***Continuation of a Round 4 (2009) Ficathon story***
Title: Ligers and Tigons and Tony, Oh My (9b/?)
Author:
justhuman
justhuman
Written for:
spoonyriffic
Prompt: Tony/Gibbs - Supernatural (the genre, not the show) - a series of strange killings in DC leave our favorite NCIS team puzzled, and soon it is revealed that there is something more nefarious behind it all. First Time fic. Rating between R or NC-17, whichever is best for the fic.
Archive: Please ask
Genre: teamfic, adventure, romance
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo, mentions of canon pairings and maybe a surprise
Rating: NC-17 overall, PG this section
Disclaimer: CBS
Word Count: 16,956 this part
Summary: While working a case, Tony runs into a problem with potentially deadly consequences. Now it's up to the team to do what they do best and investigate until they find a solution.
A/N: Many thanks to
ceruleancat. As always, all mistakes are mine.
LJ/DW - Part 1-Harvest Moon
LJ/DW - Part 2 -After the Harvest Moon
LJ/DW - Part 3 - Hunter's Moon
LJ/DW - Part 4 - Hunter's Dawn
LJ/DW - Part 5 - Drag Hunt
LJ/DW Part 6a - Hunter's Bloodhound
LJ/DW Part 6b - Hunter's Bloodhound
LJ/DW Part 7 - Hunter's Lead
LJ/DW Part 8 - Making Game
LJ/DW Part 9a - Waning Hunter's Moon
Part 9 - Waning Hunter's Moon
"Abby!" Tony said as he came into the lab near the end of the day.
"Tony," Abby said with bounce. Technically it wasn't really a bounce, but more of slight bend of the knee. Tony was sure she went down a little, but maybe didn't come back up all the way.
"You're less than your lively self. I should have brought you a Caff-Pow, but Gibbs usually brings you the Caff-Pow and, as you may have noticed, Gibbs can be territorial," Tony said.
Abby gave him a sidelong glance. "This is a revelation to you?"
"No, I've seen Gibbs do the territorial thing before," He tried to make his tone playful and then he couldn't take it anymore. "Last night in the basement-"
"Wait? Why did you go to Gibbs' house last night? You were there five nights in a row with the moon and the confirmation nights before and after."
"Yeah, but I needed to clean up the cage, and there was a playoff game, but we went back to my place for the game. Also, I'll have to go back to his house this week because of the whole wallpaper thing," Tony said in a leading, but charming way.
"I think that you should consider that there was a significant lack of sleep for most of us over the previous week," Abby said.
"Yeah, I -" Tony ran his hand up the back of his hair and then brushed it down again. "Yeah, I didn't actually feel that except for the night after the moon. Tony perked up again. "But speaking about wallpaper removal, I've got a great plan. We'll bring my laptop, and I'll pop in An American Werewolf in London - to watch while we work."
"Tony-"
"I know you've seen it at least once, and I've seen it about a dozen times. But that's the beauty of it!"
"Tony-"
"It's a classic, so if we miss a bit here and there, it'll be okay. And! We've never seen it with werewolf eyes-"
Abby grabbed Tony by the shoulders. "A lack of sleep because we were either solving a murder or watching a friend turn into a mythical beast!"
"The case - I helped! I found-"
Abby put her hand gently on his chest. "Not calling you a slacker! I'm pretty much saying that we had a rough week. Tony, I'm going bowling tonight."
Tony put the brakes on his mouth. He would never dream of getting in the way of Abby's bowling night. "Oh! Well, I couldn't ask you to leave the nuns high and dry," Tony said and then added, "Could I? I mean I wouldn't normally ask, but I've got to be out of my apartment by the fifteenth, which kind of means that I should move this coming weekend, which kind of means I've only got a couple of nights..."
Abby shook her head.
Tony figured it was time to stop acting desperate. "I never stood a chance against the nuns, did I?"
"But I thought of you!" She leaned down and opened a desk drawer and held a red and black item high in the air, like a trophy.
"What is this mysterious device?"
"Ah, grasshopper, the answer you seek, is with McGee."
With McGee and not Abby. Tony took the mystery item and tried to hide the pain that was developing in the pit of his stomach, because it wasn't a bowling night.
***Thursday Evening***
"Abby hates me." Tony slid down a Rumtart-ed wall.
Tim was lying in the middle of the floor with his eyes closed. "She does not hate you. You guys are just going through a rough patch."
"A rough patch?" Tony laughed, letting out all the shittiness that he was feeling inside. "Rough patch! McOptimist, she smells like a donut to me! I threw pieces of goat at her to lure her into my den, and she lied about bowling with nuns! Bowling night is Tuesday night - everyone knows that! I mean, it's hard enough to believe that Abby lied, but to lie about nuns! That's got to be some bad Catholic karma."
"Karma is actually a concept from Hinduism."
"Whatever, McGee. You're missing the point."
"You know that Abby and the nuns are in the championship, right?"
Tony opened his mouth and then shut it. "Championship? I don't remember Abby telling me about that. Abby would have told me about that!"
"Maybe she told you when you were … furry. I don't know; it's been busy. Anyway, they're bowling on different nights because of the elimination rounds."
"Oh," Tony said, momentarily thrown off by the facts. "Okay, forget about the part about lying about nuns. Let's stick with the part that I was trying to lure her into the cage to eat her. Maybe. I don't know. It doesn't seem like something I'd want to do."
"Tony-"
Tony wove his fingers together and rested the back of his head in his hands. "It's like the Type-1 werewolf movies."
"Type what?"
"I've classed werewolf movies based on their basic motifs. Type-1 is the classic a la Lon Chaney and The Wolfman, 1941, not to be confused with 1915, 1924, 1966, 1999 or 2010.
"That's six movies with the same name."
"There are some variations in the title. Some went with wolfman as one word and others listed it as two. The thing is the 1941 classic is Type-1. Guy gets bit by a werewolf and changes at the full moons."
"So you're a Type 1-"
"No. Type 1 has a curse component involved, so there are other supernatural phenomena clouding things."
Tim opened one eye, thinking about it. "Oh, like seeing the ghosts in American Werewolf in London?"
"Yeah, except that American Werewolf is Type-1a," Tony said. "Don't get me wrong, the werewolf being haunted by dead victims is Type-1 all the way; however, there is an important distinction."
Tim snapped his fingers. "Transformation into full wolf form verses a guy in make-up. A wolf verses wolfman."
"Exactly! The thing I'm focusing on in the Type-1 is the part that when in human form, the werewolf sees the mark of the wolf on the next victim. Usually it's an upside down pentagram." Tony said.
"Abby isn't marked with a pentagram," Tim said with some authority in his voice.
"Yeah? When was the last time you checked McLetch?"
"Well, you, you know it's been a while." Tim turned his head to the side and opened his eyes. Then he pointed a finger at Tony as he opened his mouth. "But Abby has strong feelings about co-opting other religious motifs for her tattoos, so there shouldn't be a pentagram."
"You miss checking." It was a statement not a question, and Tony could see that he was right by the look on Tim's face.
"Not the topic of conversation." Tim looked up at the ceiling and let his arms flop to the floor. So if you're not a Type-1 werewolf, then Abby isn't marked with a Type-1 curse. You don't do the full wolf transformation, so not a Type 1a. What kind of werewolf are you?"
"Type-2 until proven otherwise. The Type-2 werewolf's change has no curse; it's been caused by science or a natural event, implying that there is a cure."
"What do you mean until proven otherwise?"
"If we don't find a cure than I might as well treat it as Type-1 and start visiting Voodoo witch doctors."
Tim sat up and looked directly at Tony. "We're going to find a cure."
There was something emphatic about the way McGee said it that gave Tony a piece of hope that he had been grasping for. He nodded.
"So, I'm assuming that Type-2a is full wolf transformations caused by science. What about the werewolves in Underworld and Underworld Evolutions?" Tim asked.
"Type-3. Clan and pack werewolves from a mystical source. This is opposed to Type-3a, which is clan and pack werewolves that arose from evolutionary means, like Blood and Chocolate. Both of these can typically change at will, making them different from the first two categories. The other details are kind of a mix-and-match." Tony asked, "You didn't spot this stuff during your folklore research?"
"I've been researching werewolf mythology, things like translated medieval texts, as opposed to whatever low budget horror that Hollywood is putting out," Tim said.
Tony blinked. "So you haven't watched any werewolf movies since this started? I mean I haven't either, but I think I've had good reason to avoid them. It's part of your job."
"No! I needed something that-"
"That's got some basis in fact?" Tony snarked.
"That hasn't been re-derived a couple of hundred times. For instance, mythology scholars can pinpoint the first time they found stories with silver used in them. They came into vogue when guns were being used regularly as weapons, thus silver bullets. The early werewolf tales didn't contain silver at all."
Tony shrugged, "I have a brand new allergy to silver."
McGee's face squeezed up into a great big frown. "Well, that's true…"
"Ah-ha!" Tony said. "Mythology is not the be all and end all of research. We should watch the werewolf movies and see if anything pings."
"Which werewolf movies?"
"All of them," Tony said.
"Tony, there are a lot of werewolf movies, with trope after trope repeated. I don't know how much I’m going to get out of them."
"I'll get something out of them. Even if it's only you telling me that I'm not like them, or some of them anyway," Tony said.
"I do have all the video of you in the cage," McGee said.
"Tim-"
"Okay, we'll watch some werewolf movies, but not tonight. Sometime when I'm really awake."
"Deal! We'll start watching once we move my big screen over."
"Sounds like a plan - wait! How did this turn into me helping you move?"
"Remember that conversation you had with my landlord about visiting dogs?"
McGee cringed and nodded. "Fine, I'll help you move."
"How do we get started?" Tony asked, getting up.
"You put things in boxes and then we lift heavy things."
"The walls, McGee!" Tony shook his hands at the Rumtarts.
"Oh. Did I mention I was tired?" Tim asked, as he got up and pulled some neatly bound notes from his backpack. The cover of the pamphlet had a drawing of a guy with a sheet of wallpaper draped over his head. "See, I told you Abby still liked you."
"How can you tell it's me?" Tony asked.
Tim moved his fingers, revealing the title - Wallpaper Removal for Tonys. "Look she even put your monogram on the shirt of the guy on the cover.
Tony read the initials and said, "Anthony D. DiNozzo." Tony didn't like the way that Tim was nodding his head and smiling, but he decided to let it go.
McGee opened the pamphlet. "We're going to need the paper tiger."
"Tiger? McGee, see this face, this is the face of me not understanding."
"It is quite the face," McGee said, and Tony thought that he could hear some condescension in his tone. "Paper tiger. It's the red wheel-y thing. Abby said something about giving you one."
"Red wheel-y thing." Tony got a vague flash and then said it again with more confidence. "Red wheel-y thing! Why didn't you just say that?"
"I was saying that, but I was just using its name."
Tony went to his backpack and pulled out the mystery device that Abby had handed him in the lab. He spun the little black wheels. "You know, I played with one of these once."
"Then how come you need me to show you how to remove wallpaper?"
"Well, not one of these these. It was something like it, like little wheels on a stick." Tony snapped his fingers as he recalled more fully. "Paramedics used those wheels on a stick."
"Ah, yes. They usually roll it over a foot to see if they have a reaction or if the patient is paralyzed."
"I got a reaction," Tony said. "Sarah. Yeah, she didn't roll it over my foot, but I guarantee you that I had quite the reaction-"
"Spare me, just-
"Or was it Rebecca. Rebecca, Sarah, Rebecca- it was something biblical."
"Something biblical is about to happen here," McGee said.
"Maybe it was Ruth?" Tony mused. Then McGee snatched the red wheel-y thing from his hand.
"Let me summarize the pamphlet. You use it like this. Just take it and move it in circles over the wallpaper, but you have to be careful not to press too hard. Wallpaper is made of two layers of paper. The top layer is vinyl and the layer underneath is a paper. We poke the holes through the vinyl and then spray it with water. The water goes through the holes and soaks into the paper underneath. Then almost like magic, but more like science -"
Tony had picked up the sprayer, momentarily aimed at the wall and then hosed down Tim's face.
"Oh, McGee! Do you think that will loosen up all those facts stuck in your head?" Tony laughed, because he hadn't done that in a while and he really needed to.
McGee put down the paper tiger and the next thing Tony knew he was on his back because McGee jumped him.
"Hey! Come on; it was a joke!"
"Was it? See, I haven't had much sleep lately 'cause I was helping this friend, so maybe I'm a little slow to get the joke!"
Tony squirmed and tried to break the hold, wishing that McGee remembered less from his high school wrestling days. It wasn't like Tony hadn't tried wrestling, because he had tried every sport. He just preferred running games. Still, it shouldn't be that tough. He shoved up hard, loosening McGee's hold and lifting himself up off the floor. "Got you now!"
"You big dumb ones always fall for that!" Tim said, and Tony found himself landing hard on his belly with his right arm jammed up between his shoulder blades. He tried lifting himself off the floor, keeping his shoulders up because that's what you did if you were trying to win a match.
"What the hell are you two doing?"
They both froze and looked toward the bedroom door. There was Gibbs without so much as a toe across the threshold.
"We're-" McGee ran out of words.
"What he's trying to say is that we were stripping the wallpaper. Perhaps our methods are a bit unorthodox," Tony said. McGee hadn't let him up, so Tony just smiled from floor level.
"Uh-huh," Gibbs said and walked away.
"Would you?" Tony yanked his arm and shifted his hips. McGee finally let go.
"He didn't yell," McGee said in amazement.
"Yeah, it's kind of creepy," Tony agreed. It didn't take a rocket scientist or a therapist to figure out that Gibbs' attitude toward the room was unhealthy. Tony just hoped that Ducky was right and removing the wallpaper would help instead of making things worse.
Tony took a look at McGee and noticed that he was pale and had bags under his eyes. "You look like shit, McGee."
"Gee, I wonder why? Could it be that I spent a couple of nights watching a friend turn into a werewolf and then another couple of nights chasing down a murderer? Do you think I'd do this for Reynolds in accounting?" McGee asked and then screwed his face up in a frown. "Okay, if he really needed it, I probably would, but it wouldn't be because I really liked him."
Everyone had been telling Tony that they were tired, that they were all tired. Maybe he could focus on that.
"Tim, go to sleep," Tony said and grabbed McGee's shoulder, feeling guilty, but happy at the same time, because Tim admitted that they were BFF, in a completely punch you in the arm manly kind of way.
"I could sleep." Tim nodded. "But first I have to tell you about the wallpaper."
"You helped me more than I deserve." For a change, Tony actually meant that, because how many people would have done what his team did for him?
"Yes, I can go along with that, but let me show you for the sake of self-preservation. Gibbs knows I'm part of this operation now."
"True." Tony nodded
"Okay let's say that your head is the wall."
"Okay..." Tony said tentatively.
"It's gypsum board, aka sheet rock. So your head is full of rocks."
"Should have seen that one coming."
"Your rocks are being protected by your skin, keeping them all inside. That's the way the sheet rock is - a layer of rock sandwiched between layers of easily damaged paper."
"Ah." Tony nodded. "I've seen holes in walls before, that description actually made sense. Come to think of it, I've made holes in walls before - not intentionally…most of the time. But what about the chicken wire?"
"That's plaster, whole other topic. Now the sheet rock in this room was hopefully painted or primed at some point, which means that we have a shot of the wallpaper coming off easily without damaging the sheet rock." Tim said. "Maybe we should ask Gibbs about that?"
Tony felt his eyes open wide. It took a second for Tim's to do the same.
"Moving on," Tony said. "This sounds like a job for professionals."
"When I was a kid and my mom wanted to get rid of the 1930s era wallpaper in our kitchen. She called in the professions and then she sent them away when she found out that the professionals charge by the hour, because removing wallpaper is always a crap shoot," Tim said.
"So would you say that this crap shoot has better odds than an Indian casino?"
"You better hope it does," Tim said. "So let's review. Your head is full of rocks-"
"Getting old, McGee"
"And it's covered by a protective skin that we don't want to damage. The wallpaper has two parts to it." Tim looked around, grabbed a sheet of paper towel off a roll, and put it on Tony's head.
"You're making all of this up. Is paper towel actually-"
Tim snatched up the wallpaper removal pamphlet, flipped a few pages and then showed Tony a picture of a guy with a square of paper on his head. "That's the paper layer that you can't see. It's between the wall and the Raspberry Rumtarts, which we will represent with your hat."
Tony more or less felt like an idiot the moment that McGee put the paper towel on his head, but felt doubly so with the hat on top of it. "Is there a reason that Abby didn't just hand me the instructions?"
"Now basically to get rid of the wallpaper, we have to wet down the paper towel layer, but if it rained on you, the hat would keep it dry. Following so far?"
"I'll say yes, if only to prevent you from putting anything else on my head."
Tim picked up the paper tiger. "So you run this over the Raspberry Rumtarts represented by your hat-"
"To make holes in the hat." Tony felt the light bulb go off. "So the paper towel can get wet!"
"Except, don't rub it so hard that you poke holes in your head." Tim put the tool in Tony's hand.
"I can do that," Tony said.
"Good, I'm going to sleep."
*
Tony sprayed the stubborn piece of paper and then counted to ten and then ten again. He lifted the scrapper and counted to ten a third time. Spraying the walls was fun. Waiting for the water to soak in was - well, waiting wasn't his strong suit.
"Are you two ever going to bed?"
Tony turned as the door swung open and Gibbs just stood there, looking at the blank walls and the floor covered with wallpaper scraps. It had come off in large pieces for the most part. Tony was finishing the last section of wall that had some stubborn pieces.
"I kind of got into it," Tony said. "This is the last of it, but I still have more prep work to do. Abby's pamphlet says I have to wash the walls and roll on an industrial primer, to stop the old glue from bleeding through."
Gibbs had bent down and picked up a piece of the paper. Tony's feet crunched through the mess. There was a line of pinpricks from the paper tiger across the Rumtarts that Gibbs was holding. "I didn't think too hard about preservation, but I bet I can find a section that's more intact."
When Gibbs didn't answer, Tony felt oppressed by the silence. "Look, Boss, if you're having second thoughts, I bet we can find some vintage rolls of Raspberry Rumtart up on E-Bay."
"I told you to take it down; I'm not changing my mind. It's just been a long time since I've seen this room empty. Gibbs let the paper slip from his fingers back onto the floor. "Do me a favor and finish this tomorrow. Go get some sleep. It looks like McGee abandoned you."
"Oh, he's still here," Tony said. He took a few steps into the room, frowned, sniffed and corrected course. In another step he reached a large pile of paper that moved when he started taking off the top layer.
"I'm awake," Tim moaned, without opening his eyes.
"DiNozzo, get him in a bed or on the couch or something," Gibbs said.
"He looks kind of comfy-"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs said and headed toward his own room.
"Come on, big guy, time to put you to bed."
"You mean I can sleep?"
Tony took Tim's hand and gave a tug, hoping to get him moving. "Uh-huh and the Boss says you can do it someplace soft and with a blanket."
Tim lumbered up from the floor. "That sounds like a good idea."
McGee was probably fine on his own, but Tony led him down the hall, pulling off bits of paper from his clothing as they walked. Tim went into the small, spare room and sat on the edge of the bed.
"You're letting me have the bed?"
The room was still full of Abby's and Cassie's scents. It wouldn't have been bad to sleep there, but somehow Tony preferred the openness of the sparse living room. "Yeah, all yours. You earned it by showing me what to do about the wallpaper."
"Sorry I fell asleep. I'll help you pull the rest down tomorrow."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Sure."
Just as Tim's head was going down, Tony said, "Wait!"
"Wait? Wait what? Are you going to be a pain in the ass and change your mind about the couch?"
Tony stepped up and reached behind McGee and grabbed the pillow McGee was going to put his head on and the other one too.
"Why'd you do that?" Tim groused.
"I need a pillow!"
"Why'd you take both?"
Tony tossed a pillow at Tim's head and stepped out of the room, closing the door on any further argument behind him. Gibbs was down the hall, standing in the doorway to his room in nothing but his skivvies. Gibbs was hot for a guy his age, and Tony just wished he could do something about it.
"I already separated us, Boss. We'll be quiet from now on."
Gibbs turned his head and let his neck crack. Then he just shut his door.
Tony took the feeling of his cheap thrill with him as he went down the stairs. The thrill was accompanied by a sense of satisfaction in having accomplished anything with the wallpaper. He sniffed the air and smelled Cassie in the pillow. He tossed it on the coffee table and pulled the Gibbs-scented pillow from his duffle bag. With a smile, Tony went to sleep, knowing that McGee would eventually thank him.
***Friday Oct 9 - early evening
-Waning Gibbous with 69% of the Moon's visible disk illuminated***
Tony was pushing a cart down the paint aisle of one of the big box home improvement stores, while Gibbs picked up various tools and either rejected them or dropped them in the cart.
Strangely, this felt like the most normal part of his day. He had started the morning with McGee ranting at him for taking the pillow when he already had one. Then he had taken off to get ready for work. Once they were both at the Navy Yard, it was hard to tell if McGee was still mad. For the rest of the day, McGee was on the phone or getting nabbed by Cynthia, the Director's assistant, to make travel plans.
Anytime Ducky tried to talk to Tony, he had a needle in his hand. Abby handed him a donut and then sent him out of the lab, because she was busy with body parts. Cassie had been in and out of the office, getting ready for her flight to the Reagan. And Gibbs, of course, said as much as Gibbs ever says, thus completing Tony's sense of abandonment.
At least in the home improvement store, Gibbs was giving him some grunts. Tony picked up two different paint rollers and wondered why one cost a dollar more. He was inclined toward the cheaper one, but then remembered whose house he was painting. "Would the fluffier paint roller do a better job?" Tony asked.
Gibbs looked over his shoulder at him.
"I'm just asking, Boss."
"The ones with thicker nap -"
"Nap," Tony repeated.
"Nap. They pick up more paint and are only good if your walls are bumpy and uneven, like those popcorn ceilings. Otherwise, they just waste your paint. The walls are still smooth, right?"
"They are! I only got carried away with the paper tiger in a couple of places and the pinpricks don't look that bad, I think."
"The paint will probably fill them in, but I've got some spackle if we need it. What kind of primer did Abby say we needed?"
Tony pulled the wallpaper removal pamphlet out of his pocket. "She recommends a stain-blocking primer that forms an epoxy layer."
Gibbs lifted an eyebrow.
"She also says that I should ask the guy at the paint counter, unless he's sixteen years old and pimply," Tony said.
Gibbs did the asking and soon they had what seemed to be a fairly pricey can of primer in the basket. They also had a special wash for the walls, along with an assortment of painting paraphernalia.
"What color?" Gibbs asked, as they stopped in front of gigantic display of paint chips.
"I get to pick?" Tony asked.
"History has taught me to be tolerant of the decorating choices of the resident of that room."
Tony was surprised that Gibbs even put out a vague reference to his daughter after the way he'd been acting toward the room. However, he was pleased to be a part of that and also pleased that the walls didn't have to be white. He had been used to apartment-white for most of his adult life. Life as a child had involved various schools of design, most of which he didn't care for. Sure Louis XV had its points, but when Tony thought about what he really liked, it looked more like the English hunting lodge that his Uncle had owned.
"Thanks, Boss. Don't worry; I won't pick anything weird. You know how you said that we could replace the carpet in there? Did you have a color in mind for that, because they should coordinate a little, like how most people's ties go with their shirts-"
The look on Gibbs face was enough to highlight the error in Tony's reasoning. "Not that I'm saying anything about your ties." Tony coughed. If he was going to live with Gibbs he was going to have to learn to compromise on the austere side and sneak the style in.
"There's a real floor under that rug."
"Are there fake floors?" Tony frowned
"There are subfloors."
Tony decided not to ask.
"The whole house has hardwood floors except the bathrooms and kitchen. It's been years since I've seen it, but I remember the floor in that room needed a board or two replaced. The carpet got installed when I was deployed." Gibbs shook his head, obviously not pleased with the carpet decision. "We'll rent a floor sander."
Floor sander, Tony mouthed, but didn't say anything. He was beginning to regret bringing up the carpet.
"We should restore all the floors in the upstairs," Gibbs said, working his way over to the section with the wood stains.
We, Tony mouthed, followed by, All.
Gibbs picked through the samples of the stain colors. "This is close to the color of the trim throughout the house. The floors could be the same color."
"It's-" Tony stopped himself before he got into more trouble. The man had no grasp of color, but it was his house.
"Out with it, DiNozzo."
"It's too dark. Here, the floors downstairs are this color." Tony picked out another one of the samples. "But honestly, they're a little on the dark side too. I think with the trim color, something like this would be better."
"Humph," Gibbs said. "That was probably the original color downstairs. Wood stain tends to darken over time. The one you picked out, we'll do that upstairs and then maybe down the road we'll redo the downstairs."
There was that we again, but Tony wasn't about to question it and wreck the apparent good mood that Gibbs had fallen into as soon as they had started talking about wood. Really, it took another kind of wood entirely for Tony to get excited.
"All right, DiNozzo, I need some hardware. It'll probably take me thirty seconds to pick it out, but ten minutes to find the aisle it's in. You have until I get back to pick out the paint color." Gibbs walked off.
Gibbs didn't come back for about twenty minutes, but that was fine, because it gave Tony time to get overwhelmed by the choices. He finally picked one and had two gallons mixed up, like Abby said in the pamphlet.
"We can pick up the floor sander at the far entrance," Gibbs said, taking a sip of coffee.
"Great," Tony said, as he wondered how Gibbs had managed to find coffee in a home improvement store. "I've never spent a Friday night like this." And he really was hoping that he wouldn't again, ever. "Boss, I'm thinking about the timeline. I've got to get the room finished tomorrow so that I can move my stuff on Sunday."
"That ain't gonna happen," Gibbs said.
"Boss! I-" Tony took a breath. "I need to be out of the old place by the fifteenth. I could try and take day off next week, but - crap, McGee's going to be traveling the country. Ducky will only talk to me if he's taking blood from my body. Cassie is off learning the decks of a carrier that I already know. And Abby, well Abby's been bowling with the nuns, but I'm pretty sure she's avoiding me."
Tony ran out of words.
"Are you done?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Gibbs gave him a head slap. "You're part of team, don't forget it. Did you get the paint?"
Tony pointed at the cans and held up a color swatch. "It's this green. Wait! I know it's on the dark side, but the windows in that room really let in a lot of light, so I think-"
"Just put it in the cart."
*
When they came through the front door, Gibbs leading the way, there was noise coming from upstairs and smells.
"Someone's here – strike that, someones," Tony said. "And they brought…dinner?"
Gibbs looked over his shoulder. "Should I get out my weapon?"
"Well, you don't lock the door, Boss, so it could be anyone. You don't have any enemies-" Tony nearly tripped over his tongue. "Strike that."
"If it was someone we knew, you should be on top of that, right?"
This wasn't fair; Gibbs was implying that he was going to have to focus in his spare time. Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "There's some kind of beef in the kitchen with peppers and oranges." He pointed in the opposite direction of the stairs and said. "Cassie?"
"Who's upstairs?"
Tony frowned. "Can't quite tell. There are traces of McGee and Abby in here, but the food is kind of getting in the way. Ducky is there." Tony opened his eyes and saw that he was pointing at Ducky, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.
"Impressive," Ducky said.
"Sort of," Gibbs said, as he put down the items from the home improvement store.
Tony glared at his back and walked toward the Cassie smell. "This is Cassie's backpack," he said emphatically and then frowned. "Why is Cassie here? She's got a 3am flight."
"You don't sound so sure," Gibbs said.
"I-" Tony remembered that he was annoyed with Gibbs. "That's Ducky, and Ducky is making?"
"Beef enchiladas. You did smell beef and peppers."
"And the oranges?" Tony prompted.
"Well, it is Friday night and I thought that some blood orange margaritas might be in order," Ducky said.
Tony felt victorious and then confused. What was everyone doing here?
"Two days ago you could smell a chemical that was two steps removed from the can," Gibbs said.
"I -" Tony frowned as he thought about it. "I did."
Ducky lifted his chin. "Ah, you think that Tony's sense of smell is waning with the other symptoms that come at the moon."
"Maybe," Gibbs said.
"I'll speak with Timothy, and we'll devise some scent testing to conduct as the month progresses," Ducky said.
"Tests?" Tony rolled his head back in mental pain.
"It's the path to the cure," Ducky said as he retreated into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. "Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes.
"Make it twenty," Gibbs said and then turned to Tony. "Come on."
Tony followed him up the stairs. The sounds gave away the people before they made it up the steps. The partygoerswere apparently in his room - Abby, McGee and Cassie. They were inside, dressed in painting clothes applying painter's tape to all the surfaces.
For a second, Tony panicked when he saw the neat line of trash bags in the middle of the room but then relaxed. That morning, he had woken up early enough to start bagging the wallpaper mess, but his real goal was to find some nicer looking pieces. There was no plan for those sheets, but based on the way Gibbs had been acting, Tony thought he should save something. It was a good thing he had searched. Tony hoped that they didn't get to the pieces that he had stashed in the closet.
Gibbs poked him in the back and Tony remembered to focus. "You're all here." Then all the details really connected. "You're helping me paint!"
"Tony! Gibbs!" Abby came up and hugged them both, taking bags and paint cans from them. "Did you get the wall wash? We should do that now, so it will dry while we eat dinner. Then we can - Prime!" Abby spun with the can in her hand. "Excellent choice, this should block and wallpaper glue from bleeding through the new paint."
Gibbs said. "We're expanding the work scope. The carpet is coming out now so that we can sand the floor and refinish it. McGee, do you know where to find the duct tape and the shop-vac down in the basement?"
"Yeah, because we're going to need that," Tony said, but not at his usual volume.
"On it, Boss!" McGee grabbed a couple of garbage bags and headed downstairs.
"Hey! Bring the pry bar and some pliers," Gibbs called.
"Floor sanding will be messy, right?" Abby asked.
"Yeah, you could say that," Gibbs said.
Abby ticked off the tasks on her fingers. "So we remove the carpet, sand the floor, wash the walls -"
"And then Tony stays up and primes the walls into the middle of the night, while you and Tim take me to Norfolk for my flight." Cassie said.
"Huh?" Tony mused, trying to keep up.
"Look," Gibbs said. "On Sunday we'll move the big items out of DiNozzo's apartment as planned. We'll put them in the garage temporarily. We need the extra time to run the wiring for the TV up here, anyway."
"Wiring?" Tony said.
Abby patted him on the chest. "Gibbs asked me to route the cable up here."
"Got the stuff, Boss," McGee said as he came back in.
"You're here," Tony said, looking around the room.
"Yeah, the basement isn't that far away," Tim said.
"Okay, let's cut up the carpet. I picked up some fresh mat knives. Let's take it in small sections and roll it up. Wrap it with some tape so we can dump it easily." Gibbs said, handing out the tools.
"Anyone have any bodies they need to dispose of?" Cassie laughed, as she picked up a cutting tool.
Belatedly, Tony snatched up a bag and paint can and helped Tim carry the extra items into the hall. When he tried to step back into the room, he was brought up short.
Abby and Cassie were trading dead body jokes with Tim, but what really stopped him was Gibbs. Gibbs had not only stepped into the room, but was on the far side, cutting into the carpet.
It seemed wrong that some wallpaper could own Gibbs like that. It seemed wrong that any object could do that to Gibbs. Tony didn't know how he was going to do it, but he made a silent vow that he was going to figure out how to stop that.
"You know, I'll be right back," Tony said, pointing toward the hall. "I've got to hit the head."
Tony shut the door and then leaned against the wall. They were all in there acting like this was normal, as if they went to Gibbs' house for home improvement parties all the time. The only group activity they did with any regularity was go to the local bar on a Friday night.
And then there was Gibbs, who never went to the bar with them, acting like it was normal to entertain people in some room other than the basement.
Oh yeah, and then there was Tony, who was cheerfully looking forward to his new place, which was really Gibbs place. And when was the last time he thought of going out, picking someone up and just having a good time?
He slid down the wall.
"Hey, did you fall in?"
Tony turned to say he'd be out in a second, but Gibbs was pushing open the door. He got that sharp look in his eye when he caught someone in some lie or misdirection. Then he stepped inside, pushing the door closed.
"Should I get Ducky?"
It was too small a space for Tony to be trapped with Gibbs' scent, but the part of him that was looking for something to hang onto, was happier for it.
"No, I don't need Ducky, and I'm not trying to slack. I just…This is hard."
Now Tony was feeling caged, but Gibbs was blocking the only exit. So he went on. "I'm not trying to claim that I had this long term plan. Every once in a while I run into some dumb luck and find what I've been looking for."
"You know, that's how I became a cop. At Ohio State, I was blowing off an essay class and was about to be put on academic probation. So I took an extra credit assignment to go to some career seminars and write about them. One was about the exciting possibilities in law enforcement. When my wrecked knee blew any chance of going pro, it was the first thing I thought of and the best thing that could have happened to me. I'm going to lose it all, aren't I?"
"Why do you think that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he stepped closer, so that Tony was staring at his knees.
"Because I never needed this much help and everyone I know - everyone important that I know is in the next room trying to pick up the pieces of my life!"
"You make it sound like a bad thing."
"I don't know. Is it?"
"Hey!"
Tony looked up and Gibbs' eyes were just boring into him.
"I never thought that you were the one that I was going to have to explain the word team too. It's one of the reasons I hired you."
Now Tony was uncomfortably warm, not from Gibbs proximity but because of the over praise which was so rare coming from him. But what he wouldn't give for Gibbs to list all those reasons for hiring him.
"I'm going to say it in small words because it's obvious that your brain is still clogged with some of that fur from the past week. I never had to tell you what a team was or how a team worked. You may not have known my playbook when we met, but you picked it up and memorized it from cover to cover."
Gibbs pointed toward the door and ultimately their team. "I count on you to teach the rest of them, not only the plays, but how to watch each other's backs."
Crap, Tony knew that. It wasn't like Gibbs had ever told him that, which he admitted might have been helpful, but he knew all that. "Boss, I haven't been myself, but I can do this - I've been trying to do this!"
"You have been doing it, DiNozzo. The part you're not getting is now they're doing it too. You're the one playing hurt and they're coming in from all sides to make sure the work gets done, and you don't fall, while you figure it out."
Tony could feel all the tension go out of his body at once, like it was the first time in a week that he relaxed. He still wasn't comfortable being the one that needed all the extra help, but maybe he could stop fighting it so much.
Gibbs nodded at him, like he could see his words getting through. "Tony, give them the honor of being your teammates."
Gibbs got up, flushed the toilet and headed out the door. "Don't forget to wash your hands."
Tony got up and splashed some water on his face. He looked in the mirror, making sure that he had his act together. He smiled because he was looking the part. Now he just had to sell it to himself.
To Be Continued....
Title: Ligers and Tigons and Tony, Oh My (9b/?)
Author:
justhumanWritten for:
Prompt: Tony/Gibbs - Supernatural (the genre, not the show) - a series of strange killings in DC leave our favorite NCIS team puzzled, and soon it is revealed that there is something more nefarious behind it all. First Time fic. Rating between R or NC-17, whichever is best for the fic.
Archive: Please ask
Genre: teamfic, adventure, romance
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo, mentions of canon pairings and maybe a surprise
Rating: NC-17 overall, PG this section
Disclaimer: CBS
Word Count: 16,956 this part
Summary: While working a case, Tony runs into a problem with potentially deadly consequences. Now it's up to the team to do what they do best and investigate until they find a solution.
A/N: Many thanks to
LJ/DW - Part 1-Harvest Moon
LJ/DW - Part 2 -After the Harvest Moon
LJ/DW - Part 3 - Hunter's Moon
LJ/DW - Part 4 - Hunter's Dawn
LJ/DW - Part 5 - Drag Hunt
LJ/DW Part 6a - Hunter's Bloodhound
LJ/DW Part 6b - Hunter's Bloodhound
LJ/DW Part 7 - Hunter's Lead
LJ/DW Part 8 - Making Game
LJ/DW Part 9a - Waning Hunter's Moon
Part 9 - Waning Hunter's Moon
"Abby!" Tony said as he came into the lab near the end of the day.
"Tony," Abby said with bounce. Technically it wasn't really a bounce, but more of slight bend of the knee. Tony was sure she went down a little, but maybe didn't come back up all the way.
"You're less than your lively self. I should have brought you a Caff-Pow, but Gibbs usually brings you the Caff-Pow and, as you may have noticed, Gibbs can be territorial," Tony said.
Abby gave him a sidelong glance. "This is a revelation to you?"
"No, I've seen Gibbs do the territorial thing before," He tried to make his tone playful and then he couldn't take it anymore. "Last night in the basement-"
"Wait? Why did you go to Gibbs' house last night? You were there five nights in a row with the moon and the confirmation nights before and after."
"Yeah, but I needed to clean up the cage, and there was a playoff game, but we went back to my place for the game. Also, I'll have to go back to his house this week because of the whole wallpaper thing," Tony said in a leading, but charming way.
"I think that you should consider that there was a significant lack of sleep for most of us over the previous week," Abby said.
"Yeah, I -" Tony ran his hand up the back of his hair and then brushed it down again. "Yeah, I didn't actually feel that except for the night after the moon. Tony perked up again. "But speaking about wallpaper removal, I've got a great plan. We'll bring my laptop, and I'll pop in An American Werewolf in London - to watch while we work."
"Tony-"
"I know you've seen it at least once, and I've seen it about a dozen times. But that's the beauty of it!"
"Tony-"
"It's a classic, so if we miss a bit here and there, it'll be okay. And! We've never seen it with werewolf eyes-"
Abby grabbed Tony by the shoulders. "A lack of sleep because we were either solving a murder or watching a friend turn into a mythical beast!"
"The case - I helped! I found-"
Abby put her hand gently on his chest. "Not calling you a slacker! I'm pretty much saying that we had a rough week. Tony, I'm going bowling tonight."
Tony put the brakes on his mouth. He would never dream of getting in the way of Abby's bowling night. "Oh! Well, I couldn't ask you to leave the nuns high and dry," Tony said and then added, "Could I? I mean I wouldn't normally ask, but I've got to be out of my apartment by the fifteenth, which kind of means that I should move this coming weekend, which kind of means I've only got a couple of nights..."
Abby shook her head.
Tony figured it was time to stop acting desperate. "I never stood a chance against the nuns, did I?"
"But I thought of you!" She leaned down and opened a desk drawer and held a red and black item high in the air, like a trophy.
"What is this mysterious device?"
"Ah, grasshopper, the answer you seek, is with McGee."
With McGee and not Abby. Tony took the mystery item and tried to hide the pain that was developing in the pit of his stomach, because it wasn't a bowling night.
***Thursday Evening***
"Abby hates me." Tony slid down a Rumtart-ed wall.
Tim was lying in the middle of the floor with his eyes closed. "She does not hate you. You guys are just going through a rough patch."
"A rough patch?" Tony laughed, letting out all the shittiness that he was feeling inside. "Rough patch! McOptimist, she smells like a donut to me! I threw pieces of goat at her to lure her into my den, and she lied about bowling with nuns! Bowling night is Tuesday night - everyone knows that! I mean, it's hard enough to believe that Abby lied, but to lie about nuns! That's got to be some bad Catholic karma."
"Karma is actually a concept from Hinduism."
"Whatever, McGee. You're missing the point."
"You know that Abby and the nuns are in the championship, right?"
Tony opened his mouth and then shut it. "Championship? I don't remember Abby telling me about that. Abby would have told me about that!"
"Maybe she told you when you were … furry. I don't know; it's been busy. Anyway, they're bowling on different nights because of the elimination rounds."
"Oh," Tony said, momentarily thrown off by the facts. "Okay, forget about the part about lying about nuns. Let's stick with the part that I was trying to lure her into the cage to eat her. Maybe. I don't know. It doesn't seem like something I'd want to do."
"Tony-"
Tony wove his fingers together and rested the back of his head in his hands. "It's like the Type-1 werewolf movies."
"Type what?"
"I've classed werewolf movies based on their basic motifs. Type-1 is the classic a la Lon Chaney and The Wolfman, 1941, not to be confused with 1915, 1924, 1966, 1999 or 2010.
"That's six movies with the same name."
"There are some variations in the title. Some went with wolfman as one word and others listed it as two. The thing is the 1941 classic is Type-1. Guy gets bit by a werewolf and changes at the full moons."
"So you're a Type 1-"
"No. Type 1 has a curse component involved, so there are other supernatural phenomena clouding things."
Tim opened one eye, thinking about it. "Oh, like seeing the ghosts in American Werewolf in London?"
"Yeah, except that American Werewolf is Type-1a," Tony said. "Don't get me wrong, the werewolf being haunted by dead victims is Type-1 all the way; however, there is an important distinction."
Tim snapped his fingers. "Transformation into full wolf form verses a guy in make-up. A wolf verses wolfman."
"Exactly! The thing I'm focusing on in the Type-1 is the part that when in human form, the werewolf sees the mark of the wolf on the next victim. Usually it's an upside down pentagram." Tony said.
"Abby isn't marked with a pentagram," Tim said with some authority in his voice.
"Yeah? When was the last time you checked McLetch?"
"Well, you, you know it's been a while." Tim turned his head to the side and opened his eyes. Then he pointed a finger at Tony as he opened his mouth. "But Abby has strong feelings about co-opting other religious motifs for her tattoos, so there shouldn't be a pentagram."
"You miss checking." It was a statement not a question, and Tony could see that he was right by the look on Tim's face.
"Not the topic of conversation." Tim looked up at the ceiling and let his arms flop to the floor. So if you're not a Type-1 werewolf, then Abby isn't marked with a Type-1 curse. You don't do the full wolf transformation, so not a Type 1a. What kind of werewolf are you?"
"Type-2 until proven otherwise. The Type-2 werewolf's change has no curse; it's been caused by science or a natural event, implying that there is a cure."
"What do you mean until proven otherwise?"
"If we don't find a cure than I might as well treat it as Type-1 and start visiting Voodoo witch doctors."
Tim sat up and looked directly at Tony. "We're going to find a cure."
There was something emphatic about the way McGee said it that gave Tony a piece of hope that he had been grasping for. He nodded.
"So, I'm assuming that Type-2a is full wolf transformations caused by science. What about the werewolves in Underworld and Underworld Evolutions?" Tim asked.
"Type-3. Clan and pack werewolves from a mystical source. This is opposed to Type-3a, which is clan and pack werewolves that arose from evolutionary means, like Blood and Chocolate. Both of these can typically change at will, making them different from the first two categories. The other details are kind of a mix-and-match." Tony asked, "You didn't spot this stuff during your folklore research?"
"I've been researching werewolf mythology, things like translated medieval texts, as opposed to whatever low budget horror that Hollywood is putting out," Tim said.
Tony blinked. "So you haven't watched any werewolf movies since this started? I mean I haven't either, but I think I've had good reason to avoid them. It's part of your job."
"No! I needed something that-"
"That's got some basis in fact?" Tony snarked.
"That hasn't been re-derived a couple of hundred times. For instance, mythology scholars can pinpoint the first time they found stories with silver used in them. They came into vogue when guns were being used regularly as weapons, thus silver bullets. The early werewolf tales didn't contain silver at all."
Tony shrugged, "I have a brand new allergy to silver."
McGee's face squeezed up into a great big frown. "Well, that's true…"
"Ah-ha!" Tony said. "Mythology is not the be all and end all of research. We should watch the werewolf movies and see if anything pings."
"Which werewolf movies?"
"All of them," Tony said.
"Tony, there are a lot of werewolf movies, with trope after trope repeated. I don't know how much I’m going to get out of them."
"I'll get something out of them. Even if it's only you telling me that I'm not like them, or some of them anyway," Tony said.
"I do have all the video of you in the cage," McGee said.
"Tim-"
"Okay, we'll watch some werewolf movies, but not tonight. Sometime when I'm really awake."
"Deal! We'll start watching once we move my big screen over."
"Sounds like a plan - wait! How did this turn into me helping you move?"
"Remember that conversation you had with my landlord about visiting dogs?"
McGee cringed and nodded. "Fine, I'll help you move."
"How do we get started?" Tony asked, getting up.
"You put things in boxes and then we lift heavy things."
"The walls, McGee!" Tony shook his hands at the Rumtarts.
"Oh. Did I mention I was tired?" Tim asked, as he got up and pulled some neatly bound notes from his backpack. The cover of the pamphlet had a drawing of a guy with a sheet of wallpaper draped over his head. "See, I told you Abby still liked you."
"How can you tell it's me?" Tony asked.
Tim moved his fingers, revealing the title - Wallpaper Removal for Tonys. "Look she even put your monogram on the shirt of the guy on the cover.
Tony read the initials and said, "Anthony D. DiNozzo." Tony didn't like the way that Tim was nodding his head and smiling, but he decided to let it go.
McGee opened the pamphlet. "We're going to need the paper tiger."
"Tiger? McGee, see this face, this is the face of me not understanding."
"It is quite the face," McGee said, and Tony thought that he could hear some condescension in his tone. "Paper tiger. It's the red wheel-y thing. Abby said something about giving you one."
"Red wheel-y thing." Tony got a vague flash and then said it again with more confidence. "Red wheel-y thing! Why didn't you just say that?"
"I was saying that, but I was just using its name."
Tony went to his backpack and pulled out the mystery device that Abby had handed him in the lab. He spun the little black wheels. "You know, I played with one of these once."
"Then how come you need me to show you how to remove wallpaper?"
"Well, not one of these these. It was something like it, like little wheels on a stick." Tony snapped his fingers as he recalled more fully. "Paramedics used those wheels on a stick."
"Ah, yes. They usually roll it over a foot to see if they have a reaction or if the patient is paralyzed."
"I got a reaction," Tony said. "Sarah. Yeah, she didn't roll it over my foot, but I guarantee you that I had quite the reaction-"
"Spare me, just-
"Or was it Rebecca. Rebecca, Sarah, Rebecca- it was something biblical."
"Something biblical is about to happen here," McGee said.
"Maybe it was Ruth?" Tony mused. Then McGee snatched the red wheel-y thing from his hand.
"Let me summarize the pamphlet. You use it like this. Just take it and move it in circles over the wallpaper, but you have to be careful not to press too hard. Wallpaper is made of two layers of paper. The top layer is vinyl and the layer underneath is a paper. We poke the holes through the vinyl and then spray it with water. The water goes through the holes and soaks into the paper underneath. Then almost like magic, but more like science -"
Tony had picked up the sprayer, momentarily aimed at the wall and then hosed down Tim's face.
"Oh, McGee! Do you think that will loosen up all those facts stuck in your head?" Tony laughed, because he hadn't done that in a while and he really needed to.
McGee put down the paper tiger and the next thing Tony knew he was on his back because McGee jumped him.
"Hey! Come on; it was a joke!"
"Was it? See, I haven't had much sleep lately 'cause I was helping this friend, so maybe I'm a little slow to get the joke!"
Tony squirmed and tried to break the hold, wishing that McGee remembered less from his high school wrestling days. It wasn't like Tony hadn't tried wrestling, because he had tried every sport. He just preferred running games. Still, it shouldn't be that tough. He shoved up hard, loosening McGee's hold and lifting himself up off the floor. "Got you now!"
"You big dumb ones always fall for that!" Tim said, and Tony found himself landing hard on his belly with his right arm jammed up between his shoulder blades. He tried lifting himself off the floor, keeping his shoulders up because that's what you did if you were trying to win a match.
"What the hell are you two doing?"
They both froze and looked toward the bedroom door. There was Gibbs without so much as a toe across the threshold.
"We're-" McGee ran out of words.
"What he's trying to say is that we were stripping the wallpaper. Perhaps our methods are a bit unorthodox," Tony said. McGee hadn't let him up, so Tony just smiled from floor level.
"Uh-huh," Gibbs said and walked away.
"Would you?" Tony yanked his arm and shifted his hips. McGee finally let go.
"He didn't yell," McGee said in amazement.
"Yeah, it's kind of creepy," Tony agreed. It didn't take a rocket scientist or a therapist to figure out that Gibbs' attitude toward the room was unhealthy. Tony just hoped that Ducky was right and removing the wallpaper would help instead of making things worse.
Tony took a look at McGee and noticed that he was pale and had bags under his eyes. "You look like shit, McGee."
"Gee, I wonder why? Could it be that I spent a couple of nights watching a friend turn into a werewolf and then another couple of nights chasing down a murderer? Do you think I'd do this for Reynolds in accounting?" McGee asked and then screwed his face up in a frown. "Okay, if he really needed it, I probably would, but it wouldn't be because I really liked him."
Everyone had been telling Tony that they were tired, that they were all tired. Maybe he could focus on that.
"Tim, go to sleep," Tony said and grabbed McGee's shoulder, feeling guilty, but happy at the same time, because Tim admitted that they were BFF, in a completely punch you in the arm manly kind of way.
"I could sleep." Tim nodded. "But first I have to tell you about the wallpaper."
"You helped me more than I deserve." For a change, Tony actually meant that, because how many people would have done what his team did for him?
"Yes, I can go along with that, but let me show you for the sake of self-preservation. Gibbs knows I'm part of this operation now."
"True." Tony nodded
"Okay let's say that your head is the wall."
"Okay..." Tony said tentatively.
"It's gypsum board, aka sheet rock. So your head is full of rocks."
"Should have seen that one coming."
"Your rocks are being protected by your skin, keeping them all inside. That's the way the sheet rock is - a layer of rock sandwiched between layers of easily damaged paper."
"Ah." Tony nodded. "I've seen holes in walls before, that description actually made sense. Come to think of it, I've made holes in walls before - not intentionally…most of the time. But what about the chicken wire?"
"That's plaster, whole other topic. Now the sheet rock in this room was hopefully painted or primed at some point, which means that we have a shot of the wallpaper coming off easily without damaging the sheet rock." Tim said. "Maybe we should ask Gibbs about that?"
Tony felt his eyes open wide. It took a second for Tim's to do the same.
"Moving on," Tony said. "This sounds like a job for professionals."
"When I was a kid and my mom wanted to get rid of the 1930s era wallpaper in our kitchen. She called in the professions and then she sent them away when she found out that the professionals charge by the hour, because removing wallpaper is always a crap shoot," Tim said.
"So would you say that this crap shoot has better odds than an Indian casino?"
"You better hope it does," Tim said. "So let's review. Your head is full of rocks-"
"Getting old, McGee"
"And it's covered by a protective skin that we don't want to damage. The wallpaper has two parts to it." Tim looked around, grabbed a sheet of paper towel off a roll, and put it on Tony's head.
"You're making all of this up. Is paper towel actually-"
Tim snatched up the wallpaper removal pamphlet, flipped a few pages and then showed Tony a picture of a guy with a square of paper on his head. "That's the paper layer that you can't see. It's between the wall and the Raspberry Rumtarts, which we will represent with your hat."
Tony more or less felt like an idiot the moment that McGee put the paper towel on his head, but felt doubly so with the hat on top of it. "Is there a reason that Abby didn't just hand me the instructions?"
"Now basically to get rid of the wallpaper, we have to wet down the paper towel layer, but if it rained on you, the hat would keep it dry. Following so far?"
"I'll say yes, if only to prevent you from putting anything else on my head."
Tim picked up the paper tiger. "So you run this over the Raspberry Rumtarts represented by your hat-"
"To make holes in the hat." Tony felt the light bulb go off. "So the paper towel can get wet!"
"Except, don't rub it so hard that you poke holes in your head." Tim put the tool in Tony's hand.
"I can do that," Tony said.
"Good, I'm going to sleep."
*
Tony sprayed the stubborn piece of paper and then counted to ten and then ten again. He lifted the scrapper and counted to ten a third time. Spraying the walls was fun. Waiting for the water to soak in was - well, waiting wasn't his strong suit.
"Are you two ever going to bed?"
Tony turned as the door swung open and Gibbs just stood there, looking at the blank walls and the floor covered with wallpaper scraps. It had come off in large pieces for the most part. Tony was finishing the last section of wall that had some stubborn pieces.
"I kind of got into it," Tony said. "This is the last of it, but I still have more prep work to do. Abby's pamphlet says I have to wash the walls and roll on an industrial primer, to stop the old glue from bleeding through."
Gibbs had bent down and picked up a piece of the paper. Tony's feet crunched through the mess. There was a line of pinpricks from the paper tiger across the Rumtarts that Gibbs was holding. "I didn't think too hard about preservation, but I bet I can find a section that's more intact."
When Gibbs didn't answer, Tony felt oppressed by the silence. "Look, Boss, if you're having second thoughts, I bet we can find some vintage rolls of Raspberry Rumtart up on E-Bay."
"I told you to take it down; I'm not changing my mind. It's just been a long time since I've seen this room empty. Gibbs let the paper slip from his fingers back onto the floor. "Do me a favor and finish this tomorrow. Go get some sleep. It looks like McGee abandoned you."
"Oh, he's still here," Tony said. He took a few steps into the room, frowned, sniffed and corrected course. In another step he reached a large pile of paper that moved when he started taking off the top layer.
"I'm awake," Tim moaned, without opening his eyes.
"DiNozzo, get him in a bed or on the couch or something," Gibbs said.
"He looks kind of comfy-"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs said and headed toward his own room.
"Come on, big guy, time to put you to bed."
"You mean I can sleep?"
Tony took Tim's hand and gave a tug, hoping to get him moving. "Uh-huh and the Boss says you can do it someplace soft and with a blanket."
Tim lumbered up from the floor. "That sounds like a good idea."
McGee was probably fine on his own, but Tony led him down the hall, pulling off bits of paper from his clothing as they walked. Tim went into the small, spare room and sat on the edge of the bed.
"You're letting me have the bed?"
The room was still full of Abby's and Cassie's scents. It wouldn't have been bad to sleep there, but somehow Tony preferred the openness of the sparse living room. "Yeah, all yours. You earned it by showing me what to do about the wallpaper."
"Sorry I fell asleep. I'll help you pull the rest down tomorrow."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Sure."
Just as Tim's head was going down, Tony said, "Wait!"
"Wait? Wait what? Are you going to be a pain in the ass and change your mind about the couch?"
Tony stepped up and reached behind McGee and grabbed the pillow McGee was going to put his head on and the other one too.
"Why'd you do that?" Tim groused.
"I need a pillow!"
"Why'd you take both?"
Tony tossed a pillow at Tim's head and stepped out of the room, closing the door on any further argument behind him. Gibbs was down the hall, standing in the doorway to his room in nothing but his skivvies. Gibbs was hot for a guy his age, and Tony just wished he could do something about it.
"I already separated us, Boss. We'll be quiet from now on."
Gibbs turned his head and let his neck crack. Then he just shut his door.
Tony took the feeling of his cheap thrill with him as he went down the stairs. The thrill was accompanied by a sense of satisfaction in having accomplished anything with the wallpaper. He sniffed the air and smelled Cassie in the pillow. He tossed it on the coffee table and pulled the Gibbs-scented pillow from his duffle bag. With a smile, Tony went to sleep, knowing that McGee would eventually thank him.
***Friday Oct 9 - early evening
-Waning Gibbous with 69% of the Moon's visible disk illuminated***
Tony was pushing a cart down the paint aisle of one of the big box home improvement stores, while Gibbs picked up various tools and either rejected them or dropped them in the cart.
Strangely, this felt like the most normal part of his day. He had started the morning with McGee ranting at him for taking the pillow when he already had one. Then he had taken off to get ready for work. Once they were both at the Navy Yard, it was hard to tell if McGee was still mad. For the rest of the day, McGee was on the phone or getting nabbed by Cynthia, the Director's assistant, to make travel plans.
Anytime Ducky tried to talk to Tony, he had a needle in his hand. Abby handed him a donut and then sent him out of the lab, because she was busy with body parts. Cassie had been in and out of the office, getting ready for her flight to the Reagan. And Gibbs, of course, said as much as Gibbs ever says, thus completing Tony's sense of abandonment.
At least in the home improvement store, Gibbs was giving him some grunts. Tony picked up two different paint rollers and wondered why one cost a dollar more. He was inclined toward the cheaper one, but then remembered whose house he was painting. "Would the fluffier paint roller do a better job?" Tony asked.
Gibbs looked over his shoulder at him.
"I'm just asking, Boss."
"The ones with thicker nap -"
"Nap," Tony repeated.
"Nap. They pick up more paint and are only good if your walls are bumpy and uneven, like those popcorn ceilings. Otherwise, they just waste your paint. The walls are still smooth, right?"
"They are! I only got carried away with the paper tiger in a couple of places and the pinpricks don't look that bad, I think."
"The paint will probably fill them in, but I've got some spackle if we need it. What kind of primer did Abby say we needed?"
Tony pulled the wallpaper removal pamphlet out of his pocket. "She recommends a stain-blocking primer that forms an epoxy layer."
Gibbs lifted an eyebrow.
"She also says that I should ask the guy at the paint counter, unless he's sixteen years old and pimply," Tony said.
Gibbs did the asking and soon they had what seemed to be a fairly pricey can of primer in the basket. They also had a special wash for the walls, along with an assortment of painting paraphernalia.
"What color?" Gibbs asked, as they stopped in front of gigantic display of paint chips.
"I get to pick?" Tony asked.
"History has taught me to be tolerant of the decorating choices of the resident of that room."
Tony was surprised that Gibbs even put out a vague reference to his daughter after the way he'd been acting toward the room. However, he was pleased to be a part of that and also pleased that the walls didn't have to be white. He had been used to apartment-white for most of his adult life. Life as a child had involved various schools of design, most of which he didn't care for. Sure Louis XV had its points, but when Tony thought about what he really liked, it looked more like the English hunting lodge that his Uncle had owned.
"Thanks, Boss. Don't worry; I won't pick anything weird. You know how you said that we could replace the carpet in there? Did you have a color in mind for that, because they should coordinate a little, like how most people's ties go with their shirts-"
The look on Gibbs face was enough to highlight the error in Tony's reasoning. "Not that I'm saying anything about your ties." Tony coughed. If he was going to live with Gibbs he was going to have to learn to compromise on the austere side and sneak the style in.
"There's a real floor under that rug."
"Are there fake floors?" Tony frowned
"There are subfloors."
Tony decided not to ask.
"The whole house has hardwood floors except the bathrooms and kitchen. It's been years since I've seen it, but I remember the floor in that room needed a board or two replaced. The carpet got installed when I was deployed." Gibbs shook his head, obviously not pleased with the carpet decision. "We'll rent a floor sander."
Floor sander, Tony mouthed, but didn't say anything. He was beginning to regret bringing up the carpet.
"We should restore all the floors in the upstairs," Gibbs said, working his way over to the section with the wood stains.
We, Tony mouthed, followed by, All.
Gibbs picked through the samples of the stain colors. "This is close to the color of the trim throughout the house. The floors could be the same color."
"It's-" Tony stopped himself before he got into more trouble. The man had no grasp of color, but it was his house.
"Out with it, DiNozzo."
"It's too dark. Here, the floors downstairs are this color." Tony picked out another one of the samples. "But honestly, they're a little on the dark side too. I think with the trim color, something like this would be better."
"Humph," Gibbs said. "That was probably the original color downstairs. Wood stain tends to darken over time. The one you picked out, we'll do that upstairs and then maybe down the road we'll redo the downstairs."
There was that we again, but Tony wasn't about to question it and wreck the apparent good mood that Gibbs had fallen into as soon as they had started talking about wood. Really, it took another kind of wood entirely for Tony to get excited.
"All right, DiNozzo, I need some hardware. It'll probably take me thirty seconds to pick it out, but ten minutes to find the aisle it's in. You have until I get back to pick out the paint color." Gibbs walked off.
Gibbs didn't come back for about twenty minutes, but that was fine, because it gave Tony time to get overwhelmed by the choices. He finally picked one and had two gallons mixed up, like Abby said in the pamphlet.
"We can pick up the floor sander at the far entrance," Gibbs said, taking a sip of coffee.
"Great," Tony said, as he wondered how Gibbs had managed to find coffee in a home improvement store. "I've never spent a Friday night like this." And he really was hoping that he wouldn't again, ever. "Boss, I'm thinking about the timeline. I've got to get the room finished tomorrow so that I can move my stuff on Sunday."
"That ain't gonna happen," Gibbs said.
"Boss! I-" Tony took a breath. "I need to be out of the old place by the fifteenth. I could try and take day off next week, but - crap, McGee's going to be traveling the country. Ducky will only talk to me if he's taking blood from my body. Cassie is off learning the decks of a carrier that I already know. And Abby, well Abby's been bowling with the nuns, but I'm pretty sure she's avoiding me."
Tony ran out of words.
"Are you done?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Gibbs gave him a head slap. "You're part of team, don't forget it. Did you get the paint?"
Tony pointed at the cans and held up a color swatch. "It's this green. Wait! I know it's on the dark side, but the windows in that room really let in a lot of light, so I think-"
"Just put it in the cart."
*
When they came through the front door, Gibbs leading the way, there was noise coming from upstairs and smells.
"Someone's here – strike that, someones," Tony said. "And they brought…dinner?"
Gibbs looked over his shoulder. "Should I get out my weapon?"
"Well, you don't lock the door, Boss, so it could be anyone. You don't have any enemies-" Tony nearly tripped over his tongue. "Strike that."
"If it was someone we knew, you should be on top of that, right?"
This wasn't fair; Gibbs was implying that he was going to have to focus in his spare time. Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "There's some kind of beef in the kitchen with peppers and oranges." He pointed in the opposite direction of the stairs and said. "Cassie?"
"Who's upstairs?"
Tony frowned. "Can't quite tell. There are traces of McGee and Abby in here, but the food is kind of getting in the way. Ducky is there." Tony opened his eyes and saw that he was pointing at Ducky, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.
"Impressive," Ducky said.
"Sort of," Gibbs said, as he put down the items from the home improvement store.
Tony glared at his back and walked toward the Cassie smell. "This is Cassie's backpack," he said emphatically and then frowned. "Why is Cassie here? She's got a 3am flight."
"You don't sound so sure," Gibbs said.
"I-" Tony remembered that he was annoyed with Gibbs. "That's Ducky, and Ducky is making?"
"Beef enchiladas. You did smell beef and peppers."
"And the oranges?" Tony prompted.
"Well, it is Friday night and I thought that some blood orange margaritas might be in order," Ducky said.
Tony felt victorious and then confused. What was everyone doing here?
"Two days ago you could smell a chemical that was two steps removed from the can," Gibbs said.
"I -" Tony frowned as he thought about it. "I did."
Ducky lifted his chin. "Ah, you think that Tony's sense of smell is waning with the other symptoms that come at the moon."
"Maybe," Gibbs said.
"I'll speak with Timothy, and we'll devise some scent testing to conduct as the month progresses," Ducky said.
"Tests?" Tony rolled his head back in mental pain.
"It's the path to the cure," Ducky said as he retreated into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. "Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes.
"Make it twenty," Gibbs said and then turned to Tony. "Come on."
Tony followed him up the stairs. The sounds gave away the people before they made it up the steps. The partygoerswere apparently in his room - Abby, McGee and Cassie. They were inside, dressed in painting clothes applying painter's tape to all the surfaces.
For a second, Tony panicked when he saw the neat line of trash bags in the middle of the room but then relaxed. That morning, he had woken up early enough to start bagging the wallpaper mess, but his real goal was to find some nicer looking pieces. There was no plan for those sheets, but based on the way Gibbs had been acting, Tony thought he should save something. It was a good thing he had searched. Tony hoped that they didn't get to the pieces that he had stashed in the closet.
Gibbs poked him in the back and Tony remembered to focus. "You're all here." Then all the details really connected. "You're helping me paint!"
"Tony! Gibbs!" Abby came up and hugged them both, taking bags and paint cans from them. "Did you get the wall wash? We should do that now, so it will dry while we eat dinner. Then we can - Prime!" Abby spun with the can in her hand. "Excellent choice, this should block and wallpaper glue from bleeding through the new paint."
Gibbs said. "We're expanding the work scope. The carpet is coming out now so that we can sand the floor and refinish it. McGee, do you know where to find the duct tape and the shop-vac down in the basement?"
"Yeah, because we're going to need that," Tony said, but not at his usual volume.
"On it, Boss!" McGee grabbed a couple of garbage bags and headed downstairs.
"Hey! Bring the pry bar and some pliers," Gibbs called.
"Floor sanding will be messy, right?" Abby asked.
"Yeah, you could say that," Gibbs said.
Abby ticked off the tasks on her fingers. "So we remove the carpet, sand the floor, wash the walls -"
"And then Tony stays up and primes the walls into the middle of the night, while you and Tim take me to Norfolk for my flight." Cassie said.
"Huh?" Tony mused, trying to keep up.
"Look," Gibbs said. "On Sunday we'll move the big items out of DiNozzo's apartment as planned. We'll put them in the garage temporarily. We need the extra time to run the wiring for the TV up here, anyway."
"Wiring?" Tony said.
Abby patted him on the chest. "Gibbs asked me to route the cable up here."
"Got the stuff, Boss," McGee said as he came back in.
"You're here," Tony said, looking around the room.
"Yeah, the basement isn't that far away," Tim said.
"Okay, let's cut up the carpet. I picked up some fresh mat knives. Let's take it in small sections and roll it up. Wrap it with some tape so we can dump it easily." Gibbs said, handing out the tools.
"Anyone have any bodies they need to dispose of?" Cassie laughed, as she picked up a cutting tool.
Belatedly, Tony snatched up a bag and paint can and helped Tim carry the extra items into the hall. When he tried to step back into the room, he was brought up short.
Abby and Cassie were trading dead body jokes with Tim, but what really stopped him was Gibbs. Gibbs had not only stepped into the room, but was on the far side, cutting into the carpet.
It seemed wrong that some wallpaper could own Gibbs like that. It seemed wrong that any object could do that to Gibbs. Tony didn't know how he was going to do it, but he made a silent vow that he was going to figure out how to stop that.
"You know, I'll be right back," Tony said, pointing toward the hall. "I've got to hit the head."
Tony shut the door and then leaned against the wall. They were all in there acting like this was normal, as if they went to Gibbs' house for home improvement parties all the time. The only group activity they did with any regularity was go to the local bar on a Friday night.
And then there was Gibbs, who never went to the bar with them, acting like it was normal to entertain people in some room other than the basement.
Oh yeah, and then there was Tony, who was cheerfully looking forward to his new place, which was really Gibbs place. And when was the last time he thought of going out, picking someone up and just having a good time?
He slid down the wall.
"Hey, did you fall in?"
Tony turned to say he'd be out in a second, but Gibbs was pushing open the door. He got that sharp look in his eye when he caught someone in some lie or misdirection. Then he stepped inside, pushing the door closed.
"Should I get Ducky?"
It was too small a space for Tony to be trapped with Gibbs' scent, but the part of him that was looking for something to hang onto, was happier for it.
"No, I don't need Ducky, and I'm not trying to slack. I just…This is hard."
Now Tony was feeling caged, but Gibbs was blocking the only exit. So he went on. "I'm not trying to claim that I had this long term plan. Every once in a while I run into some dumb luck and find what I've been looking for."
"You know, that's how I became a cop. At Ohio State, I was blowing off an essay class and was about to be put on academic probation. So I took an extra credit assignment to go to some career seminars and write about them. One was about the exciting possibilities in law enforcement. When my wrecked knee blew any chance of going pro, it was the first thing I thought of and the best thing that could have happened to me. I'm going to lose it all, aren't I?"
"Why do you think that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he stepped closer, so that Tony was staring at his knees.
"Because I never needed this much help and everyone I know - everyone important that I know is in the next room trying to pick up the pieces of my life!"
"You make it sound like a bad thing."
"I don't know. Is it?"
"Hey!"
Tony looked up and Gibbs' eyes were just boring into him.
"I never thought that you were the one that I was going to have to explain the word team too. It's one of the reasons I hired you."
Now Tony was uncomfortably warm, not from Gibbs proximity but because of the over praise which was so rare coming from him. But what he wouldn't give for Gibbs to list all those reasons for hiring him.
"I'm going to say it in small words because it's obvious that your brain is still clogged with some of that fur from the past week. I never had to tell you what a team was or how a team worked. You may not have known my playbook when we met, but you picked it up and memorized it from cover to cover."
Gibbs pointed toward the door and ultimately their team. "I count on you to teach the rest of them, not only the plays, but how to watch each other's backs."
Crap, Tony knew that. It wasn't like Gibbs had ever told him that, which he admitted might have been helpful, but he knew all that. "Boss, I haven't been myself, but I can do this - I've been trying to do this!"
"You have been doing it, DiNozzo. The part you're not getting is now they're doing it too. You're the one playing hurt and they're coming in from all sides to make sure the work gets done, and you don't fall, while you figure it out."
Tony could feel all the tension go out of his body at once, like it was the first time in a week that he relaxed. He still wasn't comfortable being the one that needed all the extra help, but maybe he could stop fighting it so much.
Gibbs nodded at him, like he could see his words getting through. "Tony, give them the honor of being your teammates."
Gibbs got up, flushed the toilet and headed out the door. "Don't forget to wash your hands."
Tony got up and splashed some water on his face. He looked in the mirror, making sure that he had his act together. He smiled because he was looking the part. Now he just had to sell it to himself.
To Be Continued....
no subject
Date: 2011-12-31 04:05 pm (UTC)I adore this fic, I think mostly because (not including the werewolf part, which I delight in) you've represented perfectly Tony's frenetic energy, his need to be a part of something - amplified with the werewolf thing - but so totally in character, it's wonderful!
Thank you so much, I love this and I can't wait for more.
Happy New Year!
xx
no subject
Date: 2012-01-08 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-02 05:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-08 05:42 pm (UTC)But it started off here and here is where I post it first :-)
no subject
Date: 2012-01-06 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-08 05:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-20 11:50 pm (UTC)Has the next chapter started to take shape yet?
no subject
Date: 2012-04-27 02:56 am (UTC)Thanks for asking.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-27 01:10 am (UTC)Just checking in to see if more of the story might have been posted and I missed it.
Hope all is well with you, and will check in again next month.
n_a
no subject
Date: 2012-04-27 03:01 am (UTC)You haven't missed anything. There was a plot snag that I kept pretending wasn't a snag, so I rewrote a scene or three a few times. I think I've got it worked out now. Thanks for checking in
no subject
Date: 2012-07-10 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-04-06 01:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-22 02:27 pm (UTC)