Title: One Trace of Darkness
Author: Jasmine
Rated: T
Universe: NCIS, Season 6
Summary: A witness insists that she be protected by Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, but the question is, why?
Warning: The subject matter, it deals with S&M, but nothing explicit. Also a few curse words.
Challenge: I was shooting for a 10,000 word story, but didn't make it. Maybe next time.
Disclaimer: I make no money off this.
Date: January 1, 2011
****************************************8
"If you want me to testify, that's my deal. Take it or leave it."
Gibbs studied the woman; she was provocatively confident. He prided himself on reading people, having developed that intangible skill of knowing when someone was lying or not, and right now, he knew that she wasn't bluffing. "I'm not sure I can do that."
"You can do anything you want, Agent Gibbs, and more if you think there's a conviction in there somewhere. Ask Fornell. He knows."
On the other side of the mirror, Ziva and McGee gave each other a concerned look. Tim, however, turned his confusion to intrigue after only a moment for he liked it when the senior field agent was set in the crosshairs, "I can't wait until Tony hears this."
Ziva harrumphed, "Gibbs will never grant it."
"I don't know, Ziva. We've been after Captain Bowers for six months. Longest case I ever remember working. And now Gibbs has an opportunity to nail him and all he has to do is grant one tiny request." Oh the fun he was going to have with this, he mused.
"I do not think it is all that tiny a request, McGee. In fact, I think it is pretty big and not very feasible."
But Tim was in his own world, thinking about this latest development in a case that had more twists and turns than the Milton Bradley game.
*********************************8
"Do it," Fornell said.
Gibbs was taken aback by the speed at which Tobias answered. He didn't even give it a second thought. "I don't like to use my people like that."
"Give me a break, Jethro. This is Special Agent DiNotso we're talking about. You think he'd pass up an opportunity like this?"
Gibbs couldn't put his finger on it, but something just wasn't right about it.
"Why the hesitation, Jethro? DiNotso's single, handsome, available, and qualified to do the job. She's single, beautiful, multi-talented, and willing to testify. If she wants him in exchange for testimony, give him to her. And in the process, you'd probably be doing him a favor."
Gibbs stretched his neck. There was no reason to deny her request other than his gut was telling him to. As for Tony, to deny him an opportunity to be with this particular woman did seem inhumane. Still, he couldn't help feeling like none of this was what it seemed.
*********************************8
The bullpen was unusually quiet. Ziva looked across at McGee and then sideways at Gibbs; both were diligently nose down in work. Then she looked across at Tony's desk, empty. Seemed to be the usual anymore where her partner was concerned. After the fiasco with Jeanne Benoit, and then the Director's death, Tony seemed less than eager to fill special assignments even though he was more in demand now than ever before.
She cocked her head at the commotion coming from the elevator and let a feeling of relief wash over her when she heard his voice. She wondered if Gibbs would be pacified with his excuse this time.
"Sorry, Boss, I ran the evidence across town to the FBI headquarters and got caught in traffic on the White Hurst Freeway. Won't happen again." He had already tossed his backpack and stowed his weapon when he heard his boss call his name. It was the kind of tone that you use when you're going to delivery bad news, not when you're getting ready to chew someone out for being late.
"Yeah, Boss."
"I need to talk to you."
"Sure. What about?"
"I need you to run protection detail for Chantal Payne."
"What?"
Gibbs wondered if this was going to be a tough sell or if his agent would be happy about the assignment. Something told him Tony wasn't going to be very happy. If that were the case, he hoped he didn't have to resort to anything more than a stern look, but the only thing predictable about his senior field agent was that he was unpredictable. Maybe he'd go peacefully, maybe not. "Take her to the safe house and babysit her for two days, just until Captain Bowers is arraigned."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea… Is this about me being late because I told you I—?"
"Nope."
"Then… I don't understand?"
"It was her call."
"Her call?"
"Yeah. She requested that you be the agent in charge."
"Since when do we take requests?"
"Since she's the only witness we have and her testimony is going to bring down Captain Bowers."
"Tell her we don't work that way."
"Too late. She already knows we do."
Tim had started out being eager to hear the conversation, but now he was having doubts. He had originally thought that Tony might jump at the idea of being with Chantal; after all, she is one of the most beautiful women in the business, even if she was a few years older than him. But Tony didn't seem too excited to be doing it. In fact, he appeared unusually perturbed by such a request.
"That's bullshit!"
"I know," but instead of elaborating, Gibbs picked up his coffee cup and left the bullpen.
Tony stared after him, repeating quietly to himself, "That's bullshit."
"Most men would jump at this opportunity, Tony," Ziva said, looking up at her agitated partner. "In fact, from what I have heard, most agents are disappointed she chose you."
Tony mumbled something inaudible and returned to his desk.
McGee added, "You know, Tony, you shouldn't make this out as such a hardship. From what I hear, she can do things in the bedroom that most men only dream about."
After a moment, Ziva and McGee shared a worried look. There had been no arguing from him, no debate, no smart ass quips; he just stared into space. They approached his desk and looked down on him.
"What."
"You have just been handed an agent's dream assignment, yet you are not very happy about it."
"I don't like babysitting witnesses."
"I wouldn't call staying in the same house with Chantal Payne babysitting. She might teach you a thing or two that you don't already know."
Tony had heard enough and abruptly left, leaving them standing and staring at one another.
****************************************8
Gibbs walked into Autopsy expecting to see Ducky, but the place was deserted. There were no bodies on the tables, no Dr. Mallard pontificating on some remotely connected story, and no Palmer. He loitered around a tray of stainless steels utensils. Tools of the trade. He was holding one in his hand when the stainless steel door opened.
"Ah, Jethro, I didn't expect to see you here. I have already sent Mr. Palmer to delivery my reports. If I knew you were coming to pick them up, I would have kept them."
"I'm not here for that, Duck."
"Well then, what can I do for you today?"
Gibbs set the knife down and said, "I just had to order Tony to be Chantal Payne's protection detail. And I have a bad feeling about this."
"Ah, your gut's telling you not to."
"Yeah."
"So assign someone else. I overheard Agents Timmons and Perez wishing they had the assignment."
"She specifically chose DiNozzo."
"The curse of being an extremely handsome and available young man. I wouldn't know anything about that," he added, hoping to lighten the mood.
"She said she won't testify against Bowers if he isn't the one protecting her. There's something," he paused, finding the right word. Giving up, he said, "There's something not right about it."
"You think the witness is extorting a couple nights alone with our Anthony in exchange for her testimony. Let me ask you this: Would you do the same if a witness had requested Ziva?"
The sliding doors opened and Tony hurried in. "Ducky—" he stopped short upon seeing his boss. "Oh, I didn't expect to see you here. I'm down here because…I…thought…that I… would get Ducky's report. Is your report finished?"
Ducky smiled at his recovery and said, "Finished AND delivered, I'm sorry, Anthony."
Accepting that, he nodded and backed away, "Not a problem, I'll just go—"
"—Tony," Gibbs said, preventing his exit. "Come here."
In the split second of silence that followed, Tony weighed his options of putting up an argument or simply obeying his boss's request. His body did exactly what his mind didn't want it to do and he found himself standing a few feet from his boss.
"It's out of my hands."
"I don't understand. Just assign someone else to protect her."
"Both Director Vance and Fornell signed off on it. She requested you and, as far as they're concerned, if it will guarantee her testimony, it's you she gets."
Tony wanted to say more, but as was often the case when his boss confronted him, he stood silently. Gibbs realized that his paralysis was a result of a certain upbringing and coaxed him on. "What's on your mind?"
Ducky watched the agent closely. Something was deeply troubling him.
Tony swallowed, trying to articulate his concerns, searching for words or phrases or entire concepts to express himself, but in the end, he said, "Nothing." He turned and left, shoulders stiff from whatever was weighing them down.
Gibbs turned to Dr. Mallard and said, "What do you make of that?"
"He has a good reason, Jethro, but it may be too far buried to reach. And," he pointed out, "if he does manage to reach it, it just might be something better left buried."
*******************************8
Tony and Chantal arrived at the safe house that evening. The two sheriffs escorting them were envious of the duty the NCIS agent had managed to finagle. As far as they were concerned, someone pretty high up must have owed him something pretty big to give him this assignment. He was going to spend two full nights in the company of Chantal Payne. The Chantal Payne! One of them gave Tony a knowing wink while the other clapped him on the back and said, "You lucky bastard."
Tony watched them drive away.
"You haven't said two words to me the whole way here."
He turned around and saw her standing behind him. "We'll be safe here, away from Bowers and anyone he might throw at us. Nobody knows where we are."
She sensed his hesitation, but to her, it added to the challenge.
He avoided staring straight at her even though she was staring straight at him. Just like SHE used to do. And when he would look her way, she would smile, pleasantly, masking her true intentions. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, and she simply smiled.
"I have to secure the perimeter. Stay inside."
Once outside, he took in a deep breath, absorbing the crisp autumn air into his lungs. It felt good. Since his bout with the plague, taking a deep, satisfying breath was sometimes elusive. But not tonight. The sky was clear and the air cool, and it helped to clear his head. Why couldn't he just tell Gibbs his problem? Because Gibbs wouldn't understand. Hell, he barely understood it.
Looking up at the stars, he made a silent vow. He'd manage these next two nights, however difficult they may be. A woman, the likes of Chantal Payne, was not going to get the best of him. Then, when the detail was all over, he would laugh about his fears. And no one would ever be none the wiser. There was one saving grace in this situation. Neither Ziva nor McGee had any idea what was troubling him. It would not set well if either of them was aware of his past.
When he returned to the cabin, she was reading a book. She had changed into a heavier sweater and black yoga pants. It made her seem more human and less…predatory. He shook his head of the image and said, "I'll make us some dinner. I hope you like pizza."
With the exception of two slices, most of the pie sat untouched on the stove. She mused out loud, "I would think a guy like you could eat a whole pizza in one sitting. Yet you've barely eaten one slice."
"Well, usually I can, but I'm not very hungry tonight." He took his plate and her plate to the kitchen and felt her eyes following him the whole way. He dropped the plates in the sink and then tried to prevent a cold wave of anxiety from permeating his body. "I have to check the perimeter again. Don't leave this house."
He was never so thankful to be away from her. He walked around the cabin hoping to ebb the flow of tension that was brewing. This was not a good situation for him, but he didn't know how to get out of it. To do that meant to share a secret that nobody, and he emphasized to himself again, nobody knew anything about, not even his own father. Shaking those thoughts aside, he returned to the porch, thankful that the cabin was exactly as it was the last time he'd checked. The night was cooler, but he didn't feel it. He could see his breath as he breathed, which seemed faster than usual, so he forced himself to take slower, longer breaths. It seemed to help. Returning inside, he noticed she had cleaned the plates and put the food away.
"Thanks, but you didn't have to do that; you're a guest and a very important one."
She seemed pleased with his words and replied, "I don't mind. I was thinking you and I could relax, maybe get to know one another."
He steeled his nerves and plastered on a false smile; he could handle this situation. "Sure. What do you want to know?"
He took the coffee she offered and watched as she sat down on one of two cushioned chairs. She pointed to the empty one and said, "Have a seat. We're not going anywhere."
He did as she suggested, forcing a smile and trying to appear relaxed.
"By now, I guess you know that I requested you?"
"I wouldn't call what you did a request."
"True, but they would have stuck me with some female agent, like that one you work with. David?"
"Dᾰvi︠d."
"Yes, Dᾰvi︠d, and I didn't want that. Nor did I want some wet behind the ears awe struck FBI agent staring me down. Like Socks?"
"Sacks, or as I like to call him, Slacks. I see your point."
"And lastly, I didn't want some computer geek gaining bragging rights for his on-line playmates."
He considered her remark and shrugged. McGee was too much the gentleman to brag, but some of the FBI nerds probably weren't. As he listened, he could hear a hint of sadness in her voice.
Just like her.
But in her line of business, talking was only secondary to her primary work. She was in the business of sex. She sold it, performed it, and made millions off it. And now, if he wasn't careful, she was going to talk her way right into his bed. He stood and walked to the window, feigning to check it. Looking back at her, he stated, "So that just left me to protect you."
"Not exactly." She got up from her chair and approached him. Caressing his arm and shoulder, she cooed, "I knew I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you. But you really surprise me. I can tell you don't want me and that intrigues me. Few men, and when I say few men I really mean zero men, have ever refused me, but I sense that you don't want me. Why?"
He pulled his arm away and answered, "I was hired to protect you, Ms. Payne, not to sleep with you."
"Trust me, no one will care what you and I do together. In fact, if I were a betting girl, I'd bet they're expecting us to do something. You, Agent DiNozzo, are the talk of the agencies right now. And the happier I am, the better witness I can be."
"Are you suggesting that one is tied to the other?"
She stroked his arm again and cooed, "I prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial activity between two consenting adults."
Her words stung in a way he hadn't felt in years, but his body was reacting to her soft caresses and subtle perfume and he was being transported back to a time where this was wrong. Where his mind said no but his body said yes. Where the woman was a friend, trusted and dedicated by day, but by night, another person emerged, teaching him the ways of a world that was far removed from anything he'd ever known. A world where sex was about control and flagellation and pain.
He pulled away, his own brain sending him contradictory signals where all he wanted to do was slam his head against the wall to stop the images from solidifying in his mind's eye. "Go away," he softly pleaded. "Go away."
****************************8
The ringing incorporated itself into his dream and he answered it. But soon he realized that the ringing was real and that a dream wouldn't make it stop. He fumbled for his phone on the coffee table.
"Yeah," Gibbs said, rubbing one hand over his face. He couldn't make out the name before he answered it, but he sensed it was someone important. "Hello?" he repeated, clearing his throat.
Tony had almost hung up, but if he had, Gibbs would have sent the entire Navy to the safe house. Having second thoughts as an agent had better be done before the first ring because hang-ups caused major worry among the higher ups. "Ah…yeah…Boss, it's me, Tony."
Gibbs sat up, "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah—yeah, everything's fine. She's asleep," he said, but he wasn't certain. When he had left the cabin earlier, he hadn't returned, and that was hours ago.
Gibbs waited for more. He checked his watch and finally broke the silence, "It's three in the morning, DiNozzo, what'd'ya want?"
Immediately, he knew it was a mistake and he regretted making the call. "Just checking in, is all. I'll check in again in the morning."
Gibbs sat with the phone to his ear listening to the dead air. Finally he lowered it and wondered what the hell that was all about.
Tony snuck back into the cabin, undetected. She was indeed asleep in the only bed, so he sat in the over-stuffed chair near the window. It was stupid of him to call Gibbs and he chastised himself for it. No harm done, he convinced himself; he'd simply call again in the morning and set things right.
TBC
Any and all comments are greatly appreciated. It helps the creative juices to keep on flowing! Thanks, ~Jasmine