The Bitter End

Title: Bitter End 03
Author: Daedalus / Tak / Whatever, as long as the clock keeps ticking
Fandom: NCIS
Category: Slash
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo – Allusions to Tony/Jeanne and Gibbs/Mann
Rating: PG for now (will be NC-17 later on)
Genre: Angst (a lot of it) – Action – Character study – First Time
Summary: What could have been a tragedy forces Gibbs and DiNozzo to realize they can’t deny what they long for any longer. But a ghost rises from the past and beats them to the game.
Spoilers: Every season from season 1.
Warnings: Homophobia
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue.
Thanks to Joey, who does an amazing job, for betaing this fic.

It had been a close call. Gibbs knew that all too well. If Tony had not been there for Maddie and him, he would be dead, along with the girl. And it would all be his fault, because he had not put into practice his own rules.

What had he been thinking? If DiNozzo had done what he did, he’d have called him Probie for over a month, tortured him, and then skinned him alive. A rookie mistake, after all he had been through? He knew better than that. He had always longed for a child. Ever since Kelly had been killed. More than anything, he longed for his child, who was long dead. When Maddie had come to him, that day, he had realized that he would do anything to protect her.

Abby was like a daughter to him, but it was different. Abby was Abby. She was the daughter who was alive. Even though she had loving parents and he had not seen her grow up. Kelly was the daughter who was dead – his biological daughter, whose diapers he had changed, for whom he had spent hours on end, all worry, because she had a cold, whom had made her first steps towards him, whose first word had been ‘Daddy’. He did not love Abby any less. But Maddie was the link to that girl who was no more. She had shared her laughter. Her tears. His grief. And she was in danger.

He was only human. It had not been possible for him to protect Kelly with all his might. He would be damned if he failed Maddie as well…


Trapped underwater, his instincts had kicked in, as he struggled to get out. Still, he hoped that his guardian angel would show up somehow and save the girl – the girl. Get them out of the car.

And save the girl.

Instead of just letting go, he struggled, because, somehow, he knew Tony had his six – wherever he was. And that he would never let him down. Tony had his six. All he had to do was to try and stay alive a little longer. Hold on. Help the girl out. Get out. Berate himself for his own foolishness. Hold Tony’s body against his own to reassure himself they were both alive.
And yet, when he saw Tony actually dive to save them, he had frozen.

It had just occurred to him just how freezing and dirty the water was. He had to get out as soon as possible. He had to, and get Tony some dry clothes. Get him into a hospital to check his lungs. His lungs. Check for an infection. Anything. Make him safe. He had stared at him through the windshield, too afraid to break the visual in case Tony would swallow the water and drown.

Because of him.

There was nothing he could have done. But he could not look away. He owed that to him.


He had been frantic when they both realized Tony could not open the door. He had thought that the young man would surface, call for help, breathe a little – something. Instead, his Tony had done something that he had thought entirely impossible. It was inhuman. If he had been feeling rationally at the time, he would have been filled with awe.

And Tony had broken the windshield. Gibbs had felt relieved; Tony would take care of her. All he had to do was get out and get some help and get Tony to get warm. Get get get.

When the windshield had not budged, he had succumbed to an instant of panic. He had tried to break free, to no avail. But it’s okay, he thought. Tony will revive her. Tony will take care of her. Tony won’t come back for a grumpy old man who bosses him around and takes everything for granted and can’t even swallow his damn pride and let him know how much he cares about him.

He had been resolved to his fate. Maddie was in good hands. Tony would be okay, eventually.


He had never expected to come back to life. He had never expected to feel Tony’s lips on his. Not quite a kiss – and it was frustrating.

But Tony had come back for him. He had saved him – he did not know how. But he had.
Maybe it was true. Maybe Tony was his guardian angel.


He scoffed, slamming his mug down on the shelf before picking up his tools again and starting to sand his boat with a vengeance.


‘You’re being ridiculous, old man’, he told himself.


Well, at least, one good thing had transpired, and a smirk tugged at his lips despite of everything. He had kissed his Senior Field Agent – well, sort of. But a man could dream, couldn’t he? He had tasted those lips, and dirty water, very briefly, but he had felt…
Electrified. Perhaps it was not CPR that had revived him. Perhaps it had been the current circulating between their bodies that had stimulated his heart like a defibrillator.

His grin broke free and he corked his head slightly downwards and to the side, as if he was trying to keep an invisible host from deciphering the source of his affectionate amusement. The grin did not last long, anyway.


Who was he fooling? Even though he admitted to – at best – paternal feelings for the man he had once referred to as his ‘son’, which would be almost acceptable given the time the both of them had spent together and the less than savoury relationship Tony had with his biological father, what he actually felt was far from being platonic – he had been craving for Tony’s touch for years. Ever since he had first laid eyes on him, he had desired the man. Even though he had also wanted to shut him up with a bullet between the eyes at the time. Or with his tongue down his throat. But very soon, he had become addicted to that body, to the beautiful sight that welcomed him at work, to those unfathomable eyes, sensuous mouth, who smiled at him with an impossible mixture of utmost respect, playful insubordination and genuine care. He had always known he was bisexual. He had even told Shannon. He could appreciate a man’s beauty as he did a woman’s, and he had had some flings with other men before – mostly mutual masturbation, groping around and some kisses, though – but Tony’s unique persona had drawn him in a matter of days. He knew that to most people, his agent was shallow and fickle and superficial. But he knew that few people cared for others as much as he did. Tony had earned his almost instantaneously. And while it had taken him some time to remember Burley’s name, Gibbs already had to try hard not to call Tony by his first name on his third week at work. Tony’s name, he whispered to the dark, in his bed, at night, a hand gripping painfully his treacherous flesh, panting, sweating, *his* name coming again and again like a litany, now hoarse and thick with desire, now hushed and secretive and filled with longing and anguish and tortured passion.

He did not think too much of what Tony would think of him if he realized that Gibbs liked to watch Tony whenever he had the chance, to take him unawares, and not just because he had to hone his Marine skills… He felt like a voyeur, scrutinizing the shapely profile of his agent bent towards a file on his desk, or concentrating on a video game so hard he did not realize he was being watched until it was too late.

It was not too long before DiNozzo stole his heart. As hard as he tried to repress his feelings, he knew they were there, and at several occasions, he knew they had broken through. Thankfully, he was known for being the kind of guys who looked after their own, so as long as he kept bothering Tony whenever he got the chance, people did not mind him getting too worked up when ‘his boy’ was in danger. At the time when Tony had contracted the plague, he had never been as overwhelmed by emotions. Except perhaps when he had learned about Shannon and Kelly’s murder. His lust for the blood of those who dared to harm one of his own – and especially Tony – had kicked in almost immediately. He remembered pacing like a wolf behind bars. With a big juicy steak just outside the cell, just outside of his reach. He surely had felt like one. As he knew there was nothing much he could do to save his boy, except look for that bitch, he had engrossed himself in the hunt and had not relented until he had found the woman. It had lead him to threaten a scientist at gunpoint, and afterwards, when a complaint had been made against him, using the video recording of the laboratory as a proof, he had been stunned at the intensity of the hatred that had shown on his face at the time. He remembered Morrow had patted his shoulder with a wry smile, never saying a word, and leaving him to stare at a still of his face.

He had known it. Felt it in his gut. Tony had been dying, and there was nothing he could do. But he could not let him. Not without a fight. When he entered the ward and he overheard Kate, it was like a cold shower. He went to Tony and did the only thing he could.
He ordered him to live.

He knew that first time that Tony was slipping away from him. He could feel it. In his flesh. In his bones. Like a silent scream creeping up his spine to explode in his head. Tony was going and he was not God and he could not keep him alive even though he would have given anything to keep him by his side. The dread that overcame him hardened his resolve. So he had whacked his head.
And ordered again. More firmly. Believing what he was saying. He had to. He would go mad. He could not end his days in a psychiatric ward. Because the mad woman would have won.

But that time, Tony had answered, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Tony would make it. And Tony had made it. He had survived. The damage had been done, but he could still see him smile.


Well… Not for that long…


At the time when he had been wrapped up in the whole Ari business, he had completely neglected his co-workers. Well, except when Tony was ‘injured’. It had resulted in him getting Kate killed. Everybody told him it was not his fault, but she had been his responsibility, and she was his burden to bear. If he had felt responsible for Pacci, because he had thought a cold case could be postponed when he had his hands full of a hot one, Kate’s loss had been nearly unbearable. For all of them.

He had let them down.

He knew he could have gone and spent more time at the hospital to spend some time with Tony as he was recovering. He knew the young man had no idea that he only went there when he was asleep, lurking in the shadows. He never actually passed the threshold. He stayed there. No need to swear the nurse to secrecy, Tony would not believe her if she had talked to him. He never understood why he feared so much that his agent learnt that he cared. Perhaps he was afraid that Tony would know to what extent he actually cared. So he tried not to show him.

Of course he had invited Tony when he had been cleared, under the pretence that he wanted to keep an eye on him so that he would not get hurt. The agent had been restless. So he had allowed him back on the field sooner than he should have.

And Tony had nearly been blown up in the process.

It would have been ironic, wouldn’t it, if Tony had died two weeks after surviving the Black Death?

But then again, Tony had defied the odds – and Kate had not.

And that was about the only time when Gibbs allowed himself to show Tony that he cared for him somehow. He needed it. Perhaps it was his way of apologizing. Perhaps he had realized that maybe, he was being too hard on his agents, and that Kate had nearly died before he had made her understand that he valued her as an agent. He thought they knew, and that they did not need him to always shower them with compliments on their ability to do the job. He had thought that the satisfaction he himself felt at closing a case was sufficient. He had not realized that beneath their incessant bickering, there was not only a genuine desire to please him – and he had used that tool to the fullest – but also, at least on Tony’s part, a visceral need to get some sort of recognition. As if it could make a link between the two of them. Not because Tony obviously idolized him. But something more – on the human scale. A part of him he was not sure many people saw anymore.

Tony’s reaction to his sudden ‘kindness’ had intrigued him. And pained him. That Tony, who bore his wrath more steadily than any of his ‘victims’, even Stan Burley, was actually terrified of his being ‘nice’ had been… unsettling, to say the least. It had felt like a slap to his face. He had wanted to make him understand that he valued his life and well-being more than anything. He had wanted to cut him some slack. He had wanted – well, to hold him, obviously, but even though he had not really been able to have sexual thoughts, he had wanted to take him into his arms, and hold him, and keep him safe. He had needed his touch because he was feeling so bad, and he knew that he would have accepted none other’s.

But life had gone on.

He had adopted Ziva into his team as a favour to Jen and because he knew they could use her assets and connections as a Mossad Agent. It was as if almost everything was normal again. Tony still attracted trouble. Still got himself badly hurt. Still managed to get abducted somehow, make him crazy with worry, piss him off, and turn him on so bad he wanted to shove him into the elevator, declare his undying love for him and fuck him into oblivion despite the video recording. Hell. Screw the video recording – he would ask for a personal copy. Or he could just bend him over his desk and make out in front of everybody – and particularly – just to make his point. Tony was his. Or he should be. End of the discussion.


And the explosion had destroyed everything.


When Gibbs had recovered his memory, he had been scared. He had been confused. He had been disgusted at the lives his government was so willing to waste. He was still back after Kuwait, somehow. It seemed to him that Shannon and their beloved daughter had been killed only the previous day.

And then, there was Tony. His memory was fuzzy. But his feelings for the man were strong. Too strong. He had not understood why at first, but every time Tony’s name was mentioned, his heart started to race. There was only one explanation. But of course, he could not admit to it. He was a Marine. A good Marine simply did not do guys. And certainly not one’s Senior Field Agent. And if he did, it was nothing but sex. Or so they liked to think. He could give a hand to a buddy, from time to time. That was all. The intensity of his lust for Tony, of his desire to make him happy was dizzying. Tony just had to glance in his direction and he could not breathe any more. Not really. He had had to get away. So that he could leave without risking insubordination towards his government. So that he could grieve Shannon.

So that he could forget about Tony.


Mike had seemed the reasonable choice to make. He trusted him. He had faith in him. And even though they had not met in the past few years, he was the anchor to his past, the only person who knew exactly what he had gone through.

But he had those dreams, all the time. Dreams when he was not there to save the day at the last minute. Dreams in which they only found DiNozzo after months spent on his trail, his whole emaciated, barely recognizable body covered in grit, all swollen because of bees’ stings. Dreams in which White had had the time to slit Tony’s throat and he had to have Abby check the windshield splattered in Tony’s blood. Dreams in which Tony never stood a chance against Y.Pestis and Gibbs had to watch his life painfully slide away from him…

Dreams that screamed at him that it had always been too late. That he had always been in too deep as far as his feelings for the infuriating young man were concerned. That he should not need to abide by rule 12 because he had already fallen for Tony and that he cared so much already that it would not change anything if he gave into something he could not unmake. He did not trust anyone but himself with his safety. Every redhead he had dated – or married – was just another attempt at recovering what he had lost when he had lost Shannon. Even Jenny had reminded him of her, somehow. That was why it had been so easy to ‘make love’ to her on their mission. That was why he had thought Shannon was still alive somehow when he woke up from his coma…
Tony… was something entirely new. He had fallen in love with him because he was Tony, not a carbon copy of the wife who had died. He had desired men before. He had never fallen in love with them. And yet there was no way he could mistake Tony for Shannon. It was as frightening as it was elating. Or would have been if Tony had not been his subordinate.

And yet, he had failed the young man.

In that respect, his flight to Mexico had been a mistake. He had known that his hand lingering on Tony’s shoulder was not a token of his confidence in the young man good enough for him to accept that he was going. Worse, he had done it more for himself than for Tony. To reassure him that he would be okay. His emotions were in turmoil, at the time. During the short time that the contact lasted, some of his wettest dreams picturing Tony had flashed in his head. As well as the undying faith he had in the young man, and the unrequited feeling he harboured for him. He had to touch him, one last time. To feel that connection between them before he built a wall.

On the drive home, Ducky had not spoken much; it was only when they reached his house that he laid a hand on his arm and asked him why. Why? Because even though they tried so hard, they could not save anybody. No other reason, Jethro? You know there isn’t. Of course, not.

Of course, not, Ducky had scoffed. They had shared a glance, Ducky’s searching something in his eyes that was not there, perhaps, because at length he had let him go.


‘Abigail will be distraught, Jethro.’
‘It’s not as if I was dead.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Yeah… I’ll miss her.’
‘She’s not the only one who will be distraught, Jethro.’


Gibbs had looked at his old friend, inquiringly. Bur Ducky was taking his time.


‘You know whom I’m talking about.’
‘Tony will be just fine, Duck.’
‘Yes. You did not see the boy, Jethro. He’s been keeping up for you. To watch your six, catch the bastard who had you blown up. I’m sure he knew there was something going on.’
‘And he was right. Now you see, let him trust his gut. He’ll be fine.’
‘He’ll miss you, Jethro. He looks up to you. He worships you.’


There was a pause.


‘He loves you.’
‘I’m not his father, Duck.’
‘No, you’re not. But he cares for you. He tries to please you. What will happen when you’re not there to spur him into the right direction?’


He had smiled. A bitter smile.


‘Well he’ll try to shoulder the burden I’ve laid on his shoulders. And he’ll do great.’
‘He lacks confidence. He’s insecure.’
‘He’ll keep up.’
‘At what cost?’


His smile had faltered. Ducky had put his hand back on his arm, squeezing gently.


‘He needs you, Jethro. We all need you.’
‘Yeah…’


He chuckled, bitter, shaking his hand.


‘Yeah. He’ll do fine, Ducky. He’s the best agent I’ve had so far. The best partner. Better than Jen. And she made it to the top of the ladder. He’ll be fine, Duck.’


He had to.


‘You can still come back, you know.’
‘I’m going, Duck. I can’t stay. I have to… sort things out.’
‘You could have gone on a vacation. Tony would handle it well, surpass himself so that you can be proud of him upon your return.’
‘I’m not coming back…’
‘You’re doing the biggest mistake of your whole life. You know it?’


Gibbs had a short bark of laughter.


‘Like marrying my three last wives?’
‘Worse than that. You know I thought…’


The silver-haired man waited, but Ducky had shaken his head after a moment.


‘Never mind.’
‘I’ll miss you, Ducky.’
‘Yes. Yes, so will I…’
‘I’ll see you around.’


And with a pat to the man’s knee, he was gone.


When he had come back, he had understood how much Tony had resented his departure. And how right he was. Gibbs had lost his trust – it was almost palpable. Or at least, he had lost the blind trust Tony had had in him – his trust now was more reserved. Calculated. Or else, Tony would have bypassed Jenny’s order and talked to him. And he knew that Tony had every right to be mad. He was mad at himself too. He had tried to make amends – he should have tried harder. And even though he wanted nothing more than grab him by the shoulders and tell him how much he loved him, and that he did not care if Tony punched him in the face right then because all he wanted was that everything was right again.

But he had not done it, and things had been somewhat strained until he had thought Tony could have been blown up in that car, and that Jenny had ordered him to lie to him all along…

And then, there was Mann. Gibbs liked the girl. She provided him with some company. Since he could not have Tony, he liked to spend time with her. And he enjoyed being around her. She had spunk.

When he had come back to NCIS, it had soon become obvious that Tony was involved with a woman, and that it was serious. It had bothered him. Something was off in the picture. He had not liked it when Tony went out for one night stands… He liked it even less when he had seemed to have one night stands with the same woman, repeatedly. Of course, it was because he wanted to be the one Tony felt like that about. He wanted to be the one for whom Tony would break his pattern. But deep down, he knew that it bothered him because one night stands were made for the physical relief. That Tony could go on like that for years and that he would never get close to anybody like Gibbs wanted to get close to him.

So somehow, as long as Tony kept on with the one night stands, he still had the illusion those longing glances Tony cast at him sometimes were more than a mere figment of his imagination. He had always wondered what it was exactly that his Agent was feeling for Paula Cassidy. He knew he cared. Hell, he knew he loved her. And he knew they’d have sex. But he did not have to like it. But he had also guessed that it was her death that had propelled him to the brim into the waiting arms of the Benoît woman. No wonder he had fallen for her. Gibbs had not been there for him. Stupid pride. He should have had Tony sit down somewhere and talked to him and told him he cared, that he was sorry. That he believed in him.

That he loved him.

And he knew that if Jeanne had not been La Grenouille’s daughter, Tony would have been lost to him forever.


Gibbs sighed. This was complicated. It should not be. He put his tools down and headed upstairs to his kitchen, washing his hands and wiping them before rubbing his neck tiredly.


What Tony had told him the previous night had shaken him. Did Tony really think his life was worth so little in his boss’s eyes?

He had always cared a great deal about his Senior Field Agent. It had always been a feeling deeper that the one you have for a partner. Perhaps it was because Tony kept getting involved in impossible situations and ended up very short from being killed. He cared about other team mates as well. He cared about Abby like he would care about his daughter, had she not died… And Kate… A part of him had died that day with her. When she was shot, and her blood was splayed all over Tony’s face…

Tony’s terrified, gaze fixed on him…

He had thought for an instant that Ari had had Tony, too, and that he simply had not heard the shot…


Collapsing into a chair, he buried his face in his hands. It was always so hard to face the guilt he felt.


He knew Tony had wondered if Gibbs would have born it better if it had been him. That hurt. What had hurt more was the wounded look in Tony’s eyes when his boy had hinted at it. God how could Tony think so little about himself? Was Jethro being too harsh on him all the time that DiNozzo still was so insecure?

What he would have liked… What he was wishing for… Well, he could never choose between two of his agents. If it had been Tony instead of Kate…

God, he did not want to think about it.

Even though he was loathed to admit it, the only thing he knew was that if it had been Tony, he could never have kept what was left of his sanity.

But apparently, Tony did not know that. And thought the contrary.

Not once had Gibbs confronted the young man, weeks after Kate’s death, as Tony spent much more time than usual scrubbing his face under the shower. He was not sure the young man even realized what he was doing.

Well, he should have tried to make it up to him somehow. Really try. Show him that he cared. People like Ducky saw that he lost it whenever Tony was hurt or missing; they knew why he was mad at him when he was still recovering, or did not say anything at all because he was too upset and was just trying to vent his fear in the only way he knew – he would not admit to any weakness after all, breaking down in tears simply was not his style – or keep to himself, turning his thoughts on other cases in order to shun from the mixture of pain and relief at seeing Tony come home to him…

Admittedly, he had been too hard on Tony. Just seeing how little he thought of himself had surprised him. Then again, DiNozzo had not had such a nice childhood. He knew little of the man’s family life, but it was far from being perfect. Tony’s father was the kind of men who preferred sitting all day behind their desk, counting figures, his only real preoccupation as far as his son was concerned being his performances. Tony had been a seasoned cop before he came to him. Strong men did not need to be reassured of their performances. He knew Tony did not mind that much the jokes he pulled at him, sometimes. Or his slapping his head all the time – well, perhaps if it was not that often or hard, perhaps…

He had known that Tony wanted more from him. Wanted to know he *really* cared. But he had never been able to give him just that. Just because of his misconceptions. Just because McGee was overtly insecure and Gibbs knew that Tony would never let his own insecurity interfere with his job.

But he had made a mistake: it put a strain on him in the long run. And that was definitely not good. If Ducky had not suggested that he should go and visit Tony, he would not have. And Tony would have reappeared at work the following week as if nothing had happened. Keeping everything bottled up into himself. Tony appeared strong enough to take all the shit he always threw his way. And maybe he was. But the plates of the scale had been far too unbalanced for far too long…


Gibbs ran a hand down his face. He had messed up. Badly. He should have realized that sooner. It was not because Tony seemed to be fine with everything that he was. That was precisely the reason why he was so damned good at undercover missions – well, when he did not get involved with he/she murderers, anyway. Because Gibbs knew in his gut that Tony had not been as disturbed by the fact Voss had been a man as the fact he/she had killed Pacci. And that he felt guilty about thinking of making out with a potential suspect – or linked to a suspect – who incidentally had killed one of their own.

That was certainly Tony’s biggest mistake. Even though he saw murder on a daily basis, he still had faith in humanity. He still believed in people.

Gibbs had drove Tony home, that day, after the Jeffrey White ‘incident’. Yes, he had felt relieved that his agent had been safe and sound.

Seeing his hands covered in blood… Seeing his head bowed down…

Hell, White could have slit his throat like a pig’s for all he knew. The rational part of his brain told him the blood would have gushed forward, splashing the windshield, yet he had not dared to hope. Then he had seen Tony was unharmed, and the relief he had felt, washing over him, was so intense that he had nearly felt like laughing. But despite his relief, the look on Tony’s face was…

He shuddered.

God… He did not want to see Tony like this again. He knew DiNozzo had been conflicted. He did not like it when Gibbs saw just how weak he really could get. But now, he would bet anything that his agent must have wanted him to show some compassion. Or something.

He had taken him home. He had sat in Tony’s armchair and nursed a beer while he watched the young man, who was uncharacteristically quiet. Some of his tension had been eased by the end of the evening, but not his sadness.

Not his sadness.


When they had called the evening to an end, Tony had offered him an unreadable gaze, a sad smile, and a quiet ‘Thank you’ before closing the door. He remembered he had stood outside staring at the door for some time before heading off. And Tony must have stayed behind his door because he had not heard the tell-tale noise of his feet shuffling.

Gibbs had known that there was something going on, but he had not known what. And the next day, DiNozzo had come back to work, as joyful as he usually was. Not a hint at what had transpired. So Gibbs conveniently ignored his gut feeling that told him his right hand man was just too good at his job for his own sake. And so he had not confronted him. Again.

Maybe he should have. But now it was too late. Tony had managed on his own. He always did. Somehow.


**
*

‘Well M’Gee you know there is always time to-‘


The phone rang and the Marine rolled his eyes, sighing, picking the phone up to answer it.


‘Gibbs… What?... Okay, we’re coming. Grab your gear!’


He was up and walking in mere seconds, throwing the keys to Tony as he headed for the elevator. Tony scrambled to his feet, and hurried to his side, joined by Ziva and McGee soon afterwards.


‘What do we have, boss?’ Tony asked.
‘Aren’t ya supposed to be on leave, Tony?’
‘Yeah, but you were right, it’s bad for me to be locked up all day like that. A little exercise will be good for me.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah boss.’
‘So be it. There is a… “club” that some Marines are known to attend. Four people got bashed in an alley outside in the past few weeks. All civilians. So the police kept it for itself.’
‘They did not close the bar?’
‘Nope. The guys were not that badly wounded and refused to file a complaint. ‘Sides, the owner and his costumers don’t want it closed, because they don’t want the ‘others’ to win.’
‘I don’t understand, boss, if-‘, McGee interjected.
‘We’ll talk about it later, McGee. Why do we have to go? Simple. They found a… ‘crime scene’ this morning. At the place where the guys were attacked. No body. But, the area was taped and the police swear they did not tape it.’
‘You mean…’


The doors opened and they went in.


‘Yeah. I do. They found an envelope pinned to the tape. Addressed to a Special Agent Gibbs in N.C.I.S. That would be me.’
‘Sounds like a trap, Boss.’
‘It is always a trap, DiNozzo. We just have to be extra careful. And McGee?’


McGee had been gaping at Gibbs’ back the whole time, frowning, trying to wrap his mind around the scant facts that he was given. Tony mouthed something to him, but he did not catch it. The doors opened again and Gibbs stepped out.


‘Close your mouth, McGee.’


Tony grinned at him foolishly as he did, winking at him before following the boss. The Mossad Liaison Agent grabbed Timothy’s elbow and waited until Tony and Gibbs were far enough to whisper in his ear.


‘Don’t mind him’, Ziva said. ‘He’s not got laid in a while. It’s just Peter Pan coming through.’
‘And that Tina he told us about?’


Ziva gave him an incredulous look.


‘You don’t believe every single word Tony says, do you, McGee?’
‘Well… I… uh… No! Of course not!’


She sighed.


‘You know, McGee, you’re cute, but-‘
‘IF YOU DON’T MOVE YOUR ARSES YOU WALK, CAPICE?’ shouted Gibbs from his position beside the car.
‘Ooh I love it when you speak Italian, Boss…’, his Senior Field Agent said.
‘Get your arse into the car, Tony, and wipe that smirk off your face.’
‘Yes, sir…’
‘DiNozzo…’
‘On it boss.’
‘Tony.’


The young man stopped at the sudden seriousness of Gibbs’ tone and he frowned. Gibbs was avoiding his gaze – sort off, scratching his temple with the tip of his forefinger, turning slightly away from him.

That question had been creeping up on him until some time, now. Ever since he had learned about the undercover operation.

He faced his agent, while McGee and Ziva still were not there, dipping his voice a bit.


‘D’you still trust me?’


Tony looked slightly taken aback for a moment. Then he smiled. Something melted inside Gibbs. That was a smile of forgiveness. He could never give Tony what he truly deserved. And he could not give him what he wanted to give him, partly because it was a selfish desire, but Gibbs realized exactly to what extent Anthony DiNozzo was a beautiful man…


‘Of course I do, boss. I trust you with my life. There is no one I trust more.’


Tony held his gaze, smiling sweetly at him, and he felt compelled to smirk in response. Tony’s smile broadened at that, and there was something in his eyes that Gibbs could not describe, even though he had seen it there many times when Tony’s shields were down. His heart skipped a bit and he swallowed as Ziva and McGee reached the car. The Mossad agent spoke up.


‘Err… What with the staring contest? Are we missing something?’
‘Well, no Ziva’, answered Gibbs, reluctantly breaking eye contact, ‘but you’ll both be missing something if your butt isn’t in the car in three seconds.’


Tony laughed as his team mate hurried to sit down. Gibbs shook his head and sat behind the wheel. He could not help grinning.

Well. That promised to be interesting.


**
*

‘Boss, it’s a gay bar…’ Tony whispered, paling.


Gibbs spared him a weary glance.


‘Why, yeah, well done, DiNozzo. We might make an investigator out of you, after all. What. You got a problem with that?’
‘No… No! It’s just that…’


Tony swallowed. It had not even crossed his mind. He knew that club. He knew it, for he had been spending his Friday nights there for the last few months. He stared at the sign. If the bartender so much as gave an inkling that he had been there before, he would have some explanation to do.

But Gibbs was staring at him, lifting an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.


‘Ahh…’
‘Cat got your tongue, DiNozzo?’
‘No… It’s just that… I thought you said Marines went there a lot…’
‘And?’
‘Well… It’s a *gay* bar…’
‘Yeah?’
‘Well they’re *Marines*…’
‘You think all Marines are straight?’
‘Yes! No! I mean…’
‘Haven’t you seen LOTS of gay Marines since you’ve worked for NCIS?’
‘Yeah, we did, sort of, but-‘
‘So what is it, DiNozzo?’
‘Ah… Boss… I-‘
‘You’ve tongued one of them, if I remember correctly, haven’t you? So it should not be so hard for you to realize that there are gay bars that yeah, Marines attend, should it?’
‘Now wait Boss I just –‘


But Gibbs was already storming off and he let out a sonorous ‘… Shit!’ as Ziva and McGee were staring at him. It was Ziva who broke the silence that had settled.


‘Aw, Tony, I really wouldn’t want to stand in your shoes, right now…’


Tony stared back at Ziva, a little stunned. The last thing he needed was for Gibbs to think he was homophobic. And the last thing he needed was for Gibbs, of all people, to remind him of one of his worst failures.


‘Ziva, I-‘
‘HEY!’


Gibbs was already coming back towards them.


‘What are you waiting for?’ the lead agent said sweetly. ‘For me to fetch you a cup of coffee?’
‘Well, actually, that would be kinda nice…’ grinned Tony.


The whack to the head was expected, but from his viewpoint, McGee could see a smile tugging at the corners of Gibbs’ lips. He might have been angry or… something two minutes ago, but McGee knew the older man could not resist long to Tony’s ‘charming personality’.


‘That’ll teach you to be a smart arse’, Gibbs said.
‘Got it, Boss.’, mumbled Tony, obviously relieved, rubbing the back of his head as they followed Gibbs into the so-called ‘crime scene’.