Title: The DiNozzo Diaries
Author: rekkidbraka
Rating: T
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.
Category: Romance
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
Spoilers: From final two eps. of Season 6
Summary: Tony's most private thoughts and desires revealed
-------------------- The DiNozzo Diaries ---------------------
Women.
Man, I love women.
That's not totally the reason I got into this special agent gig but... okay, yeah, it's a BIG part of why I opted for the cool badge and gun instead of taking the nine-to-five desk jockey "I-have-a-meeting-about-today's-meeting-and-did-you-get-my-memo-about-the-meeting-later?" route.
See, women love the badge. And the gun. And the guy who has them.
And I'm that guy.
You do the math.
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But here's the thing: I'm in a major slump. Haven't even been to first in more than a year. Hell, I haven't even gotten out of the batter's box.
Not since Jeanne. I loved her. But that's finished. No do-overs. Not with her. Not ever.
It's not like I don't want to ... be with someone new. I do. Absolutely.
Jeanne's gone, not coming back and even if she did... there's too much we'd have to try working out -- big things, serious things that... really? ... I don't think we could work out no matter how much we'd want to. She blames me for her father's death. And I blame me, too. I know he was a liar - evil, terrible thug guy - but... he was her father and she loved him. Didn't know that side of him. Like she didn't know the real me - Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, who was lying to her about the man I was -- just like her dad did his whole life.
He used her. I used her. We both proved to her that we were top-notch liars.
Thing is, he's dead now. And I'm just feeling that way.
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So this chick that I was talking to about ... my problem ... told me that she's an expert at this stuff. It's, um, been her "business" to know what guys want, if you get my drift. Anyway, her point was that it isn't that I want Jeanne back or I want to hit the sack with all these girls I've been dating (and striking out with, bigtime). She said that I just haven't found the right woman -- yet -- and that's my problem. That's why I'm blowing it with every woman I've dated in the past year. Like, I'm doing it on purpose deep down because I don't really want to be with them. I want to be with this "right woman," whoever she is.
Then Ziva interrupted us when we were coming out of the elevator and that was that. End of convo.
If the "right woman" isn't Jeanne, then who the hell is she?
Wasn't Kate or Paula. They were too damn good for me. Abs? GOD, no. Be like kissing my sister. If I had a sister.
That would leave You Know Who. Except that she hates my guts and, oh yeah, every other part of my anatomy right now and she's my partner -- was my partner -- which means I'd be breaking Rule No. 12 and her taste in guys apparently starts and ends with sleazy hairball double-agent scumbags who would've killed me if I hadn't killed them first. Oh, and did I mention that sleazy hairball double-agent scumbag guy sure did look like he tried his damndest to kill her back in the day? No? Gee... sorry. Slipped my mind. These things happen.
See why I'm kinda confused? Yeah. Thought so.