So ... I deliberately left the prior chapter (aka the whole story) in an "unfinished" place, to use a term offered by one of my commenters. It was hard to avoid doing so, since I limited the story to G's POV, but that doesn't mean that I liked leaving it that way.

A few days and a lot of conversations with the muse later, here's a slightly more "finished" place. I hope it satisfies, at least somewhat.

One week later….

G had never considered himself particularly religious, but he'd always respected those who did. The Church of the Unlocked Mind case was making him reconsider that stance.

Certainly the argument could be made that the Church of the Unlocked Mind wasn't a real religion, and G allowed that might be the case. Still, whatever name it went by, that Church demanded so much of one's will and life that it could not, ultimately, be good.

Thankfully, he hadn't had to go undercover inside the church as Kensi and Deeks had, much less been assaulted like Kensi had. Still, the case left a bad taste in his mind, and he couldn't finish the final reports for it fast enough.

His phone rang, and G stifled a curse. Whoever was calling was just one more delay in completing his report.

He tried to keep his impatience from his voice when he answered. "Callen."

"Huh. Figured you'd be out saving the world or something."

G recognized Tony DiNozzo's voice and sat back in his chair, closing his laptop. If this call was about what he thought it was about, he'd need all his focus for it. "Only on Tuesdays."

"Today's Thursday, must be my lucky day."

G chuckled briefly. Then, "You calling to take me up on my offer?"

"Nah. Hetty and me … like mixing oil and water."

When DiNozzo didn't elaborate, G blew out a breath and asked the question he didn't want to ask but had to. "How are things at the Navy Yard?"

"Interesting," was all DiNozzo said.

G couldn't help asking, "In the cursed sense of the word?"

To G's ears, DiNozzo's laugh sounded a little forced. "Maybe a little. Gibbs has been suspended pending the results of an FBI investigation."

"I heard." More accurately, he'd been subjected to a couple of phone calls from an irate Leroy Jethro Gibbs during which the man had - well, after babysitting Kamran Hanna since she was a toddler, G could only say that his old friend had thrown a temper tantrum.

He'd let Jethro rant for the first call, figuring he owed him that much for the friendship they'd shared. When Jethro called the second time and started in the same vein, however, G asked him to talk civilly about it. Jethro shouted some more, and G hung up on him. There had been eight more hang-ups before Jethro quit calling.

G hoped their friendship would survive, but after Jethro's truly spectacular and inventive methods of cussing G out, he wasn't hopeful.

"I'll bet you did." There was no humor in DiNozzo's tone, only weary understanding. His voice sounded stronger when he said, "And since they confirmed that he was behind your email going mysteriously awry, McGee's been reassigned to IT to oversee an agency-wide systems update."

G blinked, frowning even though DiNozzo couldn't see it. "IT? Not Cyber Crimes?"

DiNozzo snorted. "Vance learned his lesson the first time."

"First time?" G prompted.

"Right after he became director, he broke up the MCRT," DiNozzo said. "Ziva was sent back to Israel, I got shipped off as an agent afloat, and McGee was reassigned to Cyber Crimes…where they treated him like a god."

"Not the best place to send him for punishment, then." G paused. "It is punishment, right?"

"Oh, yeah. The worst kind."

"I would've thought firing him would be worst punishment."

"My contact in HR tells me that a stint in IT, especially after being with Cyber Crimes, will look really, really bad on his resume."

G let out a low whistle. "That is twisted and perverted. I like it. Vance's idea?"

"AD Owen Granger," DiNozzo replied.

"So that's where he's been the last few days," G murmured more to himself than to DiNozzo. Of course DiNozzo picked up on it.

"Yeah. Flew in to personally suspend Gibbs and Vance and take over as acting director."

Another surprise in a phone call full of them. "Both of them?"

"Both of them." Then DiNozzo chuckled. "You should've seen him confront Gibbs."

G pictured the moment in his mind. "The growling contest to end all growling contests. If Granger weren't AD, even money on who'd win that."

"Some people still think Gibbs won that contest - even if Granger outranks him."

"Some people are unobservant."

"Or blindly loyal."

G winced, even though there was no rebuke in DiNozzo's tone, nor any ironic self-awareness. But then again, DiNozzo didn't strike him as the kind who would be blindly loyal.

Loyal, yes, but DiNozzo would have reasons for that loyalty, even if outsiders like G wouldn't or couldn't understand them.

After a moment, G said, "How about you? How're you doing?"

"I'm … okay," DiNozzo answered finally. "Temporary MCRT lead while Gibbs is on suspension."

G closed his eyes against the resignation in DiNozzo's tone - not just the fact of it, but his questions about it. Anger, he understood. Frustration, he understood. But why resignation? There was only one way to try to find out.

"Sorry for making a scene," G said. "But I couldn't let it slide again."

DiNozzo's sigh came through the line - not as heavy as G would've expected, but still noticeable. "I should've said something a long time ago."

It was on the tip of G's tongue to ask why he hadn't, but he stopped himself. He and DiNozzo weren't friends, weren't really even colleagues. That kind of question might be out of bounds.

Thankfully, DiNozzo filled the silence that threatened to become awkward. "But that's not why I called."

At the seriousness of his tone, G straightened in his chair. "What's up?"

"Remember how the DEA jumped the gun?"

G snorted. "And shot up a perfectly good Italian restaurant?"

"That should be a crime," DiNozzo said.

"It should. What about it?"

"Somebody higher up the food chain than your former partner realized that, and now wants Tony Macaluso to fill the void that shoot-'em-up left and take down the distribution networks."

Like that wasn't our original plan. "Better late than never."

"Think Sebastiano Lapaglia might want to get in on the action?"

G smiled, though DiNozzo couldn't see it. "Seeing as how he was the one who got Tony Macaluso into the meeting, it seems fitting."

"How quickly can you get to DC?" DiNozzo asked.

"Tell Granger you want my assistance," G said. "He'll make it happen."

"You sure?" DiNozzo sounded skeptical. "He's grumpier than Gibbs."

"Grumpy, yeah, but he'll authorize it. Meantime, I'll look for flights to DC."

"Okay." Just when G thought DiNozzo was hanging up, DiNozzo spoke again. "And Callen? Thanks."

"Always happy to help catch bad guys," G said lightly.

"Not for that." DiNozzo's tone was as serious as G's was light. "For making a scene. It was a real wake-up call."

G knew he wasn't imagining DiNozzo's slight stress on the word real, and he pitched his tone to match. "Less painful than Jethro's, I hope."

"Differently painful," DiNozzo said. "But yours was necessary."

His weren't. The words echoed, unsaid, between them. G let the silence linger for a moment, acknowledging both what DiNozzo said and what he didn't say.

"If you want to talk, I'll listen." It sounded inadequate to G's ears, but it was all he could think of to say.

"You can buy me a drink after we dismantle the Mafia distribution networks."

G smiled at the invitation. "No Scotch older than either of us."

"No problem," DiNozzo agreed readily. "See you tomorrow."

G stared at the phone for a long moment after he hung up. At least he had one less reason to lie awake at night now. He might have damaged his friendship with Jethro beyond repair, but maybe - just maybe - he was making another one to add to his limited collection.

It might not be a flawless victory, to borrow a term from one of Aiden's video games, but it was a victory nonetheless.

He'd take it.