What have you people done to me?
I honestly had no intentions of writing more in this genre but it seems there's something infections about it. After my first foray here I received many requests and this came from one of them. It started as a flash of a scene in my head when I wasn't even expecting it and when I started to write, BOOM, 10000 words in no time flat. I have several chapters complete and will be posting them at regular intervals. So the request was essentially Gibbs MPREG (apparently there is a derth of them out there? IDK, I haven't explored that much) early on in the acquaintance of Tibbs as a post-Baltimore one night stand. So not only is this MPREG but it is FAR more AU than I really care for which makes me wonder if there were subliminal messages in all those reviews and PM's.
Again, what I like is that this genre allows me to focus on the relationship and intimacy development between my two fave characters, a chance to explore their inner angst, etc. And I liked the idea of dealing with Gibbs being the more vulnerable one and having to deal with that.
So, hope you enjoy. As always, I really appreciate any thoughts you have be they positive ones or constructive criticism.
I never use a Beta so all mistakes are mine and I haven't given this my usual 100+ read-overs so there are bound to be some.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS or it's characters!
February
11 weeks
Leroy Jethro Gibbs, former US Marine sniper and most competent and feared Agent NCIS had ever known stared down at the contents of his slightly trembling fist in absolute and utter consternation.
He looked at the instructions again. He really hadn't read them that closely but it didn't seem like an overly complicated process. There was a stick, you pissed on the end of it, you got a result. How hard could that possibly be?
But he had to be reading it wrong, HAD to. Then again, how in the hell did you argue with a little blue plus sign?
Gibbs set the test on the counter top and sat down on the toilet, a little afraid his knees were going to buckle from shock.
He'd know.
In his GUT, he'd known.
But that didn't mean he had been prepared.
It had started a month or so ago with the coffee. The first time he'd noticed that his morning brew tasted a little off, he'd chalked it up to the vendor changing beans and bolted it back without a second thought. A week later just the smell of it had brought on a powerful wave of nausea that he'd attributed to skipping his usual Danish, but every day after seemed to be a repeat. Coffee suddenly equaled the nearly overpowering urge to violently empty his stomach and he had been reduced to staring longingly at the lidded container on his desk while his belly churned and his head pounded. It was only by sheer force of stubborn will that he hadn't actually gotten sick but for weeks he'd lived with a near constant state of vague nausea that only abated on a full stomach.
That in combination with his sudden and absolute intolerance for his favorite Bourbon should have been enough to clue him in, but his life was like his vision and he was far sighted, unable to see clearly those things which were right in front of his face.
Suspecting that his bad eating habits, sleeping habits, and years of liver abuse were finally catching up to him in his old age, he became more careful about what he ate, traded in his nightly love affair with colored liquor for the occasional beer and found that if he had a good solid breakfast before leaving the house, his belly wasn't nearly so touchy. He still couldn't do coffee on an empty stomach and just looking at the untouched bottle in his basement made him queasy but after a few weeks, the daily feelings of nausea had passed and he felt like himself again with the exception of being a little more tired than usual.
Attributing his fatigue to a heavier than usual workload with DiNozzo still spending most of his time at FLETC, he'd gone on with business as usual until this morning when he had noticed the undeniable swelling in his lower abdomen, the swelling which was definitely not an acquired layer of fat but rather hard muscle bowing outward, and had just known. He was a trained investigator and even he could no longer deny the evidence when it was right there in the mirror bulging out rather accusingly at him. That being said, he'd still gone out to buy the pregnancy test just to prove to himself that he wasn't insane.
Of course he hadn't been wrong but the reality of it now left him awash in a swirling eddy of conflicting emotion.
He was too old for this.
In his head he knew that wasn't really true. Men typically stayed fertile well into their 50's and most could have perfectly healthy pregnancies in their late 40's.
But it couldn't be happening to him.
Except that it was.
That kid.
That damn kid in Baltimore. The one he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of. The one who had fascinated him beyond all rational explanation. The one who was currently riding a desk across the bullpen from him every day at his own invitation.
DiNozzo.
Fuck.
He'd always been so careful. Really there'd only been a handful of times with other men and even then he wasn't usually on the receiving end. But there had been something about Tony that made him crave, made him want in ways he'd never experienced before.
And he'd fucked up.
He reached down and probed his taut belly, still firm at age 42. Unfortunately it was the new firmness, the little bump just above his pubic bone that kept drawing his fingers back.
Doing a little math, he realized he was very close to three months gone already and that the almost unnoticeable swell of his pregnancy shouldn't be surprising. He took a breath and forced his stomach out, trying to imagine himself big and round and pregnant but the reality of it was still a little fuzzy.
What he knew was that the moment the possibility had even occurred to him, the second the little blue plus sign had begun to materialize in front of his eyes, he'd felt a glimmer of something inside of himself that had been absent so long in his life he almost didn't recognize it.
He felt hope.
And along with hope came the inevitable gnawing edge of fear. But ultimately, mistake or not, unplanned as it was, Jethro realized he was undeniably happy about this world altering development in his life and felt an instant surge of protectiveness for the life now growing inside of him.
He didn't want to try to wrap his head around the myriad of ramifications his condition was going to have on his life, not just now. He looked down at his stomach in disbelief and wrapped both arms around it lovingly, letting the smile that had been playing at the corners of his mouth finally take hold as he began to laugh.
"Hey in there," he said tenderly to his little bump as he rubbed circles across his skin. "Aren't you a surprise?"
He knew he was going to have to make an appointment to be seen to make sure that everything was normal and that the baby-oh God, his baby-was healthy and he promised himself to do it as soon as possible despite his general dislike for most doctors. "You just stay happy in there for the next six months, okay? I'll figure out the rest."
Still feeling a little shaky, he pushed himself up and walked out of the bathroom, blinking as he looked around his living room like he was seeing it for the first time. He took a deep breath. "I'm havin' a baby," he said out loud to the emptiness of the house, needing it to be heard, needing the reality of those words.
"I'm havin' a baby," he whispered to the emptiness inside, letting the words fill and swell the barren places in his heart.
Newly minted Probationary NCIS Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. gazed across the bullpen at the empty desks. It wasn't like Gibbs to run late. Not that he was late, exactly. He just wasn't his usual hour and a half early.
He'd questioned the knowing and sympathetic looks he'd gotten from other agents as soon as he'd been shown to his desk across from Gibbs'. It hadn't taken long to learn that Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs had a way of running through seasoned as well as probationary agents faster than new ones could be found to replace them. This explained the currently barren desks that occupied the other space in his immediate area.
Turned out his new boss had a bit of a reputation for being hard to work for. At least this status was balanced by the immense respect everyone he encountered seemed to have for Gibbs' abilities as an agent. Tony was the newest in a long string of probies for Gibbs but he was happy to learn that he was the first one who had been handpicked by the man himself.
The current agent pool had him at 3-1 odds of making it six months which he was assured were much better odds than any agent before him had been given.
He wondered what his co-workers would say if they knew his apparent fear of his new boss was mostly on the surface. That he'd seen a side of Gibbs they could never even imagine. He wondered how they would look at him if they knew he'd spent the most erotic weekend of his life with the salt and pepper tyrant of NCIS, had seen him fucked out and sated atop crisp white sheets and lost himself countless times to the delicious pounding of the older man's hips against his ass.
But he would have to keep wondering. He had as much invested in keeping that particular part of their relationship a secret as Gibbs did and he understood the impact it would have on his fragile new career if it ever came out that they had been lovers, even for that brief time. As far as both he and Jethro were concerned it was regrettably in their past. It didn't stop Tony from remembering it fondly or imagining Gibbs naked at extremely inopportune moments, but for good or ill it was over and his lips were sealed.
"Grab your gear."
Tony's head came up from the weighty volume of procedures he was trying desperately to focus on.
"Boss?" he questioned.
"DiNozzo, when I say 'Grab your gear,' ya just do it. Don't ask questions," Gibbs said with as much patience as he could muster.
"On it, Boss." He wasn't sure where the phrase came from, but it seemed fitting and it seemed to pacify Gibbs as he tossed his bag over his shoulder.
"That's more like it."
Jethro had been half-glad for the call about a Naval Lieutenant killed in what looked like a bar fight off base the previous night. His body had been found in an alley in the District and he and DiNozzo were needed at the scene. He wasn't happy about the dead officer but at least it gave him something to distract his brain for a little while he figured out what to do about Tony. His new probie and the father of his unborn child was the most difficult part of the whole equation as far as he was concerned.
For his part, Tony was just glad to be getting away from a desk. He'd always been better in the field but with all of his FLETC training courses and the seemingly unending pile of NCIS procedural manuals to memorize, he'd had only a few chances to do any actual work and his brain was on already on overload. He'd thought that being a cop would set him ahead of the game at FLETC but half the trainees in his classes were cops, good ones at that, and he'd had to unlearn more bad habits than he was prepared to admit to.
Gibbs filled Tony in on the details he knew as they drove.
"Ducky on his way too?" It had taken Tony a little while to get used to using the name and yet "Doctor" and "Mallard" had just felt plain awkward when he'd tried to apply them.
"Following in the van."
"Skip breakfast this morning, Gibbs?" Tony asked as he watched his boss rub idly at the bottom of his stomach while they drove.
"What? No."
"Sorry. It's just, saw this," he imitated the motion," and thought you might be hungry. I know I could use some grub."
"Breakfast on your own time, DiNozzo."
"Got it." Tony added it to the seemingly exhaustive list of things he had to know to survive Gibbs.
Jethro made a mental note to try and keep his hands off his belly. It was just now that he knew, a part of his brain was constantly focused on the child inside, hyper aware that his gut was sticking out a few centimeters more than usual.
As they pulled up to the scene, the milling crowd of gawkers being held at bay by the Metro PD parted obligingly. Flashing their badges, they saw that Ducky and the van had actually arrived ahead of them and the medical examiner was waiting for the scene to be cleared before he moved in to process the body.
"You waiting for an invitation, DiNozzo? Or do I need to coach you through crime scene processing too?" Gibbs pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and slipped them on.
"I, uh, think I got this one, Boss." He pulled the camera bag from the back of the van as well as an evidence kit and began working the scene methodically. This was certainly an area he was comfortable with. Surely his scene skills would earn him some rare praise from his stoic leader.
"Let's get a look at the body, Ducky." He followed the doctor over to the cordoned off area where a tarp covered what he assumed was their victim.
"Who found him?" Gibbs asked the local LEO standing guard.
"Bar owner. Says he parks in the alley out back of his place to do paperwork in the morning, saw the body hanging half out of the dumpster. Thought it was some homeless drunk passed out until he pulled on a pant leg and he landed there." He pointed to the tarp. "Found his tags right away so we called NCIS. Sorry to say he's not looking too pretty."
"They rarely do," Gibbs snapped his notebook shut. "Probie," he called, waving the younger man over, "dumpster."
Tony tried to hide his grimace. "Figures," he muttered.
"Problem, probie?" He managed to suppress his grin.
"Absolutely not, Boss. I love trash. Trash is my life." He almost succeeded in making it sound sincere as he trotted up to the container.
"What do we have, Ducky?" Jethro turned to where the ME had pealed back the tarp to examine their victim. His stomach gave an unfamiliar lurch at the sight of the young officer's clearly misshapen head and the bits of what appeared to be brain matter clinging to the edges of a gaping exit wound in the side of his skull. The noises around him suddenly seemed very distant and there was a faint buzzing in his ears.
"I'll have to examine him, of course, but initial cause of death appears to be a bullet wound to the right temporal lobe and…Gibbs? Jethro, are you alright, you look a little…"
The last thing he remembered before the world went black was the feeling of strong arms wrapping around him and the fading sound of Ducky's voice.
"Jethro?"
Something acrid wafted up his nostrils and he gagged as he opened his eyes. Ducky's face hovered inches above his and was painted with deep concern.
"Ah, glad you could come back and join us, Jethro. Are you alright?"
"What happened?" There was something warm and familiar beneath his head.
"I do believe you passed out, Gibbs. It's a good thing I keep some smelling salts in my bag for trainees. Agent DiNozzo here was fast on his feet and got an arm around you before you crashed. You can thank him for the lack of bruises later."
"Told you we should have stopped for breakfast." DiNozzo's voice was closer than he thought it should have been.
There was a bright light in his eyes and the feeling of Ducky's fingers at his wrist measuring his pulse. He turned to the side and realized the warmth beneath his head was that of Tony's thighs and he groaned as he immediately struggled to sit up.
"Just stay still, Jethro. I think you're fine, likely just a sudden drop in blood pressure, but it's not like you to get wobbly at the sight of blood. Anything I should know about? Chest pain, muscle weakness?" Ducky continued to prod him.
"I'm fine, Ducky. Just skipped breakfast this morning." He tried to play it down. The last thing he wanted was Ducky asking too many questions in front of DiNozzo.
The ME didn't seem like he was completely appeased. "Agent DiNozzo, there is a banana in my bag back in the van. Will you help me sit him up and then fetch it for me?" he asked.
"I don't need to be coddled, Ducky. I'm fine." But as he sat up the world still felt a little spinny and he had to steady himself with his hands on the ground. He took deep breaths as Ducky continued to measure his pulse until he heard Tony trotting back up to them.
"Here you go, Boss."
There was a look of sincere worry in his eyes and Jethro felt an unexplainable wave of guilt. Tony had even peeled the banana for him and he took it grudgingly from the younger man's hands. "Don't you have a scene to process?" It sounded a little more snappish than he had meant it to.
"I'm sorry, I was busy keeping your head from smacking into the pavement." His eyes widened as he realized he said the words out loud. "I mean…yeah. I'll just be over here…not worrying about you, Boss." He picked up the camera from where he had set it on the ground and started to walk away.
"Tony," Gibbs called to the younger man's back, saw the look of relief bloom in his eyes when he turned around at Jethro's use of the familiar. "Thank you."
DiNozzo grinned and went back to bagging and tagging with a little more enthusiasm.
"You may be off the hook with young DiNozzo there, but you've still got me to answer to, Jethro. Is there something going on with you I should know about? We've known each other a long time and in all those years I've never known you to get faint no matter how gruesome the scene, even on an empty stomach."
It was clear the ME would not be put off by the excuse of missing breakfast. "Not here, Ducky, okay?" he said softly.
Ducky studied him for a moment, his face puzzled and curious. "If you say so, Gibbs. Think you're ready to get on your feet? We'll take it nice and slow."
Jethro was feeling a little better now after eating and the alley seemed more in focus. He let the ME take his elbow and hoist him to his feet. A few sparks swam in front of his eyes but dissipated as he stood with Ducky supporting him. He glanced in the direction of their victim and felt his stomach turn again, not quite so violently as before. "Think I'd better sit this one out, Duck," he said reluctantly.
"I'll walk you to the car." It was more of a demand than an offer.
Jethro nodded and then called to DiNozzo. "Show me what you got, probie."
The younger man's eyes lit up. "Won't let you down, Boss."
"Miss anything and you're fired." He let Ducky hold his elbow as they walked the short distance to the car. He felt like a damn invalid as he slid into the passenger's seat and leaned his head back gratefully. He could feel the sugar working its way into his system but he was suddenly exhausted.
"Out with it, Jethro. I get the sense you know more about what's going on here than I do and I'll admit, you have me a little worried." Ducky had gone around the driver's side and slid behind the wheel.
"Pregnant." The word just came out and he realized he had been aching to tell someone else since the moment he knew. As if another's acknowledgement of the baby in his belly made it all the more real.
"I'm sorry, did you say you're…"
"Pregnant. Yeah."
"Oh, Jethro." The hitch in the older man's voice was unmistakable. "Why that's…that's remarkable. I hesitate to ask, but is this good news?"
"I think so." He let his hand wander down to his stomach as Ducky's eyes followed.
"Then I couldn't be happier for you, old friend." He reached a hand out and settled it on top of Jethro's for a moment in awe before the physician in him took over again. "You know, I have a good friend who specializes in male prenatal care. He's quite busy but I can make a call and get you in, that is if you haven't found someone of your own yet," he offered.
"Thanks, Duck. Think I'll take you up on that, actually. This is all still a little new to me too," he said gratefully, happy it was one less thing he would have to worry about. "Do me a favor and keep an eye on DiNozzo?"
"Of course. He's quite an impressive young agent, Jethro. You always did have a good eye."
Gibbs tried to decide if there was something more behind the words. "I know he is, Duck. Best I've seen in a long time. Just don't let him know it or we'll never get his head back through the doors."
The older man smiled at him in tacit agreement. "Feeling any better?" he asked.
"Yeah, actually. Gonna stay here another minute or two and then get some statements. Think I really did just need to eat something. Guess I'm just going to have to start keeping a stash of snacks," he sighed.
"Ah, the joys of pregnancy, dear boy. So much to look forward to. Sadly I was never fortunate enough to know them myself. " He patted Gibbs' shoulder and eased out of the car before ducking his head back in. "Congratulations, Jethro."
Gibbs held his eyes for a moment. "Thanks for not asking, Duck."
"Oh, I expect answers, Jethro, but I assume you'll give them when you're ready. For now, your secret is safe with me, provided you start taking care of yourself and take the necessary steps sooner rather than later."
"Not takin' any chances. You have my word on that," he said sincerely and the ME seemed satisfied.
"Then I shall go attend to our unfortunate victim and Agent DiNozzo." He nodded his dismissal and headed back up the alley.
Jethro relaxed back against the seat and closed his eyes, fairly certain he had just signed up for six months of babysitting from the one man who now knew that he was carrying around an extra passenger.
