Title: Charlie Potatoes
Rated: M
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Tags: slash, first time, established relationship, m/m sex, pre-season 1, pre-series, season 3, hurt/comfort, two POVs, handcuffs, on the run, fugitives
Spoilers: Season 3
Warnings: none
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,000
Story Takes Place: November, 2005 - Season 3: around 3x07 Honor Code
Flashback - takes place: November, 2003, just prior to Season 1
Written for NCIS Reverse Big Bang 2015, prompted by art from kj_svala
Thanks to: Wikipedia, IMDB, and Mom for keeping me up late as a kid to watch the midnight movie on TV. And thanks my betas, Combatcrazy and Fireheart13, for all their input and hard work!
Notes: I took liberties with some police procedures, and used my imagination about some equipment. Nothing major.
Synopsis: A case involving handcuffs brings back memories for Gibbs and DiNozzo, when they ended up being handcuffed and on the run together. "It was just the two of us behind enemy lines. Handcuffs were involved. Things got hairy for a while, but you know Gibbs. He took charge and I fell for him…hard. What can I say? He's Gibbs."
CHARLIE POTATOES
Charlie Potatoes - an old slang term for someone who is on top of the world, usually in terms of money or popularity.
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
In The Defiant Ones (1958), John 'Joker' Jackson (played by Tony Curtis) is on the run while handcuffed to Noah Cullen (Sidney Poitier). The two men start out as enemies due to racial and other issues, but eventually become friends and help each other out when things get tough. In the end, Cullen literally sacrifices his freedom for his buddy.
Quotes from the film:
~ Jackson, who is a big talker, says that as soon as he is free, he's heading for Rio. "And I'll be Charlie Potatoes, comin' down the street, with a Panama hat and a good-lookin' gal."
~ Cullen: "Go on, tell me all that big talk about Charlie Potatoes, when the chains are off and nobody's chasing you. Come on. You can't, can you? You can't because you're nothing."
~ Jackson, when they're about to be re-captured, huffs, "Charlie Potatoes. I'm mashed potatoes now."
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
CHAPTER 1 - Wheat-Os
November, 2005
Tony was putting the Wheat-Os on the kitchen table when Jethro appeared, still half asleep. "Mornin'," Tony said, delivering a kiss to Jethro's unshaven cheek.
"Mmm. Wha's time?" Honing in on the coffee pot, Jethro rubbed his head, causing his already messy hair to stand up on end.
"It's eight," Tony said. He handed Jethro a red mug that proclaimed, 'Keep Calm and Trust the Special Agent,' while surreptitiously checking him out. The faded old t-shirt and sagging flannel pj bottoms had seen better days, but Tony found his lover's soft old clothing rather endearing. Not for the first time, he imagined what Leroy must have been like as a kid: stubborn, a daredevil, always getting in trouble. And cute, too, no doubt. He would bet that as a young man Leroy had caused a few hearts to beat quickly, back in that small town he came from, especially when he broke out in one of his rare smiles. Tony snorted and thought, 'Not so different from how he is as an adult.'
Jethro gulped down some steaming black coffee and gave a moan of satisfaction. "Needed that."
"You needed the sleep," Tony pointed out. It came out sounding more like 'I told you so' than he intended. Last night had been the first real rest they'd had in who-knows-how-long. It had been one tough case after another, following hard on the heels of Gibbs' final confrontation with Ari Haswari.
Jethro just drank his coffee and grunted.
Tony had read the official report, and he'd heard Gibbs' side of the story, but he knew there was more to it than Gibbs facing off the terrorist in his own basement. Tony sighed, knowing he'd probably never know what really occurred. Wrap up the case and walk away from it or else it'll eat at you, Gibbs had said more than once. It wasn't easy but Tony had decided to follow that rule, reminding himself that what really mattered was that Kate's killer was dead.
The drawn look Jethro had had for the past couple of days was gone, and he had some color in his cheeks but one night's sleep in his own bed wasn't going to make up for weeks of being on the job. Tony reached over and rubbed Jethro's back. "You push yourself too hard. The last thing either of us needs right now is to get sick, Jethro."
"I look sick to you?" Jethro demanded, sending Tony a glare that was somewhat muted due to the fact his eyes were half-closed.
No, Tony wanted to say. You look exhausted. Even if he was damned fit and bore himself like a Marine, Jethro had his limitations. Not that he would ever admit it. Asking for help was not one of Jethro's attributes, as Tony had discovered soon after he'd met him back in Baltimore.
Well, Jethro was going to get help anyway because Tony had taken it upon himself to ensure his wellbeing, and no amount of growling was going to make Tony shirk his responsibilities. Tony smiled and said, "We all know that germs run for the hills whenever they see you coming. Just the same, babe, there's a first time for everything."
Jethro looked hard at Tony and asked, "And what about you, babe?"
Okay, apparently calling him babe was not a good thing first thing in the morning. "What about me? I'm not the one who pulled several all-nighters in a row."
"Huh. Funny, 'cause I coulda sworn that was you on my six."
"Only because I missed you in bed." The past few nights, Tony had stayed by Gibbs' side when he had been too stubborn to leave work. Tony had slept on the carpeted floor under his desk even though he'd longed for their own bed and for the comfort of Jethro's strong arms around him. Not exactly hat he'd call restful nights. "Good thing we caught the guy or else you'd still be at your desk, Boss. I was about to roll our bed into the bullpen; my back was starting to kill me." Tony pulled a face of exaggerated pain, placed a hand in the small of his back, and let out a small whine.
Jethro said in an exasperated tone, "I told you to go home for a reason, Tony. It's only been a few months since…"
Tony conjured up a disarming smile and shrugged. "Hey, I'm no longer hacking up a lung every morning like a pack-a-day smoker, and I'd like to point out, in case you hadn't noticed, I can even go on my usual run without needing to call 911." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he shouldn't have said them.
Jethro glared at Tony and demanded, "You think maybe that's because that trip to the hospital knocked some sense into you?"
Hanging his head, Tony sighed. "Okay, I learned my lesson, Jethro. Look, that…incident was weeks ago. I'm fine now."
"You overdo it again and I'm gonna…"
"Hey, I'm not going to! Brad said I could resume my running and I've been working my way up slowly," Tony said in his own defense. Jethro knew all this but he still seemed doubtful so Tony tried to lighten the mood. "You know, my doctor can still do a mean tackle, so believe me, I listen to him."
Jethro grunted and still didn't seem convinced so Tony wrapped his arms around Jethro's waist and leaned into him, careful not to jog the coffee mug. As expected, a second later Jethro slid his free arm around Tony's shoulders and hugged him tight. "I can't help it. I worry," he whispered in Tony's ear.
They kissed, a slow slide of lips and tongues, and when they parted Tony said softly, "It works both ways, you know."
Jethro loosened his hold on Tony so he could look into his eyes. "I don't want to ever come home and find you like that again…you got that?"
"Yes, Jethro," Tony said meekly.
Jethro studied him with suspicion but after a moment he nodded. "Okay. Breakfast."
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
The hottest and most humid day in August was not the best day to go for a run, and Tony had been sweating from the first step. He had known he was in trouble within a couple of miles, but he'd pushed hard, wanting to get back home so he wouldn't have to call Jethro to come to his rescue. He had barely made it home and stumbled onto the porch, his heart racing madly, his damaged lungs trying – and failing – to compensate for the strenuous exercise.
He must have blacked out because next thing he'd known Jethro was slapping his cheek and calling his name. "Damn it, Tony! Tony!"
Tony had never seen Gibbs so close to panic before. Admittedly he, too, had been freaking out in his own way, what with the gasping, and the vision going dark around the edges, and he was pretty sure he was gonna die at any moment. Even more frightening had been the way the way-too-serious EMTs had scooped him up and rushed him to the hospital with a full complement of lights and sirens.
If they don't think I have a hope in hell of making it, then I'm a goner, Tony had thought just before he'd passed out again.
Waking up with a tube down his throat had felt like the worst thing ever. Well, maybe second to never waking up at all. To make matters worse, they'd tied his wrists to the bed, and he had been frustrated at being unable to communicate until Abby had visited, reminding Tony that he could fingerspell in basic ASL. It hadn't been easy to shout at doctors with his fingers, but Tony had done his best with Abby dutifully translating for him. It had taken ages to convince them to start weaning him off the ventilator, but then Jethro had come to his defense and eventually the tube was removed.
For a while it had been so hard to breathe that Tony had almost asked them to put him back on the ventilator, but Jethro had held his hand tightly and coached him until he remembered how to breathe on his own. Eventually, Tony had believed he just might make it after all, and he'd fallen asleep with Jethro gently stroking his hair.
After a couple more days spent hanging around in the uncomfortable hospital bed, while tethered to a lot of machines and pumped full of medications that made him feel nauseous, Tony had finally been sent home. His gift bag had contained several vials of prescription meds as well as strict instructions to curtail his physical activity for a week.
"Yes, a week," Ducky had said. "And that means avoiding any activity that raises your heart rate over 100," he had added with a knowing look.
"Oh c'mon, Ducky! I read a study that men expend more energy thinking and talking about sex than actually doing it," Tony had complained. "Your heart rate and blood pressure during sex are about the same as…as raking leaves."
"Then I suggest you refrain from raking any leaves. I would like to remind you, Anthony, that after you had the plague, you curtailed your convalescence and came back to work far too early, and look where that got you," had been Ducky's comeback.
"Yeah, but Gibbs needed me," he'd pointed out to an unimpressed Ducky.
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
After the running/lungs-not-working/rushing-to-the-hospital incident, Gibbs had sat Tony down and made him memorize a whole slew of new rules that all began with 'DiNozzo will not–'.
Rule #1: DiNozzo will not return to work after any kind of injury without being cleared by two medical doctors of whom Gibbs approves. In writing.
Rule #2: DiNozzo will not lie, conceal, prevaricate, mislead or otherwise hide any health issues from Gibbs.
Rule #3: DiNozzo will not go running without a buddy unless he gets written permission from Gibbs first.
Tony knew he had to apologize to Jethro for worrying him. "Look, I get it. You're not alone. I scared the shit out of myself, Boss. Believe me, I never want to get up close and personal to suffocating again." Tony then managed to convince Jethro that having his cock sucked wasn't exactly exerting himself. "They say that the MOB position – man on the bottom – is less strenuous, and I'll be happy to lie here and take whatever you're willing to give me," he'd said with a grin.
By the time morning had rolled around, although Jethro had long-since forgiven Tony, he'd still made him recite the new rules and had punctuated the lesson with a light headslap.
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
"Orange juice?" Tony asked, pouring a couple of glasses of juice and setting them on the table without waiting for an answer.
"You're always pushing the limits," Jethro pointed out, not moving away from the coffee maker.
Tony said, "You're not exactly Mr. I-need-a-hand, you know. I could remind you of that time we were undercover together in Virginia. You were stubborn as hell when I wanted to help you, even though you were hurt pretty badly."
"Don't remind me," Jethro replied in a long-suffering voice.
"But you gave in."
"Yeah, well, you were pretty persistent," was Jethro's reply.
"Like Ducky says, we're not so different, you and me," Tony observed, smiling.
"The difference is, I know my limits," Jethro said, apparently believing what he was saying.
Barely refraining from scoffing, Tony sat at the table and said, "I'm just looking out for you, Jethro."
Jethro gave an almost imperceptible nod before busying himself replenishing his mug of coffee.
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
Tony was the kind of guy who appreciated beauty, whether in film, in music, in the physical appearance of both men and women. He was pretty much bowled over by Gibbs right from the start – what with his 'I'm doing this my way' attitude and his piercing blue eyes – but Tony never envisioned that their relationship might advance to anything beyond being colleagues.
He might enjoy Gibbs' good looks and admire him as a man, because Gibbs was pretty hot even when he was scowling and (especially when he was) about to rip into some poor unsuspecting soul, but Tony just didn't look at him in a sexual way. He may have pictured what Gibbs looked like naked, especially after a sneaking a peak at his well-toned ass and back during a HazMat shower, and Tony may have wondered what kind of lover Gibbs was every time saw him with a woman, but for some reason, Tony had never seen himself as part of that picture.
So, after they had been working together for a couple of years, and Tony started experiencing these odd feelings and unusual reactions to his boss (what Abby had called 'the warm and fuzzies'), it took him a while to recognize them for what they were. And when he finally did face reality, all Tony could think was, "Oh fuck, I've got the hots for the boss. He's gonna find out. I am going to fucking die."
It turned out that Gibbs wasn't all that blind to Tony's finer points, either, although it took a mission-gone-wrong, with tension high and danger imminent, before either of them would admit their mutual attraction.
After Tony had overcome the shock of the whole thing, he'd realized that he'd been blind and stupid and in denial, but then, apparently so had Gibbs. Suddenly there was hope…and expectation and possibility. It was an incredible, life-changing occasion, like when Professor Challenger discovered prehistoric creatures in modern times in The Lost World – only in Tony's version, his dangerous adventure had led to the discovery of Gibbs, instead of pterodactyls armed with wicked beaks and sharp talons. (Some might debate that there was little difference between the two, but Tony knew otherwise.)
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
Strangely enough, they were able to keep their relationship quiet, and without really trying. While at work, they never talked about anything that would give a clue that they were a couple. Tony didn't drive in with Gibbs. Gibbs didn't ask Tony to pick up some milk on the way home. Gibbs didn't touch Tony any more than usual, and maybe he even cut back on the head slaps a bit. Tony didn't flirt with him or call him Jethro, or sneak a quick kiss in the elevator – even though there were times he was dying to do so. Even more surprising, they didn't find it too difficult to keep work and home lives separate. Tony theorized that was because they'd always separated work from home life, like many cops did, as a way of keeping sane.
Tony frequented his apartment less and less over time, but as he had rarely invited friends over anyway, nobody noticed. He usually met them at a club or restaurant, and that didn't change.
Abby was the only one who seemed to pick up on the strong vibes between Gibbs and Tony, but then she'd always said (half-jokingly) that they really should hook up together, and that she'd pay to watch them getting it on.
"I knew it!" she squealed, jumping up and down, her pigtails flying joyfully about her face.
That was after she punched Tony for not telling her.
Which was after Gibbs left her lab in a hurry, saying she should talk to Tony.
Which was after she saw them standing shoulder to shoulder in her lab, listening attentively while she explained, "…and so by my calculations of the bullet's trajectory, Ensign Granger was shot by a sniper in a supine position on the fourth floor of this building…or else the shot was taken by a twelve-foot tall man on the third floor…" Abby narrowed her eyes, aware that the two men weren't giving her findings the attention they required. "Sooooo…what is it about you guys that's setting off my Gibbs-Nozzo radar today?"
"Nothing," Tony said quickly, turning to Gibbs ("You talk to Tony") only to find he was already halfway to the elevator. "Coward!" Tony called after him.
It took a really big hug and a pinkie-swear promise from Tony that he'd share all the dirt, just to keep Abby quiet. Tony also had to extend an invitation (acquired under duress) to a sleepover that night.
He managed to escape upstairs, where he hunted down Gibbs in the break room and punched him in the arm after making sure nobody was looking.
Gibbs scowled, holding his upper arm. "What the hell, DiNozzo?"
Tony flapped his hand around, crying out in pain, because Gibbs' arm was as hard as iron. "Ow! That hurt. You deserved that for deserting me. You'd better be prepared to wear your best jammies tonight because I promised Abby she could come over. She's gonna ask questions, Boss."
Gibbs actually turned a little pale. "To our house? Questions?"
Rolling his eyes, Tony said, "Yeah, and she's probably going to quiz you on whether the Bulldog or the Pyramid provides a better penetration angle."
Gibbs looked at Tony with interest. "Is the Pyramid that one where you stick your butt in the air…?"
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~