AN: Thanks yet again to all the people who weren't signed in – and to those others I couldn't reply to personally. I'm still amazed at and grateful for the number of thoughtful, constructive comments I've received.

To ncis fan who said working with Stan would be good, we'll see him a bit, but I don't think there'll be a sequel where we can see them working together, because many readers don't actually care for stories where a core character works with a whole lot of OCs and the other original team members are never seen. Sorry I led you to believe the radio was off: my bad... in the end I just can't credit Tim doing it, which is one reason why the ep bugs me so much.

I also wasn't sure about where I'd take Taydie; it was either a one night stand to make them feel better then they'd get on with the work, or it was a life thing. Some concerned, and always kindly put reviews and feedback have made the decision for me, so thanks to you!

Beware, you know my opinion of Ziva... and I really hope this is the epilogue! Hops about a bit... tying up loose ends.

Take a Deep Breath

Chapter 5

(Begins just after Tony left.)

Tim walked slowly back to the bullpen; slowly because he needed to think, but hell, there wasn't enough time... Take the day off? Quit and give in to ComTop or Logicor's latest wooing? He ground his teeth and huffed a denial; Tony had told him he wasn't a coward, and he wasn't going to prove him wrong. As he moved towards his station, he saw the orange folder, still sitting on the edge of Tony's desk, closest to his own, pointing towards it invitingly. Tony was still telling him something. He picked it up as he went by.

Ziva noted his slight pallor, and said, "So... a tearful goodbye? Surely, Tim, now you can be thankful he is gone. Spending time on regrets is a weakness you do not need."

Tim just looked at her as he sat down. How had it taken him this long to wise up?

Gibbs snapped, "McGee, I suggest you get over to that desk. Look for the form for upgrading to Senior Field Agent."

He held the orange folder like a talisman; he knew what he was going to do, and resolve surged up inside him. He stood, and walked over to the Marine's desk. "With respect, Gibbs, no."

"What did you say?"

Tim didn't raise his voice. "I said no, Gibbs. Senior Field Agent of what? The team's shot to pieces; it'll never be the same without Tony – and I'm partly responsible for that. And I don't know why I didn't see it before."

"What did Tony say to you? How can you fall for –" Ziva began, but Tim cut her off.

"Tony told me he believed that I didn't turn the radio off, which is more than I hoped for. He also pointed out again, that we'll be lucky if anyone else does. I'll take my knocks, but not on the remains of my team. I'm going to ask the Director for a transfer." Still holding the orange folder, he went away towards the stairs.

For a moment there was silence; then Ziva said, "Well, then, Gibbs, shall I look for the form?"

Gibbs came out of his stupor and looked at her as if she were mad. "No, Probationary Agent David, you will not."

NCISNCISNCIS

(Very early Monday morning)

"Special Agent DiNozzo. Come in. I wasn't expecting to see you for a while yet – I thought you were taking some time off to prepare for your new team."

"I er... I needed to talk to you, Director."

"You're quiet again." He handed her a mug of fresh coffee, and dredged up a smile, but it was an anxious one. "DiNo, its all right. I told you last night..."

"Would it really be all right, if I told you last night was wrong?"

"Well... no, but I went into it with my eyes open. I told you, I wanted to fix you."

Tony took the mug he'd just given her from her hand and set it down on the table, then pulled her close. "You want to fix me. I don't want to break you."

She put her head on his shoulder. "If being married to the most boring, repressive man in the entire USA didn't break me – "

"The job, Aydie. If we're an item, I don't think we can work together. And before you ask... this time yesterday I hadn't a clue about this – but I want us to be an item. Lost Gibbs, the team... only just found you and here I go opening up my heart again. Is that stupid? I don't want to lose you – is that putting too much on you?"

"DiNo... I knew the moment I first laid eyes on you. We'll figure something. If it came to it I'd walk away from the job before I'd walk away from you."

"Aydie..." he breathed something like a sob, and buried his face in her hair.

"So you're together, then? Suddenly? And on Friday, when you asked for Martin as your SFA, you really didn't know?"

"I wouldn't have asked, Director. I don't want to put her career in jeopardy, and as the subordinate and less experienced she'd be first to go."

"This rule's an ethical thing..."

"Director, I know. A superior can take advantage – the rule exists to protect the subordinate."

Vance smiled thinly. "And the superior against the manipulative underling. It exists; it's not for you or Edith, but if I allow you to break it, others will say why not us."

Tony nodded seriously. "I wanted to be up front with you. Not going to start my new position with a cover up."

Vance thought for a moment. "Yes, you are," he said finally. "At least for now. You're a sensible man; team leader as soon as you get your team together. You don't either of you say a word to anyone, and you resolve the situation however you see fit, as soon as you possibly can. Find a way. Good luck."

NCISNCISNCIS

Abby's music was still playing, but not so loudly, and the bounce, although not gone, was not nearly as zesty as he was used to. "Abby." She heard him above the music and whirled round; beginning to launch herself as she turned, but stopping herself abruptly.

"Tony... I thought you were so mad at me you'd gone without saying goodbye!"

He stepped into the lab. "I was mad, Abby... I was so mad about a lot of things I thought you were trying to cook the evidence to protect them... When Tim told me what you were really doing, I felt a bit bad, but no way was I going to say goodbye to anyone the mood I was in. Just wished you'd told me..."

"Me too, Tony. Will you come back and see me? Can... can I hug you?"

He smiled; a smile full of sadness and the joy of old friendship and new beginnings.

NCISNCISNCIS

Ducky and Jimmy had refused to say goodbye. "We'll meet on cases, dear boy. And we'll visit." Ducky patted his hand, and whispered, in a most conspiratorial way, "You and the lovely Agent Martin."

"Ducky..."

NCISNCISNCIS

At first, Tim worked as a solo agent; until Dave Marchetti, needing a fourth on his team, and being a decent man at heart, reluctantly accepted the Director's request to take him on. He was now without a Senior Field Agent, but wouldn't consider someone suspected of leaving his team-mate without back-up for the position. He tended to agree with Vance that it had just been a very foolish joke, which had backfired spectacularly on its perpetrator; if the Director had believed otherwise, neither McGee nor David would still be around the agency.

Tim bit the bullet; he'd no intention of being driven out, it was a bad joke and now he was paying, as he told every new person who had a go at him. He was learning the difference between being DiNozzoed and being viciously hazed, and he sucked it up, defending himself calmly. In the meantime, the orange folder was his constant companion.

He followed money trails; he built snippets of evidence into a tapestry that gradually gained more colours. He called Aydie, and asked her to set up a meeting with her informant. Once he was on Marchetti's team, he worked in his spare time; everyone in the building could see that he was trying, and people gradually began to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"It was still a stupid joke," a passing agent snarled at him, 'accidentally' catching him in the ribs with his elbow.

"I've been saying that for six weeks," Tim replied calmly, and went on his way.

He kept a weather eye on Gibbs and Ziva; there wasn't a lot he could do, but he deflected what nastiness he could his way. The Director shook his head, looking down from the mezzanine; there was something about McGee these days that reminded him of DiNozzo. And holy shee-hut, if he hadn't just solved that cold case.

NCISNCISNCIS

Stan Burley was just about the most easy-going, affable person Tony knew, with the possible exception of Ducky. Around child abusers or people who preyed on old folks, maybe not so much... but right now, the two team leaders had kicked up chairs to a long side table under a window where the sun streamed in, and spread papers all over it, comparing notes. It had taken this long for Tony to assemble his team; the two young agents he wanted had both had to come from duties in other countries, but Tony had been prepared to wait, and the day after tomorrow they'd arrive.

He was wondering how to broach a tricky subject. He needed to sort it before his team went into the field, and knew he should just take a deep breath and get on with it. He took a swig of coffee, and cleared his throat for the third time in as many minutes, but still couldn't get the words out; things would be drastic for himself and Aydie if –

Stan chuckled. "I've already spoken to my team," he said with that completely sunny smile that had fooled many a perp.

"What?"

"Look, Tony, I've been here three weeks, and most of that's been waiting for Patrick to retire." He laughed again. "Helluva party, wasn't it... Anyhoos, we all thought, all six of us get on really well, and no-one's formed any particular bonds yet... except you and Agent Martin of course..."

Tony's jaw dropped open. "Burley! What are you saying?"

This time Stan's guffaw was unrestrained. "I'm saying that they said that we could throw all our files up in the air and see where they came down... except that Aydie needs to work for me, yes?"

"How the heck... Stan... I've been worrying for weeks –"

"How? My wife noticed. Nearly a week ago now. She sees these things. Why the hell didn't you open your mouth, Bozo?"

Tony was spared the need to answer as Aydie came into the room just then, with Stan's SFA, Will Matthews. Will spoke in his deep voice; "So, we been traded yet?" Tony leaned slowly forwards and banged his head on the table.

NCISNCISNCIS

Gibbs and Ziva didn't even like each other's company these days; because they were down to two members, the MCRT had had to move from their large bullpen into a much smaller area at the back, where they encroached on each other, and got on each other's nerves. "No-one in the whole building wants to work with you," another female agent had told Ziva brutally. She was still peeved that Gibbs would not promote her; Gibbs was still irritated that she had the nerve to ask. He missed his real Senior Field Agent, and, knowing that he'd never get him back and it was his own fault in the first place that he'd lost him, he didn't see any reason to hold back on his bad temper.

"Dammit, Leon, I need my space back. Find me a decent Senior Field Agent, and we can get back to our bullpen!"

"You think I haven't been trying, Gibbs? The truth is, everyone knows how little you backed your last one, and nobody wants to work for you. And if I actually managed to find you someone, would you restrain Agent David? Or just let her loose again?"

"Then get me DiNozzo back!"

"I'm not going to drag him back here for you to start on all over again, Jethro. Even if I could."

"I'm not going to –"

"Jethro, if you think that much of him, and I've seen no evidence of it – you could get off your ass and try yourself."

That evening, anyone brave enough to walk that way down to the break room, would have noticed Special Agent Gibbs' desk was empty.

NCISNCISNCIS

The white Buick Encore had blue tinted windows, and the proprietor of the fruit and vegetable stall at the Eastern Market thought it looked a real sissy girlmobile. And it was illegally parked. Trust a woman to park like that. His sexist thoughts would have been very satisfying to the occupants of the SUV; it was the least obvious, official or threatening car from their pool, and that was why they'd chosen it.

They watched the slim, dark haired woman as she browsed the stalls; she had to come this way in the end, they knew; they'd deliberately parked between herself and her vehicle.

"She's fit, strong, intelligent and resourceful," one man said to the other. "She's highly proficient in hand to hand combat, a natural polyglot, with a particular talent for European and arabic languages. She's a good shot, deadly with knives – I wouldn't like to think how many she's carrying right now – used to working alone and unsupervised, and experienced in middle eastern affairs, of course."

The other man chuckled. "I hear she's also headstrong, arrogant, and poor at taking orders. She's shown herself to be duplicitous, ready to betray and claim she's the one who's been betrayed, and has a mean tongue and an ego she's in danger of falling off."

"She's exactly the sort of recruit we need, then," the first man said.

The woman was walking towards them, and they stepped out of the vehicle. "Agent David."

"Kort," Ziva said, taken aback.

"Agent David, this is my Section Head, Lance Dreyer. Er... we have an offer for you."

The next day, everyone going down to the break room noticed that Ziva's desk was empty.

NCISNCISNCIS

Now that they could, they'd chosen a small house at Eagle Point; there was a large pond and a flock of marauding Canada geese that Aydie delighted in feeding, squirrels out the back, and an ice cream parlour just down the street. It was the clincher as far as Aydie was concerned; her husband had never wanted to go in such places, statistics said that fifty percent of food poisoning cases were caused by ice cream. You never knew what was in it.

Three days ago, Tim had called, just to let Tony know that his orange folder had done its job. Tony had been surprised, but not, at how pleased he'd been to hear the Probie's voice, and invited him down any time. Tim would come, as soon as he had some time off.

That was good, but Aydie could see that it had unsettled her man.

He stood looking out of the kitchen window in the early morning; the geese were still sleeping by the pond, and everything was still.

Aydie came in, wrapped in a huge towel, her hair in another one. "You're doing that quiet thing again," she said softly.

Tony huffed. "I dreamed about Gibbs, last night," he confessed.

"Let me guess. Not for the first time?"

"Vance tells me he quit. I'm still kinda surprised. I felt like he'd go on for ever... "

Aydie thought for a moment. "Breakfast," she said finally. "It's a long drive to DC."

Behind the quiet back lots and cedar fence panels of Gibbs' neighbourhood, if you knew where to look, if you walked down a path and crossed a footbridge, a stream had been backed up by a weir into a pond very different from the one by Tony's house, with its open space and green lawns.

This one was rough edged, with reeds, hornwort and nettles, and overhanging willows. There were a few small piers for fishermen to sit quietly in the shade, and Gibbs, hunched with his back to the path, hadn't moved in two hours. The float on the water hadn't moved either, and Gibbs didn't really care if it never did. He hadn't worked on anything in the basement for weeks; he'd never imagined he'd feel hemmed in down there. He'd dug out his ancient fishing pole, and taken to sitting here thinking, sinking in his regrets for hours at a time.

Damn fool. What was it about him that made him continually defy reason and common sense? His conscience was a poor timid little creature that got screamed at when it dared to raise its head. Don't tell me what to do!

What was it about him that made him see a smile and instead of smiling back, wipe it off a face? Why had he treated Tony that way? Why, when Vance had said go get him, had he chickened out and come here to lick his wounds instead? He missed him...

Why had he systematically destroyed everything worth keeping? I'm sorry, Tony... Why had he let Tim and Ziva go unchecked, until finally McGee himself had seen the sense he refused to see? Tim was suffering now because of it; and he didn't even know where Ziva was or how she was feeling.

What was he going to do with the rest of his life? Sit here every day and ask the same questions? Leroy Jethro Gibbs, veteran of Desert Storm; feared investigator, staring into space and getting nowhere? Damn fool.

He probably dozed; he knew he did sometimes, because he'd open his eyes and the sun would be setting; but this time it wasn't the fading light and dropping temperature, but voices in the distance that brought him back to alertness. People were walking the path, and he sat still, not intending to be noticed. Damn, footsteps on the bridge. He prepared to grunt a quiet greeting and hope they'd leave him alone...

A known, missed, loved voice behind him said tentatively, "Gibbs."

AN: Only read through once – really tired... I hope the solving of the Taydie problem doesn't come over as too contrived.