AN: First of all, thanks for all the lovely, kind reviews. I WILL answer them personally – just been a bit busy writing! Thanks to the two anon. Guests, and to Fred!

Chapter 2

Later that same Saturday… (the day Tony bought the bike, just to be clear!)

"Hey Abs, I just did something mad. Wanna see?"

"Something mad? Tony! What? Tell me now! What have you done?"

"Uh-uh. Patience, my sweet… Just come down to your parking lot."

Abby had scampered down, expecting to see Tony's Mustang, but it wasn't there. However, a few moments later, revving down quietly, a black motorcycle purred up beside her scarlet hot-rod and came to a halt. There was no mistaking the identity of the black leather clad rider.

"Toneeee!" she yelled, as he switched the engine off. She ran over and flung her arms round him before he could even lower the stand and dismount, let alone remove his helmet. "Tony, she's beautiful! I mean, she is a lady, isn't she? Pardon? I can't hear –" and as her forehead connected clunk with his visor - "oh."

She stepped back, laughing, as Tony lifted $500 worth of sleek, black Japanese contraption from his head.

"What would you have done if it wasn't me?"

Abby laughed again. "Well, some complete stranger would have got an Abby hug. But honestly, Tony… I'd know you anywhere. You know that!" She looked at the bike admiringly. "She's very elegant. Mind you, so are you in all that black leather – eye candy for all the ladies at the Yard!" Tony preened extravagantly, as she fingered the sleeve of his jacket, and regarded him consideringly. For all their light-heartedness, something was stirring uneasily in the back of her mind, but she couldn't work out what it was. "You never said anything about getting a bike, Tony. What's up?" It sounded to her something like 'what's wrong?',and she had no idea why.

"Impulse buy," he said proudly, and explained about fate, a traffic signal, and five days of looking in a shop window.

"Mmm. What's Italian for 'fate'?"

"Destino."

"That''s masculine, though."

"So it is," Tony agreed, getting her drift. "Destina, then. Destina, meet Abby, Abby, meet Destina. Come for a ride?"

"Ooh, yes! No – I mean, I haven't got a crash helmet."

Tony held up an admonishing finger, opened the lock-box behind the saddle, and lifted out a helmet with slightly worn gold decals, but clean and serviceable. "Here - borrowed this from the dealer – I have to take it back when I've given my friends a ride. You and Jimmy should about do it!"

"What… not G - er, Timmy?" She bit back the Boss's name, since she knew how things had become, but didn't know how to stop it. Tony pretended not to notice.

"You know Tim's already headed for Norfolk, to prepare to meet the rest of his fraud team. Poor Probie could be there for weeks." Abby did know; the two of them had given him a steak dinner send-off two nights ago, but she'd had to say something instead of Gibbs, and it certainly couldn't be Ziva. Tony held the helmet out. "Go on, see if it fits."

A few minutes later, he swung Destina gently out of the lot, and headed towards town, with Abby wrapped around him. They crossed the Potomac and headed north-west on the George Washington Memorial Parkway, at a respectable pace well within the law; Tony didn't want a speeding ticket on his first date with Destina, and anyway, Abby only had a light jacket.

But as they headed out of the city, Abby wasn't feeling cold at all. Travelling between tall trees, and clinging to Tony as he built the speed up to the legal limit, it was easy to forget that they were still close to civilisation, and she was revelling in the way the bike unwound the 'ribbon of highway', beloved of Woody Guthrie and other poets.

Exhilarated, she found herself humming 'This Land is Your Land' and thinking of Monument Valley and Yellowstone as they crossed back over the river at Carderock, pausing just off the beltway to watch the river for a while… but as they headed back towards town on the Clara Barton Parkway, and she caught glimpses of the city through the trees, she realised what it was that was lurking in her thoughts, and why she'd asked Tony what was up. Oh, no. Just no… In the end it was a rather sombre Abby who dismounted the bike in her parking lot.

Tony climbed off, and removed his helmet, eyes dancing. "So… did you enjoy that? Abby? What's wrong? Don't tell me I went too fast… Abby?"

She handed him the borrowed helmet, and he absently placed it alongside his own on the saddle, as his elation faded rapidly at her expression. He regarded her anxiously.

"You're leaving."

His jaw dropped for a moment. "Leaving? No, Abby, I haven't thought -"

She was all wide green eyes and earnestness. "Yes, you have, Tony. Maybe not consciously yet, but you have."

"Why d'you think that?"

She ran her hand over the brightwork of the shining black motorcycle. "Look at her, Tony. She isn't for puttering around the city. Do you really think that's why you bought her? To travel to the Yard every day? She's made for the open road and adventure. She won't be happy without it. And that's what you've bought her for."

He began to smile, if a little sadly. His smart, wise 'sis' had a way of seeing through walls sometimes. Then she ruined it. "You can't go, Tony. Gibbs needs you..."

He put his finger on her lips. "No, he doesn't. Don't go there, Abs." He didn't want to hear it. Sister that she was to him, and much as she loved him, she loved Gibbs more, and if there was a side to be taken, it wouldn't be his. That was how it was, and he wasn't complaining, but he'd hear nothing for his comfort. "Let's go get some ice-cream..." He pushed the seed she'd planted – or was it watered – firmly out of his mind.

o0o0o

The Director looked at his watch, and Tony wondered with a guilty start if he'd been wool-gathering. "Sorry Sir… I should let you get on."

"No, it's fine, DiNozzo. I was just thinking..." He picked up his desk phone. "Liz, get me Miz Bromstead in HR, would you? Ask her to come up here, and bring the necessary forms for retirement on health grounds." He looked back at Tony. "You said 'unobtrusive'. We can swing it so you can go today. Right now, if it helps." He almost laughed at the flabbergasted look on DiNozzo's face. "Now, you said a couple of of favours. What was the other one?"

Tony got his wits together enough to stutter, "S-sir… er… yes, that would be great. Er… if it's not too much trouble..."

"It's not. Now, the other favour?"

"Oh, yes… I'd like to keep my license to carry."

"No problem. Many former law officers do."

Tony hoped his wince didn't show at that word 'former'. It was time, it was right, he was ready; but it suddenly felt weird. He forced himself to pay attention. "Cross-border," he added tentatively.

"Cross-border? Canada?"

"Well, yes, Sir. The way my thoughts are heading at the moment, maybe BC."

"Fine. Can do – there are protocols to do that. How long have you had your present firearm?"

"It was issued to me when I came back from Agent Afloat, Sir." Funny how things kept harking back to that time…

"It suits you? You've never wanted to change it? Take, it, then. If you turn it in, it's probably too old to be re-issued; it'll be sent for breaking up." DiNozzo was looking less worn down and so much more like his old self, with a smile as if Christmas and his birthday had all come at once; it made him smile himself.

"That's really good, Sir… thanks… you didn't have to bother..."

Vance realised with a shock, that the agent's tongue-tied reaction was less at the fact that the favours he'd asked had been granted, more at the fact that someone had bothered to do it. Again, he thought of DiNozzo Senior, and Gibbs too if he was honest, but he was saved from wondering how to put that into words by the arrival of Delores Bromstead.

After greeting both men, she looked Tony up and down in her rather severe way. "Agent DiNozzo. I'm glad that Liz warned me that the person intending to retire was you. I confess it would have been rather a shock."

"I'm sorry about that, Miz Bromstead."

"Never mind; you always were full of surprises. Such as the motorcycle. I'd already wondered before Liz told me that too. My ladies are rather foolishly keen to find out your identity." Miz Bromstead allowed herself a small smile. "So, I believe, is Miss David."

"Ziva?" He hadn't thought she was that interested, although he recalled a waspish remark in the week after he bought Destina.

She had walked into the bull-pen smiling, and as she sat down at her desk she'd let out a short laugh. Tony had looked up, but didn't ask her what was amusing her. She told him anyway.

"Did you know, Tony – apparently you have a new rival for the baggy-bunnies affections? They all want to know who the black-clad ninja riding the motorbike is. Clearly, they are losing their interest in you!"

He'd smiled gently, "That's too bad, Ziva," and turned back to his work.

The next day it had rained, and he'd used the Mustang instead. This provoked another remark. "I think your rival must be afraid of a bit of rain, Tony. Apparently he did not turn up today."

Tony had acted as if he were thinking about it for a moment, then said, "Oh, poor ladies. Well, the way bikers are treated by some car drivers on a fine day with good visibility, makes them think twice about risking their lives on a bad day! Never mind, I'm sure if you're that interested, he'll be back."

Delores still wore that little smile. "Well, they'll all find out soon enough now, I suppose." She set her folder of papers down. "I'm sorry to hear you're leaving..."

Half an hour later, it was all done. "There," Delores said, gathering the papers up. "I'll take care of it all." She nodded to Vance. "Director." She shook Tony's hand, a little stiffly, but her words were genuine. "I will miss you, Agent – er, Tony. I wish you a happy future." He barely had time to squeeze her hand in both of his and thank her, before she turned and marched out, Miz Bromstead once more.

There was quite a long silence, until Leon Vance asked, "Well, what will you do now?"

"Mmm… I'm stopping at Jimmy Palmer's until I hit the road, cuz I don't want people hammering on my apartment door. I'm keeping it as my postal address – I don't want to be 'of no fixed address' while I'm travelling, and he's moving in as soon as he can organise himself. I suspect he's going to need living space for two soon anyway – have you met his lady?

Vance smiled. "I have indeed."

Tony laughed. "So Jimmy gets the Mustang too – I think Breena will want an SUV in the end. I'll keep in touch through him." He sighed. "There's nothing I need from my desk. I should say goodbye to Abby… then I'll get gone." He shook the Director's hand with heartfelt gratitude, feeling both rootless and liberated all at once.

Outside the office, he hugged Liz, left and set off briskly down the stairs. Beyond the tall windows, the sun was setting. He hadn't reached the bottom before a voice snarled, "DiNozzo! What have you been doing with Vance all afternoon? We've got work to do!"

Gibbs was in his usual angry bulldozer mode, and behind him, Tony could see Ziva smiling, waiting for the fireworks. In Tim's seat, the TAD sat petrified.

The former SFA was chilly. "I had something personal to discuss with the Director, Gibbs."

"The hell you had. You going undercover again? I want to know what you talked about."

"It was private, Gibbs."

"Did you hear me? I want to know what you were talking about!"

"No, Gibbs."

If Gibbs didn't catch on from the hard undercurrent to Tony's voice, he did when Vance spoke from the top landing.

"What part of personal don't you understand, Gibbs?" He came down the stairs in a deliberately unhurried way. "I'll walk you down, Tony."

"Thank you, Director."

"Tony? The Director is calling him Tony?" Ziva asked in astonishment, as the two men disappeared through the door to the stairwell. Gibbs growled something totally unintelligible and went storming up the stairs to tackle the Director's secretary. Tony and Vance looked back through the glass, and the Director shook his head. "I'll go back and rescue - "

"Gibbs from Liz," they both said together.

"I think young Fawcett might need rescuing from his TAD too," Tony added.

"I'll consider his request with sympathy, as long as he has the guts to come and make it," Vance said. "And Tony, you said you'd keep in touch. See that you do."

He went back through the door, and Tony set off down the stairs, back in that rudderless but free mood again. He stopped at his locker, cleared it, put his leathers on, and headed for the lab.

Abby looked up as he entered, and took in his garb and his expression.

"I knew it'd be today," she said calmly. "My soldiers have been out of sorts all day, and so have I."

He hugged her one armed, dangling his helmet in the other hand. "Walk me out to my bike?"

For a while as they walked, she was silent. Then the dam broke.

"You can't go. No… forget I said that. You can go. Of course you can, you have to. But what will I do without you? You will keep in touch. Won't you? Send postcards… I won't try to trace you from postmarks, I know Destina can be 100 miles away before the mailman's emptied the box… and I know you can't tell me where you're going because you know I won't be able to keep it a secret if Gibbs asks me because I can't lie to Gibbs, one look from his eyes and I -"

"I don't know where I'm going, Abs."

"No, but when you do, you'll tell me you're safe? And we can skype, can't we? It doesn't have to be really goodbye, does it?"

By now, they were standing beside Destina, and on a sudden, totally foolish impulse, remembering their ride on the day he'd bought the bike, he said, "Come with me, Abs. Road trip with best friend… what could be better?"

For a moment she looked stunned; thrilled, even. Then, "But Tony..." and he knew what the next word out of her mouth would be, and how it would decide things. "Gibbs..."

He kissed her forehead. "Bye, Abs. Not for ever."

Way behind her, he could see Gibbs storming up the lot; behind him Ziva ran, looking at him and the bike with a comical expression of disbelief. He pulled the helmet over his head, and watched them until they were quite close, and he could look Gibbs straight in the eyes. Then he snapped his visor down, wheeled Destina in a graceful circle, and accelerated away.

AN: Not pleading or anything… but would anyone like a sequel to see where Tony ends up? Tentatively titled Tony and the Moose...