This story is for Hinky Hippo, who shares my affection for this episode, and some of my feelings about what might have been done differently.

As much as I enjoy 'Grace Period' and consider it among my early-seasons favorites, there are things about it that bugged me. I put my spin on a couple of those things. The story is finished, and I plan to update as I complete the final edits.

Warnings/spoilers: Canon recurring character death. Dialogue and spoilers from episode, with some alterations to suit the story. Unbeta'd.

Chapter 1

There was movement in Tony's peripheral vision and in a split second, he realized what it meant. He wasn't the only one who did. Tony leapt into action, feeling something pull at the back of his jacket as he moved. He was a step behind Paula, a step too far and a step too close at the same time.

Too far to get to the trick door first, too far to stop her from charging through to the fate that lay on the other side. Too close not to feel the wall shake. Too close not to feel the rising temperature of the bricks against his face, the heat generated by the blast on the other side. Too close not to be struck by falling plaster, broken bricks, and mortar from the wall and ceiling.

The blast still echoing in his ears and feeling failure in every fiber of his body, Tony slammed a hand against the brick hard. The bright, sharp pain was a fleeting distraction from the dawning horror of what just happened on the other side of that wall. The pain receded, replaced by a crushing sense of loss. His vision blurred as grief rose and crested, tightening his chest and throat. Tony suppressed the desire to scream his denial, let free the anguish looking for its' voice.

They'd been good together and had fun, while it lasted. He'd loved Paula's drive, her spirit and snark, and the way she'd challenged him. At another time and place in their lives, they might have stayed together, taken steps toward a more lasting relationship. Paula was too career driven, always feeling like she had something to prove, and Tony wasn't able to overcome being commitment shy. Once Paula had been promoted to team lead and transferred to The Pentagon office, they were both honest with each other and self-aware enough to recognize the timing wasn't right for them.

The physical relationship ended and they'd parted amicably, affection for one another remaining intact. The chemistry and mutual attraction that brought them together tempered and shifted. It still bubbled and simmered beneath the surface when they spent time hanging out together. Beyond the flirting they both enjoyed, they'd come to understand they were much better suited to be friends rather than lovers. Now, his one-time lover, his friend, was dead.

Tony leaned heavily against the wall, letting it hold him up. At first he was aware of nothing but the brick wall beneath his hand and cheek, a last tenuous connection to what once was. As the rough surface started to cool, he gradually became more cognizant of his surroundings again. The soft voices of the others in the room, sounds of them getting up from the floor now and moving slowly, recovering from the shock of their close call. The hushed voices told him they were all okay. He wasn't so sure about himself.

Tony's vision began to clear and a blurred shape that proved to be Gibbs stood along the wall near him. Gibbs gave him a sidelong glance, and seemingly satisfied he was alright, moved to check on the others. In that moment, he realized the significance of the small tug at his back as he'd leapt toward the trick door...and Paula. Gibbs had tried to hold him back, keep him from helping her. A sudden burst of irrational anger at Gibbs swept over him, and Tony shoved himself away from the wall abruptly, dimly aware of pain coming from the hand and wrist he'd slammed against the wall.

He headed for the door, suddenly needing to be away from both Gibbs and this dark, death tainted room with its blackened brick walls. It was a stark reminder of the first explosion that had taken Paula's team, and would have taken his own if not for a simple quirk of fate that came in the form of an ordinary, run of the mill duty swap.

It could have been us. It should have been.

He ignored the protests and calls drifting after him and quickly shoved the front door open with both hands. His hand and wrist flared with pain again and he figured he must have hurt it when he hit the wall. Just as quickly he discounted the injury and stepped out onto the sidewalk, the bright daylight outside blinding him momentarily.

Tony stood there blinking in the sun, feeling numb and cold in spite of the warm day. He could hear sirens approaching and as his vision adjusted, he could see a growing crowd of gawkers giving him curious looks. They talked and gestured excitedly, ghoulishly. It sickened him. He wondered how they'd react to an up close and personal look at the certain carnage in the shop next door.

Tony turned away from the crowd and walked toward the shop's entrance. Glass shards, pieces of wood, metal, and other debris littered the sidewalk, crunching under his feet. He could see that the blast had blown out all the windows and doors in the front façade. He paused and stared into the dark interior grimly, unable to see more than a few feet inside. His acute sense of smell picked up residual traces of smoke and unknown explosives. He cursed that same sense as other odors wafted out of the destroyed shop…charred flesh and a metallic smell that could only be blood. A lot of it.

His vision tunneled and he zoned, hyper focused on trying to make out something deeper within the shadowed interior. Tony had just gathered the courage to step inside when a dark shape moved in front of him, blocking his line of sight. Tony frowned in confusion and sidestepped the obstruction, only to have it match his movements. The shape spoke but the sound was muffled by a ringing in his ears.

"Tony."

He didn't respond until he felt a warm, gentle pressure on his chest. The touch pulled Tony out of his daze a bit and he focused on the figure blocking his way, a hand resting lightly on the center of his chest.

"Boss?"

"Yeah, Tony. You okay?" Gibbs asked, worried that Tony seemed a bit shocky and out of it.

"I don't know."

Gibbs' concern ramped up a notch at the uncharacteristic honesty. Tony probably didn't even realize he'd let that slip out, judging from the disturbingly vacant expression. Tony was staring past Gibbs' shoulder, still trying to see into the destroyed shop entrance.

"What are you doing over here?" Gibbs asked.

"Going to find Paula."

Gibbs' gut twisted. That sure as hell wasn't happening.

"No."

As difficult as the circumstances were, Gibbs was grateful to see the animation suddenly return to Tony's features and an angry spark igniting in the green eyes.

"Get out of my way, Gibbs," Tony growled with a note of warning.

"You aren't going in there," Gibbs replied with a shake of his head, just as uncompromising.

The voice was resolute and the earlier anger Tony felt toward Gibbs returned. He searched Gibbs' face for signs he was prepared to physically prevent Tony from going in. Gibbs projected calm, and the blue eyes were warm and concerned. Tony's muscles tensed in preparation for a confrontation and the flicker in Gibbs' eyes telegraphed that he'd noticed.

"I said no." Gibbs was implacable.

Huh. Irresistible force meets immovable object, Tony thought a little manically. He supposed he was entitled to that.

Gibbs surprised him by leaning in close, so close he imagined he felt the other man's breath puff against his cheek as he spoke, low so only Tony could hear him. It was the same cheek that minutes before, was pressed against the wall a couple feet away from where Paula died.

Gibbs was determined not to let Tony punish himself by imprinting a memory of what was undoubtedly a very gruesome scene on his brain. If Tony were allowed inside, to see the result of that powerful blast, Gibbs knew it would be all he would ever see every time he thought of Cassidy. He wanted to spare Tony that.

"Ask yourself if Paula would want you to see her that way…if what you'll find in there is what she would want you to remember about her."

Just like that the anger bled away, leaving Tony feeling empty and exhausted. No, Paula wouldn't have wanted that. Distracted and lost in his head now, he relented, allowing Gibbs to turn him away from the shop. An arm circled around his back and guided him to sit on a nearby bench further down the sidewalk. Tony slumped back against the bench and scrubbed his face with his hands, wincing as he did so.

Gibbs kept a grounding hand on one shoulder, noting that Tony was favoring one hand and wrist. He made a mental note to have Ducky give his SFA a quick exam, whether Tony liked it or not.

"What now, Gibbs?"

Tony could have meant any number of things with that question and Gibbs wasn't at all sure if Tony himself even knew what he was asking. He settled on what was probably the most important thing to Tony at this point.

"Ducky's here now," he said, pointing to the ME's truck now parked along the curb a few feet away, where Palmer and Ducky were occupied with unloading a gurney and gathering their equipment. "He'll take care of her, Tony."

"Okay."

Tony was angry about Cassidy's death, and also hurting far more than he was letting on. He might be subdued and cooperative now, but Gibbs had seen traces of volatility lurking just beneath the surface. Sooner or later, once Tony emerged from his current state of shock, they were all going to see it and he wanted to be there when that happened. Gibbs glanced over to see an agency sedan arriving, carrying Shepard, McGee, and another team from HQ. He gritted his teeth, torn between keeping an eye on Tony and carrying out his duty. Duty won out. For now, he thought.

"Tony, I've got to go help McGee and Ziva corral the civilians, and check in with Jenny. There was another angry flash in Tony's eyes at the director's mention, and Gibbs wondered why. "I'll be back in a bit," he said, with a small shake to Tony's shoulder to reinforce his promise. "You'll stay here," Gibbs told him, waiting to be sure Tony was back with it enough to acknowledge the order.

Tony nodded listlessly, and with one last worried glance, Gibbs walked over to intercept Ducky and Palmer. The grim expressions and Palmer's paler than usual face seemed to indicate they'd been informed as to what they'd find inside and who, but he had to make sure.

"You know?"

"Yes, Jethro. We were told about Agent Cassidy," Ducky confirmed somberly.

Gibbs nodded. "One more thing," he said, holding up a hand as they moved to begin their work. "Tony doesn't go in there, is that understood? If he gets off that bench, you call me immediately, I don't care who I'm with, or what I'm doing."

Ducky nodded, casting a concerned look at the slumped figure on the bench while Palmer answered for them both.

"Understood, Agent Gibbs."

AN: Chapter two coming soon...