DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS

Good for the Soul

Years as a playboy, loving at his leisure, breaking hearts with not much care; Tony DiNozzo, self proclaimed 'Very' Special Agent of NCIS was blindsided when he realized what being in love actually felt like.

It was wrong. Deep down he knew it. Mentally he couldn't have been more aware, but his heart wouldn't let him deny that Jeanne was earning a spot deep inside it. A spot he didn't even know existed.

But then disaster struck. "I want you to meet my father." She asked it so innocently; the natural progression in a relationship that seemed to be getting very serious. The problem, her father was La Grenouille: the focus of his whole undercover op. Then he was nearly killed by the bomb that blew his car to kingdom come.

Before that he had told her the truth. He hoped she'd forgive him, as impossible as it was to wish for. Could she still love him as Tony DiNozzo instead of Tony DiNardo his alter ego that she knew as a film arts professor?

When he saw the hurt and betrayal revealed in her eyes, he almost wished he'd been in that car when it exploded.

His heart beat accelerated when he found the note she left for him in her apartment. When he read it, no heart had ever been more still, at least not in someone still breathing. He gladly would've welcomed death. It would've meant an end to the pain.

But no, being Tony that pain only had to be intensified. First by seeing the distrust loom in the eyes of his teammates. Second by finding no one to help relieve the growing ache and despair.

Despite the team's feelings they were glad he was alive. It left hope that one day he'd earn their trust back. They were a family.

So as he reread and reread that note his heart pulling him one way and then another. Taking a moment at the end of another successful case he watched them: his partners, his boss and their colleagues. He reread the note on last time. The choice was simple really.

The team would never make him choose them or someone he loved. Love wouldn't severe him from his family. He watched the fire burning in the fireplace where he sat at the hearth. The note held lightly in his hand. His eyes fell from those he loved and was loved by, to the note from someone he let himself fall in love with.

He took a deep breath, slowly lifted his hand holding the note and laid it in the fire. As it lit and burned to ash he stood to join his family.

That night he found himself where he'd gone countless times before in need of guidance, security or even a kick in the ass. Gibbs' basement filled with the constant aroma of sawdust, some inevitable project in the process of being created, and the soft sound of wood being sanded.

"DiNozzo. What brings you here?" he hears his boss before he sees him.

Tony doesn't know how to put it all into words. He thinks for the first time, his boss may not be the one he should be turning to. His record with women wasn't the greatest and he never shared that personal part of his life with any of them, except perhaps their medical examiner, Ducky.

He honestly replied, "Not sure, Boss."

Gibbs nodded without taking his eyes from the board in front of him. He ran his hand along the newly sanded portion to test it, and then began to sand again.

Tony watched him with the admiration he always felt. Gibbs was his boss, but in the 'family' he was the 'Dad'. Tony would've liked to be able to have a father to turn to right now. He lowered himself to the step and leaned his head on the banister.

Gibbs stopped and looked at him. He'd been watching him in his peripheral vision. It became obvious the despair had been too much for the younger man to bear.

"I know Tony," he spoke uncharacteristically soft.

The young agent's head snapped up not only at the sound of Gibbs' voice, but the words that he spoke. "You know what, Boss?"

"She wanted you to choose," he delivered it as a statement. The only hint of a question was a raised eyebrow. That question was only asking, 'Am I right?'

He hadn't come here to argue. This opening lifted the burden of confessing the struggle he'd been dealing with. His throat was too tight to speak, so he nodded. The weight of guilt forcing him to look at his feet.

"She was wrong. You know that," Gibbs watched Tony. Reaching the normally carefree man was a daunting task. As quick as he was at making light of any situation, he was just as quick at falling into a heavily darkened mood.

Tony eventually looked up surprised to find Gibbs stooped beside him.

A light cuff to the back of his head was followed by a firm hand holding his head in place to look him in the eyes. Tony's eyes betrayed him by filling with tears.

Looking into Tony's dark green eyes Gibbs' steel blue ones searched to find the path of reason.

"We care about you Tony. We'd never ask you to decide to stay with us or leave to be with someone," he paused twisting his neck to the right. These next words were hard to say, but Tony needed to hear them.

"The women I've loved, aside from Shannon and of course Kelly, all had their own agendas. I was too caught up in my own mind to notice. I was seeking the comforts they offered. Eventually they made their choices and moved on. Those weren't love. No matter how much I wanted to believe it was or even felt it was. It was something else."

Tony digested this rare display of emotion from his boss. This glimpse into the man. He saw a reflection of the agony he was holding hostage in his soul. His tears were now running down his cheeks, but he wasn't ashamed.

He found that someone who understood. Through that understanding he found solace. He'd get over Jeanne and Gibbs would have his six, like always.

"Thanks, Boss," his gravely voice choked out.

Gibbs nodded, gripping the back of Tony's head tightly for a second, before standing, knees popping. Tony stood as well. Quickly before he could change his mind, he threw his arms around Gibbs' neck and buried his face in Gibbs' shoulder.

Stunned for a moment, Gibbs recovered to return the impromptu embrace. "It's okay son," he assured Tony, rubbing his hand across the back of Tony's shoulders.

Composing himself Tony pulled back smiling sheepishly and using the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his face. "Is it alright if I sit here for awhile?"

Clapping Tony's shoulder, the older man turned to go back to his work station, "Stay. Relax. You're always welcome." Picking up the sand block he took a look at Tony. He was going to be alright. Heck the saying was true for him as well: A little confession is good for the soul. In this case it helped both of them. He smirked and went back to sanding while Tony sat quietly taking in all the comforts his basement offered.