Title: The Perfect Fit

Author: Jasmine2009 (aka Jasmine)

Date Started: October 3, 2012

Date Published: October 11, 2015

Universe: Season 9

Rate: PG-13

Summary: Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo is identified as the perfect fit for a special project. One thing leads to another and before long he's put in a very dangerous situation.

Author's note: The birth of this story came about because of a single scene that I had banging around inside my head for a very long time (I'll identify it in the story). Once I built the story up so I could plausibly incorporate this particular scene, I was sort of done writing. However, it became evident that the story was far from being done (as most of them take on a life of their own). This is the point where it became unwieldy, so I stopped writing on it for a couple of years hoping inspiration would return. It did, so to my loyal readers and any new ones, I hope you find this interesting, sometimes fun, typo free (mostly), and void of plot holes.

Warnings: Mild language, use of "Tiva" in the same way the series does, and slight reference to one of my earlier stories, "World Class".

*************************************8

Gibbs knitted his brow and stared briefly off to the side. The conversation he was currently engaged in was so absurd that he needed a moment to think. Slowly, he returned his gaze back to the man seated across from him and said, "What?"

Fornell smiled. He hadn't realized just how much he was going to enjoy his visit to NCIS on this dreary Monday morning; if he had, he might have done it eons earlier. His colleague, Agent Ron Sacks, wasn't having nearly as much fun, but Tobias didn't care. Nor did he care that neither the Director of NCIS nor his ex-wife's former husband were enjoying it, because he was. And immensely. Plastering on his best I‑have‑the‑upper‑hand grin, he repeated, "We'd like to requisition one of your people."

"I heard that part," Gibbs said. "What I don't understand is the WHO part and the WHY part?"

Agent Sacks shifted, his anxiety easily discernible as he didn't share his boss's confidence.

Fornell gave Gibbs an amused glance before answering, "The WHO part is simple: Special Agent Anthony DiNotzo; the WHY part may take a while."

Vance leaned back and clasped his hands across his belly, "We have the time."

Fornell raised his brows, weighing his options: To bluntly state his intentions may push them away; however, to continue in this evasive manner may piss them off. What this called for was a happy medium. "Okay," Fornell said, pausing briefly before leaning forward and relishing the moment. "We're getting ready to run an operation that requires an agent with a specific skill set. We did our usual query at the FBI using our very own DC field agents, like we always do, but we didn't get any matches. That's not too terribly unusual, so we expanded our search to include all east coast agents. Again, we didn't get any matches. That is a little unusual. So we opened the query to all FBI field agents in the United States. The closest match we got came from our Kansas City field office."

Impatiently, Gibbs interrupted, "What does this have to do with my agent?"

"I'm getting to that, Jethro. You have to be patient."

"That's not exactly my best quality."

Fornell smiled again, knowing he'd better get to the point before Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked out. "The agent in Kansas City is a good match, just not a perfect match. That's when our guys starting inputting the resume of agents from other federal agencies."

"You've got nothing better to do with your work force than data entry?" Vance asked.

"As a matter of fact, we have an entire department devoted to doing just that. After last year's debacle, code named 'Forrest Gump', we take the prelims of a case much more seriously. I don't have to tell you what the right match can do for a covert operation: higher conviction rates, fewer casualties, shorter op time. The list goes on and on, so if the heads of espionage agencies across the country can understand why we take this preliminary setup so seriously, I'm sure the Director of NCIS can."

Vance understood those stats intimately. Even though he wasn't in that sort of business anymore, he appreciated the effort that went into them. A well planned and executed mission could have its rewards; a poorly planned one could be devastating, not only to an agency's reputation, but to the men and women directly involved.

"And your machine thingy just happened to pop out the name DiNozzo?" Gibbs said. "My DiNozzo."

"Not exactly the way I would put it, but you get the gist."

Gibbs shook his head, "I don't even need to hear your reasons, Fornell. The answer's no. I'm not turning over my senior agent to the FBI to run some operation that no one else seems qualified for."

Tobias leaned back again, relaxed. He held all the cards, and he knew it. But he didn't like forcing these kinds of things, especially with these kinds of men. He found that if everyone bought into the idea, and he was able to get everyone on board, then everything ran that much better. Unfortunately, Ron Sacks didn't share his understanding of human nature and he caught just the hint of a sneer as it lifted the corner of Sacks' mouth.

And so did Gibbs, who leaned in and said, "What are you doing, Tobias?"

Annoyed with Sacks, Fornell relaxed his body language and sat up, "I'm trying to put together the best agents for a job."

"That's not what Agent Sacks is telling us," Vance said, sending the young FBI agent into an uncomfortable tailspin.

"I didn't say anything!"

Fornell addressed his subordinate, "Will you wait for me outside?"

The young, and still un-seasoned, FBI agent looked startled at the request. "But—"

Much like his NCIS counterpart, Fornell had mastered The Glare. Sacks reluctantly stood, straightened his jacket and left the room.

"Look, Jethro," Fornell began, initiating damage control, "if it wasn't so damn important, I would have gone with the agent in Kansas City, but this is big, and I don't have any choice."

"There's always a choice," Gibbs growled.

"Just hear me out," Fornell said, still believing that it's far better to get them to buy into the deal than to slam them with it. "This is a win/win scenario for the FBI, NCIS, and, believe it or not, the CIA. We got a Mafia Don laundering money through a chain of car dealerships which are known covers for terrorists cells, which are headquartered in—of all places—Peoria. The money tracks back and forth through Baltimore, where we think there's at least a dirty cop or two looking the other way. After all that, the money is transferred to an off shore account in the Caribbean, where it's cleaned, and then returned to the United States via the same car dealerships."

"And just how is this a win/win scenario?" Vance asked.

"The FBI takes down the Mafia, the CIA closes down a sleeper cell, and NCIS gets to share in the credit."

Gibbs suppressed a grunt, then got up and walked towards the door. He actually chuckled when he turned the knob. "Fornell?" he began, "I have to hand it to you. It takes a pair to come in here with a request like that."

"Wait a minute, Jethro, you haven't heard the best part."

"And what would that be?"

"Your Secretary of the Navy approved it. We have NCIS's full cooperation."

Leon Vance's jaw stiffened; sometimes he felt Clayton Jarvis overstepped his boundaries. "I don't think so."

Fornell pulled an envelope from his inside breast pocket and handed it to him.

Leon opened it and read it, twice. His blank expression all but told Gibbs it was no joke. Leon summarized the main points: "Any resources the FBI wants, NCIS is to provide, including personnel." As he folded it and stuffed it back into its envelope, he stated, "And you want DiNozzo."

"Yep, I want DiNotzo."

Gibbs slammed the door and strode back over in front of his Director's desk. "You can't be seriously thinking about handing him over?"

"I don't have much of a choice."

"Yeah, you do, Leon. We don't work this way."

"This piece of paper says we do." Vance pursed his lips together and faced the FBI agent. He resented the SECNAV pulling rank, he resented the FBI sending field agents to inform him of this plan, and he resented the very agent they wanted for a multitude of reasons, but he had to push all that aside right now. "I want in the loop; I want Agent Gibbs and his team to be involved as much as you are, and the first sign of the mission going south, I want my agent fully protected. Is that understood?"

Fornell had nothing to lose by agreeing to the Director's demands; after all, the requests were simply standard protocol, and he had every intention of involving NCIS and protecting their very special asset. What he couldn't do right now was bring himself to look at Gibbs.

Instead, he deliberately placed the letter back inside his breast pocket.

******************************8

The problem with drinking coffee is it's a lot like drinking beer in that it requires numerous visits to the head. Gibbs prided himself on his ability to resist the urge every hour, but this morning was different. This morning, he had to deliver the news to DiNozzo that he was being turned over to the FBI, like a piece of evidence. Then, he has to step aside while his senior agent infiltrates a growing Mafia presence on the East Coast, gathers intel on a known terrorist group, and tries to keep himself alive, all the while reporting to a different agency. Not the way to start any morning, much less a dreary one.

He washed his hands and left. He could see Fornell and Sacks talking to Ziva and McGee, and he could also see Tony's vacant desk. It was Monday and Tony was never on time on Mondays. Gibbs overlooked the indiscretion because his senior field agent worked smarter than anyone else he knew, and when he played, he played smarter too, and sometimes there was a collision of sorts between the two. So on Mondays, he looked the other way, never questioning what he'd been doing or why he was late.

"Where is he?" Sacks asked, still stinging from his earlier dismissal.

"He'll be here," Gibbs replied, making his way to his desk.

Impatiently, he continued, "We were hoping to get started this morning. He has a lot of work to do to get ready."

Ziva perked her ears up. "Get ready? Get ready for what?"

"Tony's going to work with the FBI on a case," Gibbs answered.

Both McGee and Ziva stared, processing the statement. Ziva finally got her wits about her and asked, "Does he know this?"

"Not yet."

"What is he going to do?"

When no one answered her, she pressed, "Well? Why is he being transferred to the FBI? He is an NCIS agent, not an FBI agent!"

"It's classified," Sacks responded.

Gibbs had hoped Sacks would screw up again and make a mistake, but he actually thought it would take longer than ten minutes. Fornell realized it the minute the words spewed from his agent's lips and knew Gibbs was lying in wait for just such an opportunity to pounce. In the split second afterwards, Fornell weighed the pros and cons of intervening, but if Sacks was going to mature as an agent, he'd have to learn how to deal with the likes of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, so he stood back and watched.

Standing, Gibbs quietly toned, "What did you say?"

Startled, Sacks wasn't completely sure what he'd done. But he was just proud enough to stand a little straighter. "I-I said the information is classified."

"From who?"

Sacks scratched the imaginary itch on the back of his neck and straightened up. Fornell watched, feeling a little sorry for him, and wondering when he became so soft on his own agents.

Sacks stammered, "I—We were given orders that the mission is Top Secret," and he looked to his boss for affirmation.

Fornell decided to help the man out if for no other reason than Gibbs would eat him alive and spit out the bones. Or, if Gibbs deferred his dirty work to the former Mossad officer, she would quite possibly torture the information out of him. Agent McGee, on the other hand, would simply circumvent the FBI agent and hack straight into his computer and find out what he needed to know. Sacks had much to learn about inter-agency cooperation. "What Agent Sacks is trying to say is we will be giving all agencies involved a full and detailed briefing when the time's right. But first, we have to get the individual players lined up, read-in, and trained. Agent DiNotzo is one of our players."

The elevator dinged and there was the playful sound of Tony conversing with one of the younger administrative assistants. It was evident by her voice that she found him attractive and funny and perhaps a bit larger than life seeing as he was a senior field agent who carried a gun. The conversation sounded like it was going exceedingly well until Tony saw Fornell and Sacks staring at him. If that wasn't bad enough, Ziva, McGee and even Gibbs were also staring. In less than two sentences, he brushed off the young woman and approached his desk. Looking straight at Ron Sacks, he said, "The last time I saw you, you were attempting to strangle me. Any new developments with finding your world class thief?"

Still stinging from his earlier mistake, Sacks deferred to his boss, but Fornell deferred to Gibbs.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Boss."

"You're being temporarily loaned to the FBI for an assignment."

Tony started to laugh, "That's funny, Boss." He only stopped laughing when he realized he was the only one finding it amusing. "You're kidding me, right?"

Gibbs walked over to him, taking up a position exceedingly close to his subordinate. Even though Tony's personal space was being breached, Gibbs stood comfortably, looking directly into his agent's blue eye. "Orders, Tony, directly from the SECNAV," he whispered. "Go with them…for now. Do what they ask…for now. Let me see what I can do from my end…for now. Got it?"

Tony wasn't sure what he was supposed to get. Three minutes ago he was closing a deal with Angie, something he understood. Now, he was about to leave NCIS with two FBI agents he didn't particularly care for, to do God-knows-what for who-knows-why and for how long? What started out as a great morning was quickly spiraling into one of the worst. For a fleeting moment, he considered the potential of this being some sort of practical joke, but he knew from his boss' expression, Ziva and McGee's, and even Fornell and Sacks' expressions that this was anything but a joke.

He nodded, dutifully—if not skeptically—at his boss.

********************************8

"For being an end of the week celebration, no one looks particularly festive," Dr. Mallard commented as he approached the table where Team Gibbs sat. The bar had been dimly lit and the crowd had seemed particularly thick on this Friday evening.

Abby smiled and replied, "We're sorry, Ducky, it's just that we miss Tony. And what's worse is we don't even know where he is or how long he'll be gone."

Ducky sat down in the only vacant chair and agreed, "I miss him, too. He did fill my autopsy room with a measure of levity that was more often than not lost on my guests, but never on me."

Abby agreed, "He filled my lab with oddball statements that gave me great ideas for tests."

"He filled the squad room with movie references and politically incorrect statements," Ziva added with a touch of yearning in her voice.

"He mostly just insulted me," McGee said, despondently.

"Me, too," Jimmy said, knowing the insults were the agent's way of showing affection.

"Has anyone heard from him?" Dr. Mallard asked.

There was a slow but silent shaking of heads. Ziva said, "Gibbs has not said anything either. No matter how much I ask, he tells me to drop it."

"He's been pretty tight lipped about it, that's for sure," McGee said, taking a swallow of beer.

Hoping to change the subject, Ducky asked, "Well, then, how's the latest case coming? I hear you've found the murderer?"

"After three weeks, we should have," Ziva said. "I used to think that Tony's contributions to solving our cases were annoying, at best, but now I'm beginning to think that he always knew more than he led on."

"I know exactly what you mean, Ziva!" Abby said. "Like when Tony would come down to the lab and make some off the wall comment about my forensics. I didn't realize just how much those comments helped me focus my work."

"Same here," McGee added. "For someone who claims he's not a computer geek, he sure uses a lot of logical computer geek thinking to come up with answers."

"I would never admit this to Gibbs," Ziva said, "but Tony's insights—now that we don't have them-are way more valuable than I ever gave him credit for."

"I'm sure Gibbs already knows it," McGee said.

"Yes, he is an integral part of the team," Ducky agreed, "but he'll be back soon and business will return to normal."

There was a moment when everyone perked up a notch, hopeful that the doctor's statement was more than wishful thinking. But the moment was fleeting and soon everyone returned to their drinks and small talk, unaware of the suffering their handsome colleague was facing.

***************************8

Tony vomited into the trashcan. He thought he was done with this kind of reaction weeks ago when the physical demands placed on his body had first begun; obviously, he'd been mistaken.

"Can't take it anymore, DiNozzo!" the no-neck jar-head yelled in his ear. "I was told you were the best! I find that hard to believe! DiNozzo. I think I'm gonna start calling you De Not So, as in DE-NOT-SO Great!

Tony had wanted to respond, but another gut wrenching spasm racked his body and he thrust his head back into the trashcan.

"Get your sorry ass back out here! You call yourself an agent! You must be one of those candy-ass N-C-I-S agents that I hear about! The paper pushing, ass-kissing, bureaucratic dumb-shits that get to carry a gun! For that, you walk around thinking your shit don't stink! Well, I got news for you—"

The next thing Tony knew he was being manhandled back out onto the obstacle course. There was no use fighting the guy as he had three more inches and at least 40 more pounds of lean muscle behind him to enforce anything and everything he'd wanted. Besides, he had already tried. He'd gone through the rebellious stage, which got him nowhere, and he'd even tried to use humor at one point, but that only made it worse. He couldn't believe that Gibbs was allowing this. Where the Hell was he? He felt like he was back at boarding school dealing with the headmaster who had permission to do just about anything he wanted to the boys under his patronage. And all Tony had ever wanted was to go home.

Just like now.

Fornell observed the proceedings from the tower, like he'd done every day since Gibbs handed the agent over. There were few truths in life he knew better than the ones pertaining to Gibbs. For example, he knew that if something were to happen to Anthony DiNozzo, Gibbs would have Fornell's head. You don't mess with his people, and you especially don't mess with this one. Like Kate's killer, he wouldn't stop until the SOB responsible was dead, which led him to the reason he was standing in a cold tower overseeing the agent's training.

"How's he doing?" Agent Sacks pushed out, breathing heavily from climbing the steps to the forty foot high platform.

"Sounds like you could use some of his training."

Ignoring the comment, Sacks caught his breath and said, "I have that report you asked for. It wasn't easy to get, but after I insinuated that I had pictures of him with the lab technician and they might accidentally get sent to his wife, he was more than cooperative."

Fornell sighed, wondering if the agent was ever going to learn the art of finesse to get the things he wanted. "Are we ready to go with Phase 2?"

"Yes. After DiNozzo finishes his physical conditioning, we're ready to go with his mental conditioning."

"So we're pretty much on schedule," Fornell mumbled to himself, not expecting an answer.

"Yes, we're right on schedule."

Tobias paced around a bit, then stopped and said, "He's been asking to talk to Gibbs. I think it's time."

"But I thought we agreed that wouldn't be a good idea, at least not until he's finished Phase 2 of his training."

"Yes, but Gibbs has been making waves, too. I think we had better release some of the pressure that's building."

"All right. I'll set it up. How about tonight, after he eats?"

Fornell nodded.

*************************8

In the dimly lit basement, Gibbs sanded the ribs of the boat he was building, stirring up the sawdust and making it difficult to breath. He often thought he should wear a mask, but if the things he'd already done in life hadn't killed him, why should he worry about a little dust. His ringing phone interrupted his thoughts and his stomach quavered when he saw the name on the display. He studied it a moment before flipping it open, "Tony."

"Hey, Boss."

"How are you?"

There was a short pause as Tony was thinking of the best reply, "Remember that old tv commercial for the Army, 'We do more before 9am than most people do all day'? Well, the FBI should adopt it."

Gibbs smiled. It was good to hear his agent's voice.

"Hey, Boss, when am I getting out of here?"

"You're working a case for them now, DiNozzo."

"But I haven't been told anything. Do you know what they want me to do?"

Gibbs bobbled his head slowly, but remained silent.

"You know, but you can't say."

"Not smart to say over the phone. No one's told you anything?"

"Nope. I get yelled at and screamed at a lot, but nobody just talks to me. And I haven't seen Fornell or Slacks in weeks."

"You still in training?"

"If that's what you want to call it. I'm gonna start something new tomorrow, which is why I think they let me make a phone call tonight. You do realize that my living conditions strongly resemble that of a prison."

Gibbs let out a small chuckle. He missed his agent. He missed his quips, and his remarks, and his brain. "They taking care of you, DiNozzo."

"For the most part. Hey, Boss? Any chance of Ziva or McGee getting visitation rights?"

"I doubt it."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Gibbs waited, but the silence lingered. Tony was still there, feeling insecure and lonely, but silent, until he quipped, "Okay, then. When you find something out, give me a call."

"I'll do that. And Tony, watch your six."

"Always."

Gibbs closed his phone and stared at the hull of his boat, clearly not seeing it. Fornell had repeatedly assured him that his agent was okay, and Tony did indeed sound okay, but there was something missing in his voice. Something Gibbs couldn't put his finger on, but Tobias knew better than to mess with his agent. The question that concerned Gibbs was: Is Fornell the one in charge? He trusted Fornell, but could he be certain that Fornell was the one calling the shots at the Bureau?

"Tobias, I hope you know what you're doing," he said to the boat in his basement.

************************************8

Fornell stood behind the one-way mirror and watched DiNozzo work. He took test after test and never managed to get below a perfect score. He was truly an amazing man with more talent in his left hand than most agents had in their entire bodies. He just had a knack for this sort of thing. His brain worked on a multitude of levels simultaneously and when he was focused, there truly wasn't anything he couldn't master.

Sacks read the reports and concluded, "He's ready for the final test."

"Give it to him."

"Agent DiNozzo," he said into a microphone from behind the mirror, "Agent Gordon is going to give you a laptop. You are to access the NCIS intranet."

After some grumbling about how he wasn't McGee, he exhaled and then proceeded to hack into the intranet of one of the most secure networks in the country. Sacks grumbled, "He's better than we originally thought."

"He's a master at deceit. You don't learn these skills as an adult. My guess is he learned them all before his voice changed."

"Maybe," Sacks sneered, "but I think there's a thin line between good and bad, and as far as I'm concerned, I'm not too sure which side of that line Agent DiNozzo falls on."

Fornell pondered the comment. He had always believed that DiNozzo's abilities were a little suspect, and he figured Gibbs thought the same, but he also believed that it was those abilities that made him one of the best agents at NCIS. What Fornell wished for was that he had more Agent DiNozzo's on his staff, and fewer Agent Sacks', but, he bemused, handling one Anthony DiNozzo was hard enough as it was and it took up all his energy and time to do it.

Sacks interrupted his thoughts and said, "Whatever the reason, he's ready. He's passed all the physical training and mental acuity tests that we've thrown at him. He's about as ready as he's going to get."

It took Tobias a full minute to respond. Could there be such a thing as too ready? Not in this business. "Okay, it's time. Gather all agencies and we'll read everyone in."

************************************8

"Let's go," Gibbs said to his team.

Ziva looked up, "Go where?"

"Conference room."

Ziva shot McGee a look that expressed her confusion, but his furrowed brows told her that he was just as perplexed.

"C'mon! Ducky and Abby are waiting."

Inside the orange conference room, more chairs had been brought in. Abby and Ducky sat along the perimeter of the room, leaving the chairs at the table for others. Abby mouthed to McGee, "What's going on?"

He shrugged and shook his head, "I wish I knew," he whispered back. He took a chair at the table and Ziva sat down next to him. Director Vance sat at the head of it with a file in front of him, opened. His hands were neatly folded across his buttoned jacket and he sat silently as his people entered. His jaw clenched sporadically, indicating he was on the unhappy side of the mood scale. His secretary was offering coffee, which was unusual because the room had always been a self-serve sort of set-up, but she did her job efficiently and readied cups for anyone who asked. McGee had been the only one who had taken her up on her offer and he graciously thanked her. Abby had already come with a Caf-Pow and Ducky didn't usually feed his system with more than one cup of caffeine a day. Ziva didn't like the brew nearly as much as her American born colleagues, preferring a hot cup of tea instead. Gibbs also declined, but when she left, he took a Styrofoam cup and filled it himself. Cheap black coffee may be the only good thing to come out of this room today, he thought.

When the door opened again, his secretary announced, "Director Vance? The CIA liaison is here."

"Send him in."

When Trent Kort walked through the door, the occupants didn't bother trying to conceal their surprise.

Kort smirked, "I know this is a shock, but you can close your mouths now. I have managed to work my way back into the good graces of the powers that be."

"I don't believe that for a minute," Vance replied.

"Then you have become wiser over the years, Director. The truth is my superiors know that I have dealt with NCIS extensively in the past and in particularly with Agent DiNozzo. My skill set makes me the best CIA liaison for the job."

"Your skill set should have gotten you fired," Gibbs said.

"And yet… here I am," he quipped. "As much as it went against the better judgment of my Director, even he had to concede that my area of expertise on a long term op was far more valuable than any grudge he might have against me."

"So you're going to be working on this with us?"

"Only so far as the mission falls within the scope of the CIA's purview."

Gibbs sniggered, "So you're really here to make sure we don't screw up any CIA plans."

"Yes."

The door opened again and his secretary announced, "Director Vance? Agents Fornell and Sacks are here."

"Send them in."

Fornell entered first. As he washed his eyes over the room at its near full capacity, he saw just how expectantly they stared at him, and then past him in anticipation. "Good morning, Director Vance, Gibbs, Kort. We have a lot of information to disseminate so I'd like to dispense with the small talk and get started."

Ziva looked anxiously at the door as Sacks closed it behind him, and then she looked to her boss for an explanation. Gibbs, who was still leaning on the window sill, said, "Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Agent DiNotzo is being brought over by Agent Dalton," Fornell explained. "Until he arrives, I suggest we use this time to determine turf. As you are well aware, we're running this mission as a joint operation among all three agencies. The Secretary of the Navy, the Director of the FBI, and the Head of the CIA have all agreed that the mission is important enough to warrant a cooperative effort. That being said, we can't afford to have pissing wars once this gets off the ground."

Vance tilted his head like he was listening intently to everything being said. But the facts were, DiNozzo was his man and if they had a prayer of avoiding turf wars, a whole lot of concessions were going to have to be made—concessions that accommodated NCIS. If the truth be told, they'd not only have to satisfy his agency, but they'd have to appease Gibbs, a feat he was looking forward to witnessing.

Leon has seen firsthand what one of these so-called joint ops could do to a man. If the agent made it out alive (and that was a big IF), he was often so messed up that he wished he hadn't made it. And Leon shuddered to think what Gibbs and the rest of his team would do if either of those two outcomes were to occur. And if by chance DiNozzo did make it out alive and emerged unscathed and successful, then, just like children grappling for presents under a Christmas tree, he'd be snatched up by every agency this side of the equator. Either way, things were about to change. Vance lifted his chin a little higher and asked, "So, what do you propose?"

Kort quickly replied, "Since the CIA is supplying the intel on the sleeper cell, I propose we move the operation to Langley where we can keep a closer watch on the cell's movements."

Fornell countered with, "Except that the FBI is supplying the plan. The sleeper cell is just an added benefit in the taking down of the Mafia."

"Perhaps, but it's the sleeper cell that carries the most importance on this mission. Taking it out will rain a tremendous blow to Al-Qaeda."

"Need I remind you that the CIA knew nothing of this cell until the FBI brought you in?"

"Gentlemen," Vance interrupted, "I think you're missing the point." He paused a moment as he got their attention. "Let me tell you how it's going to go down. NCIS will maintain logistical control. Neither the FBI nor the CIA has satellite access like we do. Points relevant to the Mafia will be handled by the FBI; points relevant to the terrorist cell will be handled by the CIA. Points relevant to the man who's going to pull this mission off will be handled by NCIS, which means that we have the final say in decisions that have to be made pertaining to Agent DiNozzo, the Mafia, and the terrorist cell."

"That's rather presumptuous of you, Director," Kort challenged.

"Not really. We have the most to lose."

"We ALL have something to lose," Fornell explained. "All three agencies are supplying personnel—"

"Not like Agent DiNozzo; otherwise, you wouldn't have spent the last three months preparing him."

"But—"

"—But what?" Vance leaned forward, confronting them. "If you think supplying a few extra people to run interference is the same as supplying the one man your computer spit out as the perfect match, then you've vastly overestimated your importance on this mission."

Vance took in their disbelief and seized their stunned silence to continue, "Besides, if you're wondering why this conference room is a bit crowded, I'll tell you. Everyone is here because I invited them, and because Agent DiNozzo trusts them more than he trusts himself. They're here because they're infinitely qualified to do the job. I know each of you has met Gibbs' team, but I'd like to refresh your memories on why NCIS will have the final say on what goes on with Agent DiNozzo. You've met Ms. Scuito, our world class forensics scientist; Dr. Mallard, one of the most highly regarded and published Medical Examiners in the country, Ziva David, former Mossad with contacts the CIA can only dream about; Agent McGee, who can, and has, run circles around any one of your technical gurus; and finally Agent Gibbs, whose closure rate is still higher than the closure rate of the CIA and the FBI combined. The mission is controlled from here, gentlemen, or there will be no mission because there will be a change in personnel, and I'm not referring to the extras you're supplying."

If Team Gibbs were photographed at that precise moment, their expressions would be one of pride and satisfaction. Leroy Jethro Gibbs smiled crookedly at Fornell, pleased that Vance had actually been listening to him these past several months.

Fornell looked at his counterpart, knowing right away whose idea it was to take control. He looked at Kort, sensing the fight wouldn't be worth the rewards. He weighed the determination on Vance's face and knew he'd been played. Leon had waited until the FBI was too far invested in the case to pull such a maneuver, and in that moment, he developed a new appreciation for the NCIS Director. Taking a deep breath, he ceded the argument. "Very well, we'll do it your way. For now."

The phone buzzed and the secretary was heard saying, "Director? Special Agent DiNozzo and FBI Agent Dalton are here."

There was a shift in the room, nervous excitement at the announcement.

"Send them in."

Tony walked in first, presenting a stark contrast to the man that had walked out of NCIS three months earlier. His team sized him up, acknowledging his new look. Gone was the suit, the custom shoes, and designer ties. They had been replaced by faded blue jeans, work boots and a hoodie. His hair was long, too long, and he hadn't shaved in several days. He was lean, and muscled, and he looked angry until he saw Gibbs, and then, and only then, came the familiar smile. "Hey, Boss."

"DiNozzo. How're you doing?"

"Good. I think. Still don't know anything about this so-called mission I've been recruited to do. I'm beginning to believe they just kidnapped me for entertainment value. That's if you call watching me retch into a trashcan entertainment."

Gibbs knew what kind of training he'd been given and smiled.

"Hey Ziva, McGee."

"Good to see you, Tony."

"You are looking well," Ziva said, admiring him.

When he saw Abby, he paused, and then stepped around the table and gave her a hug. One of the things he missed most was the unabashed affection from their resident Goth.

"Agent Dalton, did he give you any problem?" Sacks asked.

She narrowed her eyes and glared at her protégé. It was evident that there was some sort of discord between the two of them, "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Fornell made introductions, "Agent Dalton is our Kansas City agent. She'll be handling Agent DiNotzo."

"I'm right here, Fornell, and can hear you," Tony commented, releasing Ducky's hand before he walked across the room to lean on the window sill next to his boss.

Ziva sized up Agent Dalton. She was agitated, not terribly unusual after spending a morning with her partner, she thought. It made her smile that he pissed her off; at least she wasn't the only one he annoyed. But looking at her partner, she had to admit that he didn't seem any worse off. In fact, he appeared quite the opposite. He was in good shape, probably the best shape he'd been in since she'd known him. His skin was tanned and healthy looking and his eyes were clear and focused. Outwardly, he was the picture of health. However, she felt that there was an undercurrent of emotion running through him, which she couldn't put her finger on, but there was something definitely different about him. More confidence? Hardly, Tony was the most confident man she knew. Anxiety? No, he didn't seem nervous. Lonely? Perhaps.

"I'm sorry, Agent DiNotzo, but from now on you'll have to get used to the FBI's way of doing things," Fornell said. "Shall we get started? I don't want to spend all morning here," and he handed over a flash drive to Agent McGee. "Would you mind bringing this up?" A few seconds later, the plasma TV in the corner of the room was displaying photos of people. "This man, Vinny DiCarlo, Sr. is widely considered to be the Washington DC Mafia king. He ascended to the rather lofty position after his uncle was gunned down in New York City three months ago." He clicked the remote and displayed the next screen, "And this man is believed to be the ayatollah of the terrorist cell, Ahmed Abu-Wahib. He's East Coast Ivy League educated and owns a string of car dealerships in the greater Metropolitan area that expands all the way into Illinois, Peoria to be exact."

"Strange bedfellows," Dr. Mallard observed.

"It gets stranger. These two don't exactly like each other. The Mafia may be one of the most organized crime syndicates around, but even they don't want to see America attacked by terrorists. And the sleeper cell doesn't exactly want to be indebted to an American organization for any attack that may be carried out. So they work together, but grudgingly. And at times it can be tense. That's the weakness we plan to exploit."

Fornell went through a few more slides and Gibbs only half listened to the spiel. Instead, he studied his agent. In the past, DiNozzo always had a playfulness about him that showed in his face. Now, that playfulness was gone. There was nothing in his eyes but concentration. Suddenly, Tony looked straight at him. Their eyes caught, and for a brief second, Gibbs thought he saw something there. Was Tony asking to be taken off this assignment? He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a man pleading to come home. Tony's expression was so quick and fleeting that Gibbs couldn't help but wonder if he had indeed seen anything at all, or was it simply his own thoughts and feelings being deflected back at him. He wouldn't find any answers now because DiNozzo had turned back to the screen and was intently studying the faces and listening to the plan.

But Tony wasn't really hearing anything. He hadn't wanted to turn away from Gibbs; he had to. He had so many mixed up feelings inside him that he couldn't make sense of it all. He wanted to talk to his boss, but was afraid that anything he might say could jeopardize the mission. A mission, he thought, that scared him. Not the actual undercover work, that's not what scared him. He could meld into any organization with ease. What scared him was getting out. Closing the deal and sealing a conviction were two of the most difficult tasks an agent could do. His skills weren't what they used to be even with the around the clock preparation that he'd been given these past three months. Add to that who his backup was going to be, and he had major reservations. He didn't want the FBI backing him up; he wanted NCIS doing it. He wanted Gibbs as his backup, and he wanted Ziva and McGee around. Always present in his head was the fact that the last two ops that he'd done solo didn't exactly turn out as expected, making his track record less than stellar. Eventually, he tuned back into the conversation.

"How do you propose DiNozzo do that?" Kort asked. "He's not exactly of Middle Eastern dissent."

"No, he's not," Fornell said, "but he is Italian, and he's had previous undercover experience working with the Mafia."

"But," McGee interjected, "wouldn't it be because of that previous experience with the Mafia that he wouldn't be a good fit? I mean, he did put a bunch of them in prison for a long time."

"Actually, his undercover work in Baltimore is playing in our favor," Sacks explained. "The Mafia never knew that DiNozzo was a cop and never knew it was him who flipped on them. The Baltimore PD actually did something quite ingenious regarding that operation. They created a dummy file, complete with records and everything. They made it look like DiNozzo was a victim, and that the real rat was a disgruntled son-in-law."

"Why would they do that?" McGee asked.

"You'll have to ask them," Fornell said. "Sometimes even cops get lucky."

Tony looked nonplussed, remembering that time in his life. He hadn't just been accepted into the mafia family; hell, he'd been thoroughly embraced by the Lombardi Family, and when the cops came in and busted everyone, to maintain his cover, they busted him too, and left him sitting in a real cell with real thugs for a week. Not a pleasant memory by anyone's account.

"How do you propose he gain access to the Mafia's inner circle? That type of infiltration takes years," Vance said.

"Not if the daughter falls in love with you," Sacks smiled.

Tony eyes darkened. His team was well aware of that look, but the other members in the room hadn't a clue that they were treading on dangerous ground. "What?" he whispered.

Sacks reiterated, "You simply get one of the DiCarlo daughters to fall for you. There are four of them, and they're all available."

"No way," Tony toned. "I'm not going to rip some girl's heart out, again."

Gibbs leaned back, wondering how Sacks was going to handle him.

Stunned by the comment and its tone, Sacks retorted, "It's the only way, DiNozzo. You get one of them to fall in love with you, she brings you into the family, and you're immediately made a lieutenant in the organization."

"The daughters are innocent bystanders in the Mafia, Slacks. They never know anything."

"That's why it's such a perfect cover! It cuts off about two years of undercover work!"

"Find some other way," Tony demanded.

Slacks was getting pissed and replied, "We don't have another way that saves us that kind of time! Besides, it's not like you haven't done it before!"

Tony pushed off the sill, stepping forward and glaring across the room at the man. There was a hushed silence in the room as his pupils dilated. Fornell saw what was going to happen and pulled Sacks back before he could do more damage, "Shut up, Ron. Let me handle this."

But the glare Tony gave Fornell was a little unnerving. Gibbs knew if he didn't intervene, there wouldn't be much of an operation to discuss because the main headliner was going to take out the producers. "Tony," he said, taking hold of his shirt sleeve and urging him towards the door, "Come with me."

Tony looked from Slacks to Fornell while debating the offer from his boss.

"C'mon," Gibbs coaxed.

He swallowed and lowered his head, debating the merits of leaving against the advantages of staying.

"Tony," Gibbs whispered, again.

It was enough to break his concentration and he wisely decided to follow his mentor out of the conference room.

Gibbs wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say especially since he had no vested interest in the outcome of the mission other than the obvious. He didn't care if Tony did the mission or not, but there were three agency heads who might have something different to say about it. Once alone in the hallway, he asked, "What have I always taught you?"

Tony furrowed his brow and bit his upper lip, "Never get married?"

Suppressing the urge to head slap him, he stated, "If you don't like the parameters, change them."

"How?"

"There has to be other ways to move up in a crime family."

DiNozzo's mind began to churn. Yes, there was another way. "Can you get me the information I'll need?"

Gibbs didn't even answer: By his expression, he thought it was a stupid question.

Sacks looked up when they returned to the conference room and drummed his fingers on the desk, showing his annoyance. "I trust that you now see it OUR way?"

Tony leaned back again on the window sill and smiled. His smile was enough to melt the ladies in the room, no matter how professional they tried to be. "What I see is what I've always seen."

"This is the FBI's show, DiNozzo, and you WILL do it OUR way!"

"What I WILL do, Slacks, is be your inside man. What I won't do is get myself killed in the process. So I'll tell YOU what I will do."

"You'll—"

"—Agent Sacks!" Fornell cut him off. "Let's listen to what he has to say."

Tony wallowed in the win for a moment, staring at Slacks with satisfaction, even though it was only a small victory in the scheme of things. "All you want me to do it two things. First, you want me to cause a riff between the Mafia and the terrorist cell; and second, you want information: names, places, routing numbers, etcetera, etcetera. Am I right?"

Fornell nodded.

"Then let me go in my way. Don't give me a script to follow, don't give me one of your FBI plans, just let me go in and do what you obviously feel I'm capable of doing."

"That's not how we do things," Sacks toned.

"—I like it," Fornell countered.

Sacks did a double take. "What?"

"I like it. I think Agent DiNotzo has a point."

"And I don't want anyone going in with me. There's no need endangering other agents' lives unnecessarily."

Fornell shifted, obviously not liking that part of the plan. Running an operation of this size with just one man was a risk the FBI didn't often take.

"Listen, Fornell, you let me do this my way, and I'll have this done in less time than I spent entertaining you."

All eyes waited for his response. Fornell knew he'd have a hell of a lot of questions to answer, but the bottom line was he could justify a whole lot of things now that three agencies were working together. "Okay, we'll do it your way, for now. But the second you get into trouble, don't be surprised if plans change. Agreed?"

Before Tony could respond, Director Vance answered, "Agreed."

~~TBC