It's not that I can't see what's in front of me. I can see it perfectly. I have it all figured out you see, I was going to give this to him later today, but I guess it's going to have to be now. This isn't my place anymore. I was supposed to leave several years ago, not stick in the same routine, not that anything's ever going to be routine around here. I try to focus on my computer, but it's not really doing me any good. I have too much to think about, and I want to give this letter to him, I really do. Just quit...run away. I want to just run as fast as I can and get away from it all.

They've gotten too close. They know too much and they care too much. I don't like it when people care too much. That means I have to care too, and I don't like that. Means I'm getting dependant. Usually I could only trust myself with the deep dark secrets. Now I have friends. That's what they call themselves anyway. I've fought with and against them, I've gone behind their backs and they've hurt me, but I still love them. At least that's what I think it is. Not like Jeanne though, no, not like her.

Shit! Gibbs is staring at me. I look back at my computer and feel the weight of the letter in my pocket. I should get up and give this to him right away. Tell him I'm out, gone, woosh out the door and grin at them as I leave for one final time. I know it's stupid, because I have what everyone wants. Friends. Someone who cares. But not me. I'm not one of those. I'm used to trusting only myself and this is getting on my nerves. Gibbs is coming over. Fuck.

"Let's go Tony," Gibbs sayd and I get up with a sigh, that letter is weighing me down today. I grab my gun and my badge and I follow him into the elevator. Just as I presumed, he reaches out and flicks the switch. "What's going on?" he asks. What should I say? I want to quit? Nothing?

"Not much?" I venture. But of course, he looks right through it and keeps staring at me.

"If that's how you want to play this, then fine," he says and leans against the wall. I've been through this with him once or twice before. I always cave. Not this time though, no, not this time. "You've been getting restless lately. Are you thinking about quitting?" He asks. I give nothing away. He knew, though, like he always does. He's Gibbs, after all, all knowing master of secrecy. Okay that might be a little too harsh but...Gibbs always knows these things. Am I that easy to read? "Tony, we're not moving until you tell me what's going on. Do I need to start looking for another Agent?" he asks, his blue eyes searching my face for answers. I should say something. Anything.

"You know, this reminds me of a story Ducky once told me about two guys that were stuck in an elevator, one of them was really starving after fourtyeight hours trapped, had some sort of syndrome and a mental illness and he killed the other guy and ate his leg," Tony said.

"You're going to eat my leg?" Gibbs asks, and I see a hint of humor in his eyes, and I hear it in his voice. I grin at him.

"Maybe," I say and he snorts. He's not amused anymore. I know we're not moving until he knows for sure. I should give him this letter. He should read it, at least. I reach into my pocket and pull it out, handing it over to him. He takes it and rips open the envelope, scanning through it.

"Very proffessional," he says as he looks back up at me. "Detatched," he states.

"I thought it was good," I admit.

"Is this what you really want?" he asks, and I lock my eyes with him.

"Yeah, it's time for me to move on," I reply, my lips moving on their own accord. Then he does what he always does, he rips the letter to pieces and shoves it in his pocket.

"Not convinced, and until I am, you stay where you are," he says gruffly and starts the elevator again. We wait. In silence. As the doors open we walk into the bullpen and sit down at our desks.

Like I said, routine.

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AN: I just wrote this because I found it sort of Tonyish. Like something he would do, and Gibbs was very Gibbsish.