Tony raced into the pricey hotel to see the doorman pointing a weapon at his father.
Hello to you too fancy living... Tony thought sarcastically, Better than I even imagined.
Well... if by 'father' Tony meant the man who fed and clothed him until he was twelve...then yeah. Father? Maybe in the literal sense, but he wasn't Gibbs. Never like Gibbs. And speaking of Gibbs...Tony pulled his sig and trained it on the now nervous target...Gibbs was currently on his way probably breaking more laws than necessary to do so.
No doubt a 15 minute drive would be shortened to around, say 5 minutes at most? Tony almost smiled at the reminder of his boss's insane driving techniques. It made most mew recruits rethink their job of choice. Right now though, Tony was focused on one thing only. Bastard number one holding a gun on bastard number two... His father.
The anger at his father's stupidity and the man holding the gun overrode his worry.
Damn idiot had to try playing James Bond...
Well he never did listen to Tony, why should he start now?
"STOP!" Tony wasn't entirely sure who he was yelling at- the perp, or his idiot father?
Well... his weapon was trained on the perp so...
"NCIS! Drop your weapon!" Tony half shouted, his voice vibrated out in a grating, threatening manner that would usually make most grown men piss their pants. Tony glared menacingly at the gun man over the barrel of his weapon.
Tim tore through the door behind him, weapon ready and drawn, but Tony had always been faster than everyone else on the team even with his damaged lungs. Both agents had taken off as soon as the now dangerous criminal/ doorman had asked DiNozzo Senior to stop. Tim had run at top speed and didn't have a chance to catch up.
Given the circumstances Tony DiNozzo freaking flew.
Ziva David was on the floor pinning the twin to the obviously miffed doorman who appeared to have a split lip. Tony could predict that his father's attempt at playing James Bond had ended abruptly. At least his father had gotten a hit in, right? Those 5 seconds of attempting to act the hero were going to backfire... Badly.
"Come closer and I put a bullet in his head!" The doorman screamed desperately. His father, who was facing him, hands in the air flinched violently, but Tony wasn't looking at him. It was game on now, he was agent Anthony Dominic DiNozzo Junior right now. No one else.
Wow... shortfuse, Tony reasoned.
"Just gimme a reason to shoot you, asshole." Tony said in a dangerously low voice. Tony could sense his father's eyes on him, pleading, awed and definitely scared, but not so much scared of the situation. It almost felt like his father was scared of HIM at the moment. As well he should have been.
Tony didn't meet Senior's eyes. He didn't even blink. Breaking eye contact was not something Tony was happy to do when he was staring down a blood thirsty bastard. Tony poured every ounce of anger and bitterness living in him into his eyes as he glared at the other man with a kind of cold ferocity.
He wanted to kill this man. And Tony let him know it.
Mr. Sunshine was obviously intimidated. Slowly, he lowered his arm to the side and carefully dropped the gun to the table next to him like it was poisonous.
A cold smirk crawled onto Tony's face. He could hear Tim from his left murmur something that sounded like,"He's fucking scary when he gets like that..."
Movement from Ziva out of the corner of Tony's eye.
A nod, maybe?
At hearing the clatter of the gun falling DiNozzo Senior had scuttled away from the danger and was currently staring at his son in obvious fear. He couldn't imagine what his father must be thinking at the moment. Tony marched passed the shocked older man and slammed the gunman into the wall.
The grunt of pain from the man was beyond satisfying.
However, as Tony reached for the cuffs at his belt his father finally seemed to find the courage to grab his arm. Probably NOT his smartest move. From past knowledge of Anthony DiNozzo Senior's touch Tony almost flinched. Almost. He tensed to tear his arm away, but the slight flexing of muscle beneath his father's fingers frightened the man enough for him to practically jump away from his son.
That was just a man in love with his liquor, Tony reminded himself as he allowed the breath he'd been holding to escape his lips. He really did prefer to think that his father cared. He just didn't want to hope. He would think, but he wouldn't hope. He turned to face his father.
"Junior! What the hell are you doing?" Said man shouted at him, face red in both embarrassment and anger.
"What?" Tony blinked.
"Put...Put that...THING away!" Senior demanded, gesturing almost fearfully at at the weapon clutched tightly in Tony's right hand, digging into the apprehended man's back. Tony could feel the engraved 'NCIS' biting into his palm.
Tony sighed exasperatedly and dumped the gun onto the table next to the perp's now useless weapon.
"Happy?"He said sarcastically.
Was that relief in his father's eyes?
He turned to apprehend the subject when hell released itself on them all. The man had somehow managed to twist around in Tony's grip and grab one of the guns on the table, aiming it straigt at Tony's father... Again.
All in about 3 seconds and everything was shot to hell.
Well isn't this beautiful, Tony thought.
The agent pushed the gunman back into the wall hard enough to stun him momentarily and, knowing what was about to happen, threw himself at his father just as the gun spoke...
At close range.
And the author gives you something to be thankful for, applause please? Oh wait, what about that cliffy? Oh well, you'll get over it. (: