Tony DiNozzo was bored. He was in the side waiting room for court in the federal court house. He was due to testify in the trial of INSERT EARLY SEASON THREE VILLAIN and the testimony of the earlier witnesses was running way over. According to what he had been told when he arrived, he should have actually been back at the Navy Yard over an hour before.
Instead, here he was, trapped, so to speak. At least he was allowed to keep his phone. He would turn it off completely when he was called by the bailiff but for now, playing trivia games and matching shapes was keeping him sane. He really didn’t want to be in his head with nothing to occupy him right now.
The last year, since catching the plague, Kate’s murder, Director Shepard’s arrival, and Ziva’s appointment to the team had been stressful. Tony was feeling his jovial mask slipping more and more lately, not that anyone else seemed to pick up on it. The closest was when Gibbs had to talk him down after he nearly beat the Assassin to death when he and Ziva were undercover.
You’d think after knowing he nearly killed the guy who had him tied to a chair and was armed, while still tied to the same chair would make Ziva at least see that he was dangerous in his own right. But she didn’t. She had pigeonholed him before they even met thanks to the shitty dossiers she created for Ari and was blind to anything that would change that first opinion. Odd for a spy assassin working for an elite intelligence agency, but Tony supposed even in Mossad, nepotism was alive and well. And Ziva was the only remaining child of the deputy director of Mossad – soon to be full Director if chatter was true.
Tony laid his head back and stretched. The chairs weren’t the worst he had ever sat in but they weren’t really meant for long periods. But his new phone was keeping him occupied. He had worried that the free chips from Richmond Valentine that the government had jumped on would make things slow and choppy, but Tony had to admit the chips were good. Whatever the angle for the billionaire, it wasn’t shoddy chips. And Tony knew there was an angle. Everybody’s got an angle, a little larceny operating in them. Richmond Valentine was playing some kind of percentage and Tony had no idea what it was.
That was why when McGee actually took off work to get one of the first chips in the store, Tony had waited. His personal phone still didn’t have the new Valentine chip. But for once, the federal government had been amazingly swift on the ball and the red tape had basically disintegrated at Valentine’s magic word – free, forever. They were given the new chips the very day they were released in stores.
So, his work phone was now a V-phone, in a sense, though the phone itself wasn’t manufactured by that company. And with how well it was working and the seeming lack of a second shoe dropping, Tony was considering biting the metaphoric bullet and going to the store this weekend and getting a chip for his personal phone. Assuming they didn’t have a case.
Tony sighed and turned his attention back to his game, fingers manipulating the pieces on the screen when the symbol of the Valentine Corporation appeared on the screen and an odd noise caught Tony’s ear. He cocked his head to the side as he dropped his phone on the floor. He blinked his eyes and began striding towards the door, upholstering his gun, his anger at recent events – petty backbiting, ignored orders, and team dinners that left him out – inspiring a desperate need to let that anger out on the nearest target.