.

Sighing in defeat, Tony tried to find some garage he could stash his too-big-furniture while he saved up for a better place. It was going to be good to have a steady pay check again.

He was about to check out the bathroom when his phone rang. And icy feeling settled in his stomach as he read the name on the display.

"DiNozzo," He said weakly, waiting for the storm that would greet him.

It was early Sunday; he wasn't supposed to be in the office before the next day, but with Gibbs you never really knew.

"Pack your things, DiNozzo," was the curt reply.

Tony felt the disappointment come rushing forward, nearly choking him. He refused to let the burning tears fall, as he felt his knees go weak with too many emotions.

Gibbs had come to his senses and decided that Tony wasn't anything to save; he was the bastard that got the good cop, who had a wife and children, killed; he was the neglected son of a millionaire who hadn't spoken to him since he were twelve. He was nothing.

"Snap out of it DiNozzo!"

Tony woke slightly from his depressed state by Gibbs' sharp voice by his ear. The warm hands that settled on his shoulders only added to the confusion. How had he missed the creaky floorboards?

Then L. Jethro Gibbs' face hovered in front of his on pale one, looking worried and stern all together. The sky blue eyes bored into his muddy green ones; the confusion melted away.

"Boss?" he asked wearily, "How did you..." Tony trailed off, knowing what a stupid question it was.

Gibbs' face developed into a frown as he let his eyes rake over the filthy apartment.

"I thought I told you to tell me if you needed help?" Gibbs said, fixing his stare on Tony's face again, making the younger man fidget slightly.

Gibbs stood when he didn't get an answer, picked up the two bags placed by the door and walked out of the apartment, letting Tony scramble after him in confusion.

"Hey, where are you going?" Tony asked as he jogged after the form of his new boss.

Gibbs didn't answer, only slung the offending bags into the front seat of his truck. He nodded his head towards the white truck Tony had borrowed from one of his frat buddies.

"Follow me," Gibb said, getting into the car and slamming the door.

Tony felt a spark of anger course through him. Who did Gibbs think he was? Fine, he was his new boss at work, but this was certainly not a job situation; this was his private life he was messing with.

When Tony didn't move towards the car, Gibbs grew impatience and stuck his head out of the car window.

"Hey, DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled through the still pounding rain, "You're going to catch death standing there, get in the car."

"Where are we going?" Tony asked, not hiding the anger that simmered close to the surface. His face set in a stubborn frown as he stared his boss in the eyes. Gibbs smiled slightly at the younger man, nodding his head softly towards the white truck parked in front of Tony.

"My place, DiNozzo," The ex-marine called, "I'm not going to let you catch pneumonia by living in a dump of an apartment – with no heating, I might add."

With that, Gibbs started the car, gunning the gas to get the Italian to hurry.

Tony stared silently, in slight awe at the long speech. He had never heard Gibbs say so much in one sentence before.

Gibbs honked the horn irritably, a scowl firmly in place.

Tony climbed into the truck, a small smile growing on his wet face. Perhaps he had gained a friend that faithful night in Baltimore?

Edited 5 October, 2011