Tony and the Moose

chapter 7

AN: The moose, at last. And I know, and Tony knows, that the plural of moose is moose. And a reminder, hinenihii is the Arapaho word for moose that Hazel gave to Tony.

I have an inuksuk, or rather an inuunguaq, that I bought in BC; I WILL get back to Canada one day.

Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me, special thanks to the unsigned in guest reviewers.

Vance had called Tim up to his office a few days ago. Gibbs had watched him go, but said nothing. The Director had come straight to the point.

"Agent McGee – I've been meaning to ask you, are you happy where you are?"

Tim looked for the right words. "I...don't know if happy is the right word. I think I'm best where I am, for now at least."

"Go on."

"I think," Tim said slowly, "that I haven't been a Senior Field Agent anything like long enough to hope for my own team yet, which would make any move sideways. So I think I shouldn't move at all. Not just yet."

Vance nodded. "You're fine staying with Gibbs?"

"I'm beginning to understand how Tony – er, Agent DiNozzo felt. The responsibility for looking after the team – especially Gibbs. The necessity for loyalty, because Gibbs couldn't function without it."

"Hmm… even if it wasn't appreciated. Is Gibbs the same with you?"

"No, Director. When Tony was Senior Field Agent, I used to wonder why he put up with it, and if Gibbs were still acting in the same way, I'd have been up here by now. It was one of the last things Tony said to me – not to wait as long as he did. But Gibbs is different. Quieter… he still yells at suspects and LEOs pretty indiscriminately, but he's quiet with us. I think… no, I'm certain he feels guilty now about Tony. He understands that… well, he had a Shelby Mustang, and treated it like an old Pinto."

Vance allowed himself a smile at the analogy. "Loyalty… can Gibbs still not function without it?"

"I think he still needs me, Sir. Enough to make me stick around. To be truthful, I've lost my teacher, and I'm learning more by just doing things… Gibbs doesn't teach, although he expects us to learn – so when I have a question, I call Tony."

Vance actually laughed. "I've been known to do that myself! O...K… we'll leave things as they are – I commend your attitude. Feel free to come to me if you need to."

"I will Sir, thank you."

So here they were, working a case, with young Paul Fawcett settling in as their probie, having stayed the course after all. Tim had quietly commended his guts, and found now that he had to stand between him and Ziva's waspishness far more than Gibbs' temper.

Ziva was talking to witnesses, while Fawcett bagged and tagged – a duty he always performed faultlessly – whilst Gibbs took photos. Tim sketched dutifully; it wasn't his forte, he knew, but since the competent artist was no longer on the team, he'd do it to the best of his ability. He felt restless, and heaven only knew why, felt that Tony was at the root of it. He checked his phone, openly; Gibbs seemed to trust these days that the appearance of a cell phone didn't automatically mean time-wasting, but there were no messages.

Whatever… the feeling went on all day. He did receive a text from Abby, saying more or less the same thing. She worried about Tony, far away, and worried about Gibbs right under her nose. Tim let her know he'd fix up a video conference as soon as possible.

In Wyoming, Moss Mackie decided, for no particular reason that he knew of, to take a lunch break, something he never did, and drive over to the clinic where Hazel worked. He wasn't surprised when his wife greeted him with relief and a huge hug; they had this thing between them after more than thirty years.

"I'm so glad to see you, love, I feel really out of sorts."

"What's bothering you, sweetie?"

"Oh, Moss, if I knew… Tony keeps coming into my head. I hope he's not in some sort of trouble..."

"Maybe someone else needs rescuing. Let's go have a coffee, and text the boys to see if they know anything." His wife hugged him again. "You're a star."

o0o0o

Meanwhile, the man himself was trundling Destina slowly down the road. He'd passed Tay's house, on its bank slightly above street level, and looked away; he hadn't wanted to see those two crimson chairs. He'd passed the side track where he'd stopped to help a ranger, and found an amazing woman, and kept going. And going. There was a hard lump against his heart, and for a while he thought that it was just the organ reminding him that he was an idiot and a complete coward, until he recalled that he'd put the inuunguaq in his breast pocket, and the weight of it was reminding him the exact same thing that his heart was.

Tay hadn't been surprised, seeing the panic crossing his face at the same instant that he felt it.

"I'll just say this," she'd told him softly, "you should stay. You should. I know you won't, but you should."

He'd already told her about the 'thing', the getting his hopes up and having them crash down, so he just said, thickly, trying not to look into those brown eyes and think what he was leaving, "I'll get it wrong. It always goes wrong."

"I wish I could get my hands on whoever convinced you of that, you dumbo," she said rudely. "I'd beat it out of them, since I can't beat it out of you." Tony stood there, feeling helpless, and sick, but still sure that leaving was the best thing to do..

He watched curiously as Tay went over to the gift shop, with a glance at Ben, and came back with a small, stone figurine. She put it in Tony's hand, and he stared at it until she closed his fingers round it. It was a strange little representation of a human figure, constructed of square and rectangular blocks of dark grey-brown rock. "Most people call this an inukshuk," she said, but that can be any stone construction, a standing stone, a pile, a cairn… this one that looks like a human is an inuunguaq. They're kind of becoming a symbol of Canada." There she was, giving him the tour-guide treatment, when her heart was threatening to break. "The Inuit people put them on trails; they guide the weary traveller, alone in the wild, back to hearth, home, and love. You take it, and remember us. Me."

He wanted to bend his head down and kiss her cheek, but he didn't. She wanted to follow him out to his motor bike, but she didn't. She tried not to hear the sound of it fading in the distance.

Ben watched as her shoulders slumped, came over, and draped an arm round her shoulder. "You OK, gal? You know… I kind of thought there was something happening there, with you guys."

"There is… but he's just not ready to admit it to himself."It's not me he doesn't trust, it's him." She gave him an over-bright smile. "I'd better pay you for the inuunguaq."

"You don't have to -"

"I do, Ben, or it isn't a gift from me."

Every bump in the road made that little stone figure bump his chest a little harder, and he clenched his teeth. His hand gripped the throttle more tightly than he intended, and it wasn't until he'd ridden another ten miles that he realised he was going faster than was safe. He pulled to the side of the road, and sat for maybe ten minutes without moving, and feeling dreadful. He was running for his life, instead of seizing a chance. Fool. Cubbin was maybe thirty miles behind him now. (They used kilometres here, and he hadn't been looking for distance markers anyway. They were pretty infrequent on these minor roads, anyway.) In the end he stirred himself to fish for his phone. If the reception was good enough, he ought to look for somewhere to stay.

Before he could switch it on, he heard a snort. He looked up; a very large bull-moose was standing in the road ahead of him. Where'd that come from? It wasn't there a moment ago… It regarded him with that look – did all mooses wear that disapproving expression?

He raised his visor. "Hey… don't look at me like that! And get out of the road!"

The moose spoke – or, it seemed as if it did. It spoke with Tony's voice. "Put your phone away. You're an idiot."

"What?"

The big fella moved its head slowly, and blinked. This time it was Tim's voice. "Try 'What if I do find what I'm looking for and it involves doing something way different? Taking a huge leap of faith?' You've spent almost three weeks just bumming around, shedding dead weight, you could keep on doing that, but that's not you. Tony, you get on that bike and ride, and face it, whatever it is, dead-on, make it come right. That's you."

Tony tried to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. He tried to inch the bike to the other side of the road, but the moose just took a couple of paces in the same direction. It gave him a sour glance that said, 'is that the best you can do?' Then Hazel Mackie said, "Tony, the thing you need to know about a spirit journey is that it does come to an end. The spirit isn't meant to wander forever."

Tony felt a cold shiver of shocked comprehension run down his back. He whispered one word, very softly. "Hinenihii..."

The moose lifted its head, and took a couple of steps towards him, but he didn't feel threatened. His heart was beating fast – had he ever imagined that he'd get to meet his spirit animal? The big bull-moose came quite close, and they looked each other in the eye. A voice that could have come from the trees or the earth said softly, "The only way a spirit journey can come to a bad outcome, is if the traveller stubbornly resists a good one."

Tony bowed his head for a few moments, and nodded slowly."You're right…" He lifted his head again, and the moose was gone. He may have caught a glimpse of a white rump among the trees, but he really wasn't sure. "Thank you," he murmured to his spirit guide, lowered his visor, and turned Destina round.

He wanted to drive fast, but resisted. Dusk was falling, and there was even more chance of a collision with an unwary animal, so he put his light on low beam, and went cautiously. His heart was racing again by the time he reached the outskirts of the town.

She was sitting in one of the crimson chairs, watching the road… She'd left a space alongside the truck, instead of parking it in the middle of the hard-standing, and she stood up as he eased Destina into the gap. She was no longer in uniform, but wore a flowing, soft mid-calf dress in deep purple, that fused modern style and traditional First Nation; there were comfortable, tall mukluks on her feet. As he pulled his helmet off, she came down the short flight of steps to the parking space. She looked at him solemnly, and didn't speak, but simply held her hand out to him.

A moment later, they were hugging each other close, as if they never wanted to be parted again. Tony lowered his cheek against the top of Tay's head, and muttered "I'm sorry," but she just chuckled, and made a shushing sound, holding him tighter.

After a while, she said "Ow!", pulled away and started probing the area round his heart with her fingertips. If she was aware of his tiny shiver, she didn't say. Time enough for that later… "The inuunguaq… it brought you back safely."

"It had help. Hinenihii… I'll tell you all about it some time. Tay… do you believe this is happening? Can we fall in love this quickly?"

"Take it from me, once and for all, you are worth loving."

"Then… Waawaatesi, I love you." She lifted her face towards his, and the kiss they shared was all that either of them needed to know about the rest of their lives.

o0o0o

18 months later…

"I don't know what to tell you, Director," Tim said. Once again, up in Leon Vance's office, the subject was Gibbs. "Yes, I want my own team. Of course I do. Do I think Gibbs and the team would be fine without me?"

"McGee, that wouldn't be your problem."

"I know, Sir, but in my head it always would be. Did I do the right thing by him, when I was doing the right thing by me? I think we all work well enough together, we've got a team; Agent Fawcett is doing well… but Gibbs… he's functioning, but not… Sir, I can't explain it. He's not living… He doesn't care about anything but getting the job done, and over the last few months I've started to see signs of the temper, you know? When things don't go right… he's not actually snapped yet, but I think he will, in the end. He's stressed, but he tries to deal with it in a totally… robotic? Does that make sense? A robotic way."

"I understand what you're saying, McGee… but what do you suggest I do? I want you to take up your own team; there are several positions that need filling, and staying where you are makes you, to be blunt, a wasted resource. Are you saying I should retire Gibbs? Reassign David and Fawcett?"

"Sir… that's the sort of decision you're qualified to make and I'm not. Er… may I have a few days to think about it?"

Vance smiled thinly. "Forty-eight hours maximum, McGee."

"Thank you, Sir."

As Tim headed for the door, the Director added, "Remember me to DiNozzo - I'll be interested to hear what he thinks, let me know. And by the way, one of the posts I need somebody to take up is in Seattle."

o0o0o

"Well hell, yeah, Tim, of course we'd like you to be that much nearer to us… pick the one that's best for you, though."

"So I should leave Gibbs' team, then."

"You've done eighteen months of the loyalty thing… and now you're telling me he's getting worse. There. Is. Nothing you can do about it… I used to tell myself all the time that I'd find the answer, but you know I never did."

"Mmm… did I tell you, he still asks about you sometimes? If your name comes up some other way, he'll ask if you're OK. He never wants to hear any details… I think he just wants to know you're still alive, and he didn't kill you."

Tony frowned, and made one of those quantum leaps he used to do all the time. "Hell… Tim, you think he wants forgiveness, or something? He wants me to tell him it's all right, but no way in hell would he ask? Tim, do you think he should come here? Does he actually know about here?"

"No, he doesn't. I'd tell him stuff if he asked, but you know he doesn't."

"Get him to look at the website… no, we know he won't do that either. I'll send you some stuff. And ask for some time off before you take up your new post. Come out and visit. Unless it's Seattle of course, then you can come over all the time. It's only three hundred and fifty miles!"

A few days later, Gibbs was observed sitting at his desk, intently reading something that had been placed there earlier. He didn't speak, and barely moved for almost an hour, until Ziva and Fawcett were both burning with curiosity. Tim wasn't – he was the one who'd put it there. When Gibbs went up to MTAC, they both dived across to his desk. There was a small information pack for a place called 'Moose Lodge', but what got their attention most was a copy of a newspaper article:-

New Retreat opens in Cubbin, BC

The whole town of Cubbin tuned out yesterday, for the opening of Moose Lodge, a retreat and recuperation centre converted from the old hunting lodge on the eastern side of the town. The lodge had lain empty for more than five years, and although a use had been sought, none had been found until the idea of a retreat was mooted. The historic building was becoming an eyesore, and was in danger of demolition.

The Lodge is primarily intended for law officers from Canada or the USA, recovering from sickness or injury, but will be open to anyone who has need of it. The Lodge has rooms for twelve guests, and offers many activities, from painting to archery and wildlife hikes. The only hunting permitted, however, is with a camera!

The whole town has taken an active interest in the project, which was the brainchild of two residents of Cubbin, Tony and Tay DiNozzo, seen here with their four month old son Zachary, Mayor Bob Clifford, and an enthusiastic crowd.

Ziva and Fawcett, (who realised he was looking at the legendary DiNozzo about whom everyone talked with either fond memories or stories that were surely too tall to be true,) stared at the picture. Tony looked out of the photo, tanned and fit, hair lightened by the sun, and sporting a light pirate beard. His arm was round the shoulders of a small, attractive First Nations woman, and a curious little boy with his father's green eyes sat in a sling in front of him. The Mayor was sharing a joke with them as he prepared to cut a red ribbon across the door of the newly restored building.

Tony is a helicopter pilot, and Tay a ranger, both working for the Canadian National Parks Service; they, and the citizens of Cubbin, hope that Moose Lodge will provide rest and healing for its visitors, for many years to come.

Two weeks later, the Lodge's shuttle bus, arriving from the airfield, disgorged three passengers. They were ushered into the lobby, where two of them were welcomed and conducted to their rooms by the manager. The third stood looking stiffly round for a moment, until he spotted the tall man standing to one side, waiting to greet him.

"Uh… DiNozzo."

"Hello, Gibbs," Tony said gently. "Welcome to Moose Lodge."

AN: Done. Going to be up to my nurdles in work for the museum for a while, but I think there may be one or two more short tales left in this collection.