TI: In This Life.

AU: SnoopMaryMar

DI: NCIS is not mine.

RA: T

SU: What happens when the bullpen is empty and there's no one left to keep the chills at bay?

Walk in and shut the door, flip the locks and the lights. Hang keys on the hook over the old mission-style cabinet beside the closet. Badge and i.d. in the dish on top of it, along with wallet and spare change. Backpack on the floor beside field boots. Ready for the inevitable 3AM call.

Avoid looking in the mirror. It only reminds you of reality.

Roll your shoulders against the stiffness that just seems to get worse as the days go by. Hang up your coat next to the others in the half-empty closet and head up the stairs to strip off what's left of Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Off goes the shirt and suit into the dry-cleaning bag, the rest into your laundry bin. On goes jeans and an old tee. Gun into gun safe.

Back downstairs as what's left of Tony DiNozzo. Plug in the phone to charge it. Check the machine while flipping through the junk mail and sorting out the few bills.

Car. Telemarketer. Abby. Abby again. Frat brother. Abby again. Nothing else.

Take out the trash. Check the backyard for balls from the neighbour's kid. Throw them back over the fence. Grab a beer from the fridge. Open the freezer and examine the selection of single serving meals. Least loser-like choice?

Ten minutes later, fried chicken, potatoes and green beans and another beer and the evening news. More death, more destruction, even less hope than ever before, it seems.

Back upstairs, toss the laundry in. Clean the bathroom. Grab the dry-cleaning and put it downstairs for the morning so you don't forget it. Running short on shirts and after the ribbing over the blue sweater...

Dust and run the vaccuum. Call Abby? No. Call about the car first. Need to see how much that's going to cost. Might be better off trading it in and getting something else.

Hell. $1,500 for that? Guess that sets Saturday up - car lots and slimy dealers. Joy.

Wipe down counter and start dishwasher. Must remember to ask next door what they think of their Volvo - seems to be running well.

Call Mark back now or after Abby?

Mark first. Sheila got mad last time you called after 9.

Hey, it's Tony. How are you?

Good, I'm good. So you said you had news?

Flop back onto sofa.

Oh. I thought she liked me at least a little when we met at your barbeque. Damn. She seemed really nice. You sure she won't give me her number? Oh. Oh. Okay. Thanks anyways.

Nah. I have to work. Nah, it's fine. Thanks, Mark.

Deep breaths.

I am more than good enough for her precious Juliet. Hell, it's just a date, not a proposal!

Deep breaths. Sheila is not evil. Sheila is not evil. Deep breaths.

Flip tv on. Flick-flick-flick-flick.

Documentary on PBS looks good.

Jeez. Need to let Gibbs know about this - families driven out of Mexico and across border as refugees by cartels. This could get bad - marines from there could be at risk on leave. Ugh.

Hell. Abby.

Hi, Abs.

No, I'm not avoiding you. I just hadn't called you back yet. I had some stuff to do first. What's up?

Nah. Not in the mood. I'm kinda tired. But if you need a ride home, you call me.

Can't. I have fairly intense plans for Saturday.

Gotta look for new wheels.

Well, it's not like I spent much time looking when I bought it, Abby.

I didn't mean it like that. I just needed a car and it fit what I'd just lost.

Something practical. And don't say it. I know. But I don't care, I just want something that isn't going to cost an arm and a leg in repairs and gas!

Yeah, I know Cranky!Tony! isn't your favourite Tony.

Because I'm tired and my shoulders hurt. Which means that the phone will ring at 3AM because some moron's gone and gotten himself killed.

Yep. That kind of ache. You feeling hinky too?

Well, that tears it. Dead man walking somewhere.

You be careful and call if you need a ride.

Yeah, I love you too, Abs. Bye.

Crap. Forgot. Laundry needs to go into the dryer.

Flick-flick-flick through the channels, looking for something to kill the silence. Nothing.

Flip off the tv, flip on the computer. Head to website.

Look through potential matches. No. Hell, no. No, no, no, no, maybe...

Hey, now.

Quickly read the profile. Laugh. Send ping message asking for further details.

Shut off computer.

Get coffee-maker ready for the morning. Get out travel mug just in case. Grab phone and charger.

Back upstairs. Shower. Brush teeth. Use inhaler as per Brad Pitt, three inhales of meds. Sit on edge of tub until hacking coughing fit passes. Put inhaler back on counter. Crap - out of refills. Call that in right now.

Brad, it's Tony DiNozzo. Sorry for calling so late but I just realized I'm out of refills on my night inhaler, which is half empty. Can you call in an updated scrip to the pharmacy or do you need me to come in? Please let me know. Thanks.

Pyjamas on and into bed.

Should've turned on the electric blanket first. Hate cold sheets.

Late news - world still sucks. Lights off, tv off, phone close by.

Shifting closer to centre of the bed. Less empty that way.

Maybe when I wake up, there will be someone to have breakfast with.