For scouse, who's keeping me on track to finish this story. Not beta'd, all idiot mistakes are mine.
Thought it might be nice to wrap this story up before season 12, as it was based on the tail end of season 10! As I probably mentioned in another note, I had to change my original story line on this because it was based on show canon, and then the show itself did a 180 and pretty much tossed it all out the window. So, basically, this doesn't follow canon after the end of season 10.
Normally I never apologize for my stories, but I do have to say I'm 'regretful' for my long absence in updating my stories. Hopefully I'll have more time and energy now that summer is coming to a close.
Kate had always teased him about his partying frat-boy ways, but truth be told, Tony hadn't taken a vacation longer than a few days, tops, since he'd left Baltimore. There were times he yearned to for a week on the beach, and times he'd come close to just walking out of the bullpen after a rough day with Gibbs, disappearing onto the crowded beltway and driving until he ran out of gas and setting up a new life there. Now he'd had the chance, legitimately, to spend a week on the beach and disappear into a crowd, and he had done both for several months.
Starting out with a visit to his father in Milan, he'd been given the fifty cent tour (to the tune of several thousand dollars) of Senior's latest 'big one', the deal that would set them both up for life thanks to the underwriting of Prince Omar Ibn Alwaan, affectionately known as 'Al' by Tony's father. Senior had wined and dined him, bragged and boasted about his new business, then slapped him on the back after a couple of days and pretty much dismissed him as a nuisance, so why didn't he 'run along to Monte Carlo and maybe he'd meet him there in a few days'?
Tony had smiled, nodded his head, thanked the Prince for his hospitality and, when Senior was out of earshot, thanked him also for indulging the man in his latest get-rich-quick scheme. For his part, Prince Omar had smiled knowingly and pressed an envelope into Tony's hand, insisting he take it and not make any fuss over it. Tony couldn't deny the man the request, after all he had done for Senior, and the Prince had squeezed his arm in a kindly way, and smiled as he retreated with his entourage.
Later on in his hotel room, Tony had remembered the envelope and after pouring a drink of the hotel's best bourbon, opened it to find a set of car keys and a cashier's check for double the amount Tony had shelled out to pay for his father's Adam's House bill and trip to Monte Carlo those years ago, with a note explaining things. It was in what Tony suspected was 'Al's' own handwriting and he smiled at the time and effort the busy man took to write it himself.
Dear Anthony -
It was a pleasure spending time with you again, your father was in his element showing you off to all of us. I suspect that you're just passing through, however, and I certainly understand that. Your father tells me that you resigned from your position at NCIS; he wasn't sure of the details, but spoke of a falling out between you and your team mates. Perhaps he has things misconstrued; I hope so for your sake. If, however, it is indeed true, then you may need a bit of cash to tide you over. I think we both know what the money signifies. You are a good son, and as you now know, good sons are not so easy to come by these days! I think you'll like the car, your father told me about what happened to your last one. Please don't waste a moment trying to return any of this to me; as the saying goes, it's a mere drop of water in the bucket for me. Enjoy it. You, of all young men I have known, deserve it.
Cordially, Omar Ibin Alwaan.
Well. That had been totally unexpected. He dropped the letter and cashier's check to the hotel room's desk top and rubbed his face tiredly with both hands. He hadn't come there to turn into his old man, in fact he wasn't even sure why he had traveled half way around the world to spend time with the unrepentant con artist. If he had been looking for a port in the storm after the fubar 'case' that Gibbs had coerced him into, his father was the last person to offer sympathy. The man was not only his usual self-absorbed self, he kept that smug 'I told you so' look on his face for so long that Tony knew his stay in Milan would be a short one. Just as well, he decided, as any length of time spent with dear old dad usually turned into some sort of major catastrophe.
So why had he cometo Milan when he'd gotten the unexpected invitation from Senior?
Damned if he knew. Since when had the thought of spending time with someone who had cruelly edited him out of his life for over twenty five years become more appealing than trying to sort things out with his teammates? He took another drink of the top-shelf liquor and scratched the side of his chin, leaning back into the pillows with a sigh, closing his eyes as the possibilities tore around inside his head.
I wanted to throw it in their faces that, as asinine as the man can be, I have a father to go to. Someone whose shit you all think doesn't stink to high heaven..that for once, I have something that you don't, even if it's only a shred of what I really want.
Because it was really all about competing, wasn't it? It was never about being a team, working together like a sports team does, all the different talent and positions coming together to make a functioning whole that was better than the other team.
It was a middle school playground, where the kids took sides, formed rivalries, showed everyone how rotten little kids could be and what they'd most likely be like as adults. Gibbs had been the king of the playground, the bully that you either sucked up to or ran away from. He was supposed to be the watchful teacher, but somewhere along the way he'd forgotten that and sat back to watch and laugh as the tough kids knocked the more tender-hearted ones off the swings and slides. Hell, sometimes he even joined in, dropping the least popular one right off the monkey bars with a foot to the fingers or pulling down his pants for the entire playground to see.
Before he left the District, before everything had fallen apart entirely,Tony had cornered Ziva when she had least expected it, giving her a taste of her medicine by following her into the ladies room. He had meant to keep things civil, to simply get an answer to his questions, but things had ended up digressing, as he should have known they would in both their frames of mind.
"Tony, I did not hear you behind me. Obviously you have learned some things from me since I have been here.""Oh, I've learned plenty from you, Zee-vah.."
And his voice was playful, light, and she couldn't discern if he was mocking her or thanking her. There had been so much that she hadn't been able to discern about him – and that had been so extremely problematic for her that he had driven her mad, driven her to lose her considerable composure and lash out at him, as if it was his fault that he was better at cloaking himself than she was at seeing inside of him.She kept her face passive, though it took some effort with the exhaustion that had settled into her mind and bones.
"You have something important to tell me? I thought you had already left." "I have something important to ask you, Ziva. Now that it's too late. Now that it doesn't really
This wasn't what she had expected. Nothing could have been farther from that than this question. How could he have known, Gibbs would never have betrayed that secret to him, not for any reason.
"I do not understand, Tony." she affected a tired sigh, as if weary of his childish games. "I do not know what it is you are talking about, this deception. I was invited to our team by Director Shepard, and then allowed to stay by Gibbs. I have worked hard to prove myself to you, to the entire team. I did not deceive anyone."
"I knew you wouldn't be able to answer the question. You deflected. Turned it back to be about you. It was always about you, wasn't it? What was in it for you? What you could take away from the job and use for your cause. Then it got even bigger than that. It got away from you. You not only wanted information for Mossad, you wanted what I had. Like it wasn't bad enough that McGee was already learning how to twist Gibbs around his little finger by making me look like the mean, jealous older brother who'd just slammed little Timmy's hand in the car door on purpose." "Tony, where is this coming from, how can you..." Now she was on full alert, all residue of fatigue banished to the ethers.
"How can I say such mean things? How can I accuse you both of finding my biggest weakness and teaming up to destroy me with it? Neither of you liked me when you came onto the team, and you certainly didn't respect me. It was easier to get onto Gibbs' side if I was made out to be the idiot child in the corner. He could ignore me and give his energy to you two.
"After a while it didn't even matter what he gave you, you both threw it back in his face, what with Timmy's little back-stabbing book writing gig going on without a clue, and your constant refusal to understand what the definition of team really was. After a while it just got to be a game of one-up-man-ship, trying to out-do each other in making me look like an ass." "If this was all true, if this is how you saw things for so many years, why did you not try to stop us? Or just leave?"
"Stop you? As if there was any stopping the two of you once you got on the 'let's destroy Tony' train. Even Kate in her worst PMS moment couldn't cut me off at the knees like the two of you could, and she never, ever even thought about not covering my six. Any time I did complain, I got accused of being childish. When I tried to be professional and just ignore it and do my job, everybody wigged out because I wasn't acting like my idiot self. As far as leaving goes, you don't know how many times I was on the verge of it. Then my pride got in the way, and I'd get mad and remember that I was here first. I was Gibbs' lead dog before you two came along and made me the one who runs along behind stepping in everyone else's shit. Sometimes I could see myself catching back up to him, only to have you play the 'daddy was a bastard to me' card so I need a new one -" Her hand was a blur as it flew up to slap him, but he saw it coming by the hot fury in her eyes, and managed to block it, feeling the iron behind the diminutive arm.
"How dare you talk of my father like that now, after he is murdered in cold blood!" "Oh, right...you're the only one who's allowed to tell everyone what a piece of shit for a father he was when he was alive, and now that he's dead, he's a saint who deserved so much better than what he dished out to everybody else in his lifetime! I don't have the time or inclination to get into that with you, and I'm not gonna stand here and let you slap me around because you can't handle the truth. You couldn't handle the truth from Tom Morrow and look where it got us!" "Then why did you help us, if you thought we were so wrong in our judgment?" "Because I didn't trust McGee to be able to watch Gibbs' six, and he's so stuck on you he was willing to go along with whatever you asked him to do! Just cry a few tears and look like a tragic little girl and he's done for. You knew it when you came here and you took advantage of it every damned chance you got! And I was willing to take a back seat on the team as long as he and McGee didn't get caught up in the crossfire of one of your little vendettas, but this went way beyond that and you didn't care what the consequences were as long as you got what you wanted. How does it feel, Ziva, to have gotten exactly what you wanted only to find out it was totally the wrong thing? That you were so damned obsessed with finding and killing Bodnar that you couldn't pull your head out of your ass and listen to reason? Gibbs went along with your obsession because he understood what it was like to have one, no matter how unreasonable. At least he went after the right guy! And when things started going to hell he kept backing you up anyways 'cause you were in too damned deep to pull you back out!" "And you? You still have not answered my question as to why you continued to help me even after you were convinced I was wrong?" "Because even though it didn't mean anything to anyone else, I was still his second, and seconds follow orders and cover their boss's and the rest of their teammates' asses. Something you still don't understand even after all these years on this team. Tim was beginning to understand it when you blew onto the scene and started using him as your own personal weapon against me. That's when the double-teaming started. Even Kate in her most foul of moods couldn't cut me off at the knees like the two of you could, and she never, ever even thought about leaving me swinging in the wind. I wasn't going to stoop to your level and cut and run just because I was
pissed at you guys. Gibbs gave up everything to help you, I wasn't about to bail on him when he needed me the most."
"You are a soft touch, DiNozzo. You would never have lasted as a Mossad agent."
Her voice was full of scorn, with a touch of patronizing humor, but Tony was used to that he'd heard it from her a thousand times over the years.
"And I thank God for that everyday. This job has done a lot of things to hurt me, but I've still been able to preserve at least a shred of selflessness within myself. You lied to us about Rivkin, and then put the blame all on me when it went all to hell, you lied to us about your father being here and then covered for him, but worst of all, you put yourself above the team when you made up your mind to avenge him no matter the consequences. You notice I say the team, and not your team. It was never your team, just some wagon you hitched a ride on to get you to your next gig. You and Jen Shepard were cut from the same cloth. In the end, hell, maybe the entire time, it was all about you. And everyone else bought into it, except for me. And that's why you hated me so much. It must have been a real shock to your system to come up against a guy you couldn't seduce in one way or the other – either by fear for their lives, or sex, or maybe both at the same time, I dunno." "So you are saying that none of those times that we were close, that we shared something intimate, meant anything to you?"
"If by intimate you mean push-ups in a hotel bed, then, yes, it meant something to me. It meant I was doing my job and if you ever took it for anything more than that then you were looking too deeply for it. Did I have vulnerable moments that you took advantage of? Yeah, I did. But then you'd slam the door shut on my hand by telling Gibbs I was 'dead weight', or better yet, getting me sent to Israel to be interrogated by your father and then trying to get me kicked off the team." "I never told him to kick you off the team, I merely – I told him I could not work with you, that
I could not trust you!"
"Yeah. You couldn't trust me. That was rich. After all those months lying to us about Michael. And how did that work out for you, Ziva?"
"You do not understand! You will never understand what it was like to grow up as I did, to have been born and raised to be nothing but a tool and a weapon in my father's maniacal game! I have done what I've done to survive, and I will never second-guess myself, no matter what you or anyone else accuse me of!" "So I say again...you ruined all of our lives and careers by avenging a man you despised. And by the way, you have no idea what I endured at the hands of that man that you and the rest of the team seem to think walks on water. If you knew even one iota of what it was like, you wouldn't be throwing yourself at him like a cheap whore every time he comes into the bullpen. But I digress, wasting my time talking about him. All I really wanted to ask you was why you so determined to lead a team you had so little respect for – though I'm pretty sure that you figured once you had my job, you could convince Gibbs eventually to boot me out. You'd had him fooled for quite a while about why you saved his life by killing your own brother...or did you? Maybe he was using you as much as you were using him. Or, us, as it turned out. Was there ever a time when you thought of us as more than playthings, Ziva?"
She looked away from him, her eyes actually tearing-up at his question.
"Tell you the truth, lie to you, what difference can it possibly make now?" "And how would I possibly know the difference at this point? That's the most important thing."
"I -there was time -" she stumbled on her words, trying to collect her thoughts after having this man, this – excuse for an SFA – leave them in tatters. "I have never allowed myself – have never been allowed to have feelings for my teammates other than what they can or cannot contribute to a mission. Any time I expressed any sort of emotions other than complete dedication to Mossad, they were ruthlessly quashed. There is no room for them, no – place for them in Mossad. There is only the cause. And though it was true that I felt certain feelings towards all of you, and not necessarily romantic, a little voice would warn me that I was letting myself get too close -" "And yet you decided to go to the trouble of becoming a U.S. Citizen so you could become a bona fide NCIS agent for what, to torture us to death? Or me, at least? 'Cause you came pretty damned close more than once, and in the end, all you had to do was go vigilante and kill the wrong man, and voila, we're done! Gibbs is on some suicide mission, McGee is getting inundated with teaching offers from universities, and I'm a forty-something year old man looking for a job in a field dominated by McGees, which in case you don't know, means pretty much every damned field that's out there! This was my life, Ziva. Working here, working for Gibbs, even in his most bastard-ass days, it meant everything to me, I gave it everything I had. And I watched it all get flushed down the crapper because you wouldn't open your blind eyes or your closed little mind and see that maybe, just maybe you were wrong.
"You've been wrong lots of times since you've been here, Ziva, and it stung, but mainly just me. This time the shit didn't just land on me, you spread it around to my team. My team, long before you blew onto the scene, it was my team, to watch out for and protect. You hurt them, and you tore apart the only family I had." "I – you have to believe that, no matter what you think of me – what you think my intentions have been – I never intended to cause the upset that has been the fallout of my actions -" "Wh-what the hell did you think was going to happen, Ziva? You drag the team into an assassination on a man you think killed your father but had no concrete proof, did you think the powers that be were going to sweep it all under the rug, or give you a god damned medal?" "I am being punished by being sent back to Israel with no ability to cross your border again for at least several years, if ever." "Yeah. That's real punishment. You do realize that if I had gone rogue and caused what you call this 'upset', I'd be behind bars awaiting my sentencing to a life-long stint in a federal prison. Probably not even a trial by jury, just the JAG making a verdict and tossing the key. Of course, it wouldn't be a lifetime for me, unless my lifetime is around a few days, as I'd be brutally murdered by any number of crooks I sent there in my years as a cop and agent. So forgive me if I don't get all weepy over the fact that your Mossad connections got you off the hook yet again when you lost all connection with reality again and forgot that you weren't actually working for them anymore. Old habits die hard, I sure as hell know that from bitter personal experience, but you went too far this time, Ziva. More people than you and Bodnar got hurt. And as pissed as I am at Gibbs right now for enabling you in your little vendetta, I'll hold you personally responsible if he doesn't come back from whatever hell hole they sent him to."
"I was so sure it was him, Tony, I -" "Jesus, Ziva, it doesn't matter if it was him or God himself who killed them, it was unsanctioned, you were ordered to stop and let Homeland take care of it, and you didn't! You think you're the only one who has lost someone violently before their time? That half the population doesn't want to go hunt down someone who hurt them and put a bullet between their eyes? What entitles you to think you're so special that you can be a U.S citizen and still break our laws with impunity?" "I am no longer a citizen, and never will be again." "Well, I hope it was worth it, then. Although I have my doubts about how serious you were about wanting to become one, as opposed to being told to become one. Nothing like having your bread buttered on both sides." "What do you want from me, Tony? What is it you are seeking that you did not already know, as you seem to have all the answers to my life's motivations? I am banished back to Israel, to work for a woman I despise, with no one left to protect me. Ari is dead, Michael is dead, now my father...I have no one. And my father's killer still lives." "Did you not even consider that as a consequence when you started this whole crapshoot?"
Her voice was barely audible, and yet hard with conviction when she answered him.
"It was worth the risk to me." "Then suck it up and deal with the fallout. The rest of us have to, and it's not exactly like any of us have a welcoming circle of family and friends to soften the blow." "No. It would seem that we are all dysfunctional beyond any hope. Abby seems to be the only one with any sort of safety net to resort to. And I am sorry for that, truthfully, I am. When I first came here, when I was Ari's handler, I had no idea that things would go so – off-kilter. I did not know that he planned to kill Caitlyn Todd. I did not want to believe he was so out of control. And a part of me died when I – put an end to his insanity. And yes, I was instructed to gain Gibbs' trust and become part of your team. Jenny was pressured into it by my father, she did not think that – that I was a suitable match for any of you, save perhaps Gibbs. After a while, I – came to be fond of you, of all of you. I even fancied I was a bit enamored with you in particular, and had no doubt that I could bend you to my will as I have any other man I put my mind to. We both know how that turned out. You allowed me to think that you were a clueless dolt, with no more right to be Jethro Gibbs' second-in-command than Samuel who cleans our restrooms and collects our trash." "Sam's a good guy. He puts in a long day, takes care of his mom, never heard him say anything bad about anybody. He could probably work his way up." Tony told her in all seriousness. Ziva couldn't stop the small smile that formed at Tony's defense of a fellow employee, no matter their status in the hierarchy of the agency.
"Yes, he probably could, but that is not the point I was trying to make." "I know. You got it in your head that I was all brawn and no brains and why the hell didn't Gibbs fire me and give you my job?" "At first, yes. Then I came to understand that you were not quite the dim light – dim bulb – that you wanted us to believe you were. Why hide your talents, Tony, why play the fool and have others think badly of you?" "For the same reason you hide your weapons in under your clothes. No one would suspect you're capable of gutting them where they stand by what they see on the outside. It's a defense mechanism, just like yours. I developed mine about the time I was old enough to talk. Probably about the same time as you. I thought I stopped needing to use it once I joined up with Gibbs, but then I woke up one morning and found my partner's dried blood and brains still in my hair, and some surly chick who couldn't wait to de-ball me sitting at her desk. Came back loud and in living color after that. In fact it's gotten so over-used that I don't even realize what I'm saying or doing half the time. It's a wonder Gibbs hasn't head-slapped me all the way to the Hoover Building."
"He would never give you up, nor give up on you. I know he has hurt you in ways that you did not deserve, but you are a part of him, and always will be. If I was completely honest with you, I would answer your original question with a question. Do you have any idea how incredibly envious I was of your relationship with him? The easy way you had of defusing him, of putting that smile in his eyes, of making him proud of you? My own father could not give me that kind of praise, no matter how begrudging or subtle.
"No matter my accomplishment, it only meant I needed to do better, do more! And you, all you had to do was give him the smallest of leads, or act like a buffoon or – or give him that look, that look that McGee called your 'little Orphan Annie' look, whatever that meant – and he became a father again. I hated you for that, Tony, and I got McGee to hate you for that, because we did not know about your own poor excuse for a father, and how was it fair that an undeserving schmuck like you got to have two proud fathers when we ourselves had none? I will not deny that I along with McGee made your life a misery for so many years – I will never be accused of playing fairly with my rivals. And you were a rival, from the very moment I realized the sort of man Jethro Gibbs was beneath his anger and stubbornness. I wanted to please him, to make him proud of me, to see me over the top of you." "I wasn't opposed to sharing him, Ziva, but you never gave me the chance. You just turned him against me, until I was on the outside looking in. Do you have any idea what it felt like to.." He sighed, shoulders sagging, and looked at his watch. Almost 0:300, they had been there arguing for almost half an hour. Nothing more could be accomplished by delving further into hurt feelings and daddy issues.
"Look, I never should have started this, it doesn't change what's happened or the consequences. I'm just really, really tired, and sad, and looking for a fight. For what it's worth, I'm not glad you're getting deported, I just...all these years I put my heart and soul into this team to see it torn apart over a man I couldn't even stomach. It makes no sense to me, and I don't understand why I let myself get caught up in the whole thing. I saw the writing on the wall and I ignored it, so I got what I deserved. It can't ever be proven that I don't watch my partner's six." "No, Tony, it cannot. I have never met anyone in all my life who gave so much of himself to his team. I am only sorry that I did not realize it much sooner instead of being angry that you would not bend to my will." "You came along after a long line of heart - burners, Ziva, and I wasn't about to let you be another one. You showed up with a giant neon sign over your head. Tempted as I was, I wasn't as idiotic as most everybody thought. It was fun to tease, but dangerous to touch. And as it turns out, you were just as damaged as I was. Nothing could have come of that much heartache. Gibbs' rules aren't always out-dated. He was right on the money with number twelve." "Yes. The wise Jethro Gibbs. I will be in Tel Aviv by tomorrow afternoon. You will be – God only knows where by then. You do not owe me anything now, but I would still beg a favor of you – please keep me informed of what happens to you all, or at least have McGee contact me somehow. Just because I let my obsession get the better of me and lost my way does not mean I do not care for my friends."
"I'll see what I can do. No promises, Abby's really pissed with all of us right now, and McGee's feeling a bit touchy himself. Give it some time, Zee. Let us get used to the way things are now and go from there." "Yes. Of course. Well, I must finish gathering up my belongings and find a security guard to escort me out of the building. I see you and McGee have already cleared out your desks, it was..unbearably sad to see such emptiness.." "Don't go there, Ziva, neither one of us is strong enough right now. Go home. Get some sleep. Make the best of what you can back in Israel, I'll do the same here. Maybe we'll all come over and visit you someday." "I would like that, Tony. I -" She sighed and looked away from him, unable to stand to see the sadness in his eyes. Sadness that she helped put there. "Yes. Well. Until then, be well. I will be in touch."
He'd left the building in a funk that night, gone home and packed a bag, and dropped of Kate the goldfish with Ducky to tend to her. A cab had taken him to the airport, where he'd impulsively bought a ticket to Milan after swearing a few weeks ago he would never take his father up on the invitation to come see his latest 'investment', aka, 'get-rich-quick' scheme financed by the ever-patient Prince Omar.
And now here he was, alone after being summarily dismissed yet again by his too-busy father,sitting and worrying about a man who, despite his glaring faults, meant more to Tony than anything in his life ever had. More than once he had been asked why he remained so loyal to such a true bastard, and Tony would just smile and shrug his wide shoulders as if he really wasn't sure himself. But the truth of it was, despite Tony's seeming obliviousness, he was well aware of his ability to annoy, irritate and piss off anyone within visual distance with his breath-taking brand of childish behavior; humorous when he was a college student, not so much as a forty-plus year old professional.
Gibbs was about the only person maladjusted enough to not only put up with him, but love him in his own gruff way. No one else in his life had ever taken the time to understand why he behaved the way he did. Even Tony didn't know the answer to that, but bastard as he was, Gibbs knew how to be a dad, not just a sperm donor, and he knew the differences between the two, and that DiNozzo, Senior was certainly not the former.
And even though his boss had let Tony down in some big ways, he'd buoyed him up and kept him afloat in a thousand little ones. He didn't think he owed Gibbs anything after being the dutiful Senior Field Agent against his better judgment and getting his ass kicked soundly for the effort, but he hadn't been forced to participate in the whole sordid disaster, either. Gibbs had privately offered him a no questions asked 'out' to the spiraling witch hunt one night in his basement, and Tony had stared at him blankly, wondering if the man had finally snapped completely from the pressure he was under supporting Ziva. He'd informed the man that he wasn't going to dignify the offer with any sort of answer, and left the man standing wordlessly watching him march stiffly up the stairs and leave.
He hadn't cut and run for Ziva, and he'd been more than a little disgusted with her recent amnesia as an NCIS agent and American citizen. He wasn't going to abandon the man who had supported her not just because of Jackie Vance, but because with or without her team's help, Ziva would have hunted down Bodnar, and as shitty as things had ended for all of them, they could have ended a whole lot worse for her had she been left to her own devices. And that, Gibbs could not have lived with. Tony had an idea where Gibbs was and what he was doing, Fornell had seen to that before he'd left for Milan, but it wasn't something to go in with guns blazing and rescue the man. But he planned to be there for him to buy him a drink when the assignment was done, and if instead Gibbs ended up going back to D.C in a body-bag, Tony intended to be there for him for that, too.
A/N: As usual, I'm not at all sure this chapter hangs together, as I have lost my train of thought on it from the series canon abruptly changing, and the fact that so much time has lapsed since I've worked on any of my stories. Hopefully I can pick the thread back up and wrap things up in the next chapter!