The Bodyguard

by Rose Malmaison

College-age Tony meets Gibbs in 1991 and years later the man's still guarding his body. Alternating past and present (2010) stories. Slash Gibbs/DiNozzo, Angst, Romance, First Time, Established Relationship, Over the Years, Episode Tags. August 2016, I revised last few chapters, and wrote a conclusion. NOW COMPLETE!

1. Chapter 1

The Bodyguard
by Rose Malmaison

Pairing: DiNozzo/Gibbs
Genre: Slash
Episode Tags: Pre-show, College Tony, Angst, Romance, First Time, Established Relationship, Over the Years. Light Bondage, Gags (ch. 6)
Rating: FRAO
Warnings: talk of parental physical abuse
Disclaimer: Borrowing the characters for further exploration.
Spoilers: Up to 2011, Season 8, 8x14 - A Man Walks into a Bar

Time Period: The chapters alternate between Tony in college and ten years later, when he is in a relationship with Gibbs.

Status: Complete

Summary: Tony's in college when his father, with no explanation, arranges for a gruff Marine to drive him to New York. Tony rebels at first, but the prospect of a road trip is appealing, and he senses there's more than meets the eye to Gibbs. Their friendship develops into something more as the years progress. This story spans 1991-2011, and alternates between Tony's college years and the NCIS years.

Note 1: I took the chapters that cover Tony in college from this story and edited them into a 6-chapter Gen story for an Ancient's Gate fanzine. That story is called 'Road Trip.' It is posted here at Fanfiction.

Note 2: August 2016. After not wrapping this story up for years, I just revised the last 2 chapters and have concluded it. Now complete!

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The Bodyguard

Chapter 1 - Hitting the Road

Thomas Magnum: Why did I quit the Navy? It wasn't anything earth shattering. I woke up one day, age 33, and realized I'd never been 23.

May, 1991, Columbus, Ohio

The gray-haired man walked right into Tony's rundown one-room apartment as if he owned the place and said curtly, "Call me Gibbs."

Tony looked him up and down, knowing that his slow perusal bordered on being insolent, but he really didn't care. After all, even if the apartment was a dump, it was his dump and this guy was an intruder. The only reason Tony had even opened the door was because he'd received a brief call from Colonel Hargrave's office, warning him of Gibbs' impending visit. Tony hadn't had time to find out what it was all about when Gibbs had showed up, stony-faced and commanding.

At first, Tony found nothing to like about Mr. 'call me Gibbs.' For starters, he was old. He had to be pushing forty from the looks of his cropped gray hair, and there were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that had obviously not been put there by smiling. His clothes were nondescript, right out of the Sears catalog, but even without a uniform, Gibbs had a look about him that clearly indicated he'd recently stepped out of a war zone. Hell, the dude was wound up tight, like he was itching for some hand-to-hand combat; probably had an automatic stuck in the small of his back and a knife hidden behind his belt buckle. The slight limp he had looked like it might be his knee. Wounded in combat? Tony couldn't decide whether Gibbs was a commando or a Marine, but either way, his presence was not welcome.

A closer look revealed that despite Gibbs' military appearance there was something to appreciate, namely his eyes. They were a piercing blue in his tanned face, clear and intelligent, and when Tony looked really hard he thought he could see a touch of wry humor buried deep beneath the icy cold glare that, at the moment, was targeted upon him. Even if the way Gibbs was eyeballing him was a bit disconcerting, Tony stood his ground. He raised his chin and drew himself up to his full height to show that he wasn't afraid, and wasn't about to back down.

Gibbs' smirk, as he pulled out his cell phone and placed a call, told Tony that Gibbs saw right through him. "Colonel? Yes, sir. Got him in my sights," Gibbs said, seemingly amused by whatever he was hearing. "Yeah, I can see that." Gibbs never took his eyes off Tony during the entire time he was on the phone, and it took all of Tony's self-control not to fidget,

Tony did not like that Gibbs was talking about him with the colonel, though Col. Hargrave had always been strict but fair when he'd been Tony's teacher at the Rhode Island Military Academy. Tony remembered the way Hargrave was fond of quoting Hannibal: "We will either find a way or make one."

Sometimes, when things became difficult, like when his dad predicted that Tony would fail miserably without his help and would come running home with his tail between his legs, Tony would remember those words. Nobody could tell him that something was impossible, that it couldn't be done. He'd find another way, create a new set of circumstances, think outside the damned box. Tony figured that if he didn't succeed, it wouldn't be for want of trying.

~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~

The important thing about life, according to Tony's father, was taking control and keeping it, and that applied to everything, including his own son. Tony had been trying to break ties with his father for a while now, but up until the day he left for college he hadn't had much success. Every time he'd thought he was about to get out from under Senior's thumb, and was right on the verge of escaping, good old dad would reel him right back in like a fish on a line. Tony would be the first to admit that it was usually about money, though their fights, some of them physical, were about other things as well. Senior berated Tony for his irresponsible behavior; criticized Tony for having his head in the clouds; insisted that his son put away his silly dreams and plan on majoring in business. Tony could take all of that, but what he hated the most was when things got really heated, Senior would ask God why Mom had to be the one to die in the car crash.

DiNozzo Sr. had barely spoken to his son ever since their big blow-up over Tony's decision to accept Ohio State over a college of his father's choosing. Tony had felt such pride upon receiving a sports scholarship, knowing that all of his hard work had finally paid off, that he threw his achievement in his father's face. It had almost been worth getting the back of his hand to see his dad lose his cool when Tony announced he was going to be a Buckeye.

Telling his dad that he could shove it and then walking (okay, he'd sort of limped) out the door had been one of the most satisfying things Tony had ever done, and just about the scariest, too. His biggest regret was that he'd had to leave his collection of Magnum videos behind along with the rest of his belongings.

It took a while, over a year, but eventually they were back on speaking terms. Tony figured this was a concession his dad made only so he'd be able to hand out advice. Dad was good at that, telling people what to do, disregarding that they usually didn't want it. On the rare occasion that Senior had talked to Tony since he'd headed to college, it had always been by phone. To date, Senior hadn't shown his face at any of the school functions, nor at any of Tony's games. In fact, Tony wasn't sure that his dad even knew where Ohio was on the map.

He'd had been doing pretty well on his own; his grades were good, his social life and sports – and more sports – kept him busy, and he'd had been able to scrape together enough funds to sublet a place of his own place for the summer. Once fall came around, he'd be back in a dorm on campus as a junior. The Alpha Chi Delta frat house had a waiting list a mile long due to its popularity, and Tony didn't expect to get a room there for a while. Some of the frat brothers never got the chance to move in, although they did share the same fraternity privileges.

Tony might be eating little else but soup and noodles, and cadging meals wherever he could, but he was having a damned good time just the same. Now he'd made it through his sophomore year, he had a good job lined up at a big health and sports center for the summer. Of course he hoped to leave a little time in his schedule for fun, and had already secured an open-ended invitation to a frat brother's vacation place on a nearby lake.

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Now, out of the blue, this guy Gibbs appears on his doorstep, with an attitude that clearly said 'his way or no way.' Only Tony DiNozzo was not about to take orders from this man, or from anyone else, for that matter. Nobody was going to ruin his plans, not his father or his hired help.

As soon as he finished talking to Hargrave, Gibbs dialed another number. He spent a couple of minutes listening, making short responses that were no more than neutral grunts, which Tony would bet was annoying the hell out of whoever was on the other end of the line. After a while, Gibbs held out the phone to Tony and said, "Your father. He wants to talk to you."

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands into his armpits. "So what?" He was getting really pissed about everyone – especially this Gibbs guy – telling him what to do, and not even bothering to explain what the hell was going on.

Gibbs' eyes narrowed a little and next thing Tony knew, there was a swat to the back of his head and he found himself clutching the phone in one sweaty hand. Tony glared at Gibbs and rubbed the back of his head. When he paid attention to the voice emanating from the phone, he discovered it was his father. Same as always, Anthony DiNozzo Sr. was telling him what to do.

"You will do everything this man instructs you to do, Anthony. To the letter. Do I make myself clear?"

Tony rolled his eyes, sure that his dad knew exactly what he was doing, even if he was 500 miles away. "Why should I do what he says?"

"Because I tell you to," came the terse response. "Because you're my son and I'm responsible for your wellbeing, whether you like it or not."

Yes, Senior had the irritated-yet-duty-bound dad down pat. Tony waited a beat and then asked, "You want to tell me what he is doing standing here in my place, looking at me like he wants to haul my ass off to the recruiting office to enlist me in the Marines?" When he was seventeen, Tony had casually remarked that he might enlist in the Navy, and DiNozzo Sr.'s flare of temper convinced Tony that he would never again disclose his plans, wishes, or dreams to his dad if he wanted to keep all of his teeth.

There was silence for such a long time that Tony began to wonder if they'd been disconnected, but then Senior said, with uncharacteristic hesitation, "It's not important that you know. Understand that there have been threats and that…I'm taking them seriously. I need time to get this cleared up."

Okay, that didn't sound good. Shit, the old man did business with some disreputable people, and Tony would bet that this was about one of them. Still, Tony protested, "I don't need a babysitter, uh, I mean, a bodyguard, Dad." Tony watched Gibbs almost-smile and wondered what he was thinking. Probably enjoyed watching Tony spar with his father from the sidelines.

After a tense silence, Senior said, as if through gritted teeth, "Just trust me. For once, Anthony, do as I say without damned-well fighting me at every turn."

"What if I don't trust you?" Tony cringed a little at his own temerity and held the phone away from his ear, just in case. He would never have spoken in that manner to his father a year or so ago, and probably wouldn't have questioned him at all, but living on his own had been wonderfully emancipating. Distance made him brave even if the thought of someone coming after him – to kidnap him? for revenge? – made Tony uneasy even if it was unlikely.

"Then trust Gibbs, damn it," DiNozzo barked, and hung up.

Tony handed the phone back to Gibbs. "He says you're my keeper and I should trust you. Lucky you, huh?" He shifted his weight and had a serious look at Gibbs. He certainly looked as though he was up to the job. That he was military was pretty obvious, and not long off the battlefield, if Tony read him right. There were subtle signs of that: hyper-alertness, a tense stance, bottled-up aggression. And something about the eyes that spoke of loneliness, having seen too much death, and something else…something personal that he kept hidden.

Despite himself, Tony was interested in Gibbs, what made him tick. Did he trust him, though? Senior had sought help from Col. Hargrave, and he in turn had assigned Gibbs to be Tony's bodyguard. The colonel was a good man and Tony trusted him, at least.

Tony asked, "You ever see that Tom & Jerry cartoon, from the '40s, when Jerry rescues Spike, the dog, from the dogcatcher, and Spike is so grateful he says he'll be Jerry's bodyguard?" Gibbs's blue eyes didn't waver so Tony continued, "All Jerry has to do is whistle when he needs help, and Spike comes to the rescue. But then Jerry sucks on a sticky candy and when he gets in trouble he can't make a whistle. Things get very hairy for a while."

"You got a point, DiNozzo?"

Gibbs was looking at him expectantly, as if he truly wanted an answer, so Tony decided to be direct. "Look, I can't put my trust in you, Gibbs, because you aren't always going to be around."

"Well, I'm gonna be around for the next few days, so let's see if we can survive that before we make any long-term plans."

Gibbs seemed serious, so after some thought Tony nodded. "Okay, but what's my dad done that I have to turn my life upside down?" He had a pretty good idea what was going on but he wondered if Gibbs knew what DiNozzo Sr. was really all about. People rarely crossed his father, in business or in person, but when they did, it always got ugly. Something bad must be going down for Senior to take such precautions; Tony knew an armed protection detail when he saw it.

When he was a kid he'd thought that everyone's dad had a guy who looked like a club bouncer at his side, watching his six. A few times, Tony had been scooped up by one of his father's employees and taken to some remote location for his safety. One time, in the middle of the night, they took him to a safe house still wearing his Batman PJs. Usually Tony was dumped at a distant relative's home and Dad picked him up a week later, which was fine by him. Once they ended up in a cabin out in the boonies, him and this guy who worked for his father, and they got snowed in. Even now Tony remembered having the time of his life because they'd had a heap of snow overnight and the man, Franco was his name, taught Tony how to ski on a gentle slope out back.

When he was a little boy, Tony had put his ear to enough doors to have some understanding of what his father did for a living, and now, as an adult, he was doing his best to distance himself from that world. It wasn't that he didn't love his father, because he did, even with all the shit that he'd had to deal with while growing up. Senior might be a heavy-handed man who had some questionable – okay, illegal – business practices, but to Tony, he was still his Dad. You can't choose your relatives, after all.

Gibbs was standing there, tight-lipped, so Tony prodded, "Did Senior tell you what's going on?"

Gibbs' expression didn't give anything away when he said curtly, "Not my business."

To Tony, Gibbs didn't seem like the kind of guy who took orders without asking questions. "What is your business, exactly?" Tony persisted. The only response he got was a hooded look that told him to butt out and stop asking so many pesky questions. Tony crossed his arms over his chest and returned Gibbs's glower with one of his own. "Let's be straight here. Mr. Gibbs. You want me to go with you but I don't know you from Adam, and my mom told me to never get into cars with strangers." Tony smiled brightly to make light of his words, but he meant what he said. He wasn't going anywhere with anyone without a good reason. "You have much experience at this kind of thing?"

Gibbs was assessing him again, probably trying to figure out if the kid standing in front of him was jerking his chain or if he really wanted the truth. Tony thought it was funny that he was able to read so much into what was a straightforward, sharp look. Gibbs knew who his father was yet could see that Tony was living in a hole in the wall. He had to be curious, had to have asked about their background if only to know where the danger might be coming from.

Gibbs crossed his arms, too; his gaze didn't waver and neither did Tony's. Finally Gibbs asked, "Experience with taking orders or with being a bodyguard?"

Now he was getting somewhere. "Either," Tony said quickly.

"I've done my share of babysitting cherries," Gibbs said, straight-faced.

A slow smile grew across Tony's face as he read between the lines. "Babysitting…new recruits, right? You're a drill instructor," he stated as if he knew it for a fact.

Gibbs said, almost reluctantly, "Was a drill instructor. Marines."

Yes, Tony DiNozzo gets it in one! "Ahah…I thought there was some DI behind those baby-blues. Oh yeah, R. Lee Ermey in Full Metal Jacket!" Tony quoted, "'I'm Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and the last word out of your filthy sewers will be 'sir'. Do you maggots understand that?'"

"You're wrong," said Gibbs, frowning.

"I'm wrong?"

"I never called any recruit a maggot," said Gibbs.

"You didn't?" Shit, now he'd insulted the man.

Gibbs shook his head solemnly. "No. I called them ass-wipe, puke-head…"

Tony couldn't help grinning at Gibbs' joke, and a couple of seconds later he saw, with delight, that the corner of Gibbs' mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile, and his eyes were sparkling with amusement. Tony was used to dazzling people to get what he wanted - teachers, girls and even people he didn't like at all, but making Gibbs smile seemed like a rare victory. There was something about this man that made him want to smile in return, even if he seemed, at first glance, like a taciturn bastard. Maybe it was because Gibbs was purposely hiding his softer side, a side that Tony wanted to know. Not that anything about Gibbs was even remotely soft. Tony said, "Well, that makes me all the more glad I didn't join up. Verbal abuse at the crack-of-0400 is not at the top of Tony DiNozzo's list of favorite things. So, what's on the agenda, Mr. Gibbs?"

"It's Gibbs, or Gunny. Don't call me mister or sir." Gibbs looked around Tony's small apartment.

Tony wondered what Gibbs was looking for. Apart from the kitchenette, a bed, desk, and a second-hand TV, there were only books, videos and sports equipment in sight. Gibbs' critical once-over made Tony glad he hadn't left his dirty socks and underwear lying around, and that there were only a couple of food-encrusted plates on the floor. "Okay, and you can call me Tony but never call me Junior."

Gibbs nodded. "Grab your gear. Enough for a couple of weeks."

Interested, despite himself, Tony asked, "Road trip?"

"I'm taking you home to New York."

"New York? Wait a minute! I am not going back there. That is not my home any more and I told my dad I wasn't going back after–"

"Hey, calm down!" Gibbs stepped close to Tony, toe-to-toe, serious now. "Let's get this straight. I am not taking orders from your father. I'm escorting you to your aunt and uncle's house in New York because the colonel told me to. What I say is final. You will do exactly as I say; you will do it quickly, and without any hesitation. Got that? There will be no debate. That's rule number twenty."

Tony blinked. "You've got a rule for everything?" He wasn't expecting the resulting glower, and its intensity scared him. Gibbs' jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists, making Tony take a quick step back, hands raised. The dark look on Gibbs face immediately disappeared and was camouflaged with an almost bland expression. Tony had a feeling the man was embarrassed by his reaction. He wondered what he'd said to trigger that kind of anger in the first place, but he said sincerely, "Hey, I'm sorry, man."

For the first time since he'd walked into Tony's apartment, Gibbs didn't meet Tony's eyes when he spoke. "Today, DiNozzo. We've got a long trip ahead of us."

"Wait a minute! I can't just up and leave, Gibbs. I'm starting a new job in a couple of days and I'm not risking losing it because it was really hard to get. My father might have riled up some guy from the old neighborhood but there's no way anyone is going to come all the way out to Ohio to whack me, or whatever Dad thinks is gonna happen. And what's the point of me running towards the danger, if there really is any, which I doubt there is? Anyway, anyone who knows anything about Senior DiNozzo knows he wouldn't give a shit if I ended up in the gutter, so this is all a big waste of time, mine and yours."

Gibbs got right in Tony's face, his eyes sparking with anger. "What part of 'do exactly as I tell you to do without giving me any crap' do you not understand, Junior?"

Gibbs in angry mode was pretty scary. Tony swallowed hard and somehow managed to stand his ground. "And I told you–"

"You told me what?" Tony didn't reply and after a couple of seconds Gibbs burst out with an impatient, "What?"

"Um, I'm waiting for you to finish your sentence, Gunny."

"What the hell're you talking about?"

"You're supposed to say, 'You told me what, ass-wipe?'"

Gibbs glared at Tony for a full ten seconds while Tony sweated, and then the older man asked brusquely, "You jerking my chain, DiNozzo?"

"No, Gunny."

"Huh. You pack and I'll see what I can do about calling your boss. Let him know this is a family emergency." Gibbs eyed Tony, who hadn't moved. "Now what, DiNozzo?"

Tony was surprised that Gibbs would call his boss for him, and he really didn't know what to say, but he collected his wits and got out a quick, "Thank you." Deciding to take Gibbs at his word, Tony started to pack, then turned back to face Gibbs. "Oh, and by the way, I told you not to call me Junior," Tony said firmly.

Gibbs gave a curt nod and said, "Understood."

Tony figured that so long as he was going to his aunt and uncle's home, and not his father's place, he'd go along with Gibbs' plan. His Aunt Margaret – his mother's older sister – had always been welcoming and she had, more than once, offered Tony a safe haven when things had been tough at home. She wouldn't cross Senior openly, but she had always tried to help Tony whenever she was able. It seemed like his uncle was never around, but Aunt Margaret had been the only person to offer a little boy a shoulder to cry on when he missed his mother and he thought that nobody loved him. She'd given him a place to stay whenever he needed it, a haven where nobody asked why he was carrying himself so stiffly or where he'd got those bruises.

Once, someone had anonymously called social services on his father; not that it had done any good because Senior seemed to have everyone in his pocket. But Tony had later wondered if it had been his aunt who had placed that call.

Tony hurriedly packed some clothes and whatever else he'd need for a couple of weeks. He didn't own much so it didn't take him long. His hand hovered over a large paperback sitting on his bedside table.

"What're you reading?"

Gibbs had managed to walk up right behind Tony, and stood so close Tony could feel his breath on the back of his neck. Tony immediately tensed up but as soon as he realized that he did, actually, trust Gibbs enough to let him stand behind him, he relaxed. "It's The Man's Guide to Magnum, P. I. It covers everything in the show - the guns, the team, the babes. Has pictures of the King Kamehameha Club, Magnum and Rick, T. C.'s chopper. It's a Hughes 500D." Tony pointed to the car featured on the cover, his voice softening in a mixture of reverence and envy. "This is Robin Master's car, a Ferrari 308 GTS. Someday…" He glanced up to see Gibbs looking curiously at him. "Sorry," he said, his face heating up.

Gibbs said, "Don't apologize. Nothing wrong with having dreams."

"Is that another rule?" Tony stuffed the book in his bag and did a quick check of his temporary home to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He looked over his shoulder at Gibbs and said, "It's from She Wore a Yellow Ribbon. John Wayne says you should never apologize because it's a sign of weakness."

Gibbs looked a little taken aback. "Yeah. Number six."

"That's what Col. Hargrave used to say. Don't apologize; make it right. You got any more of those rules?" Tony zipped up his bag and when he straightened up and turned around, it was to find Gibbs' eyes were on him. This time Tony couldn't fathom what was going on behind the Marine's mask.

Gibbs seemed to shake himself, and then he replied, "There are about fifty rules. Tell me, why do I get the feeling that I'm gonna be making up a hell of a lot of new rules, just for you, before this little trip is over?"

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