"Go home, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he stood.

"Just have to finish this report."

"Finish in the morning."

Tony opened his mouth to argue, but he was exhausted. The team had just wrapped up a big case and truth be told, anything he did tonight would be total garbage, anyway. He stretched and started toward the men's room.

"Where ya goin?"

It could wait; Gibbs clearly wanted to talk. "Home, I guess," he replied before grabbing his backpack and following the marine to the elevator. Tony was scanning texts he missed throughout the day when the lights shut off and the cab shuddered to a halt. He shoved his phone in his pocket and looked over at Gibbs. "Yeah, boss?"

He shrugged "wasn't me."

Tony pulled his phone out again and tried to dial McGee, but the signal never picked up. He took a deep breath and tightly pressed his legs together. Shouldn't've waited.

Gibbs violently jabbed at the numbers on his phone. "The hell's wrong with this thing?"

"I think the lines are down," he replied, stifling a groan.

Gibbs dropped his cell in his pocket and sighed.

Tony slid down the wall. His mind racing as he ran his fingers through his hair.

There was a knock outside. "Hello? Anyone in there?"

"Me and DiNozzo. What's goin' on, Leon?"

"Storm caused a surge and the power's out everywhere. Repair crews are starting with hospitals. Gibbs, I hate to tell you this, but you're stopped between floors."

Tony groaned and buried his head in his hands.

"How long?" Gibbs asked, glancing at his senior field agent.

"Anywhere between six and twelve hours."

"Okay."

"I can't do much for you out here. But if anything changes, yell. I'll hear you."

"Yep." He sat down next to Tony and closed his eyes. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to sleep. Just as he dozed off, Tony shifted position and shook the cab. After a few minutes, Gibbs gave up on his nap. It wasn't the fidgeting itself that was bothering him, it was the reason behind it. "Got somewhere to be?"

Tony wracked his mind for something to say. "I've been talking to this smokin' blonde. She's really into fishing and woodworking, actually. You'd love her, boss."

Gibbs gave him a look.

"We'd talked about grabbing drinks tonight. But with the storm, I didn't really think we'd get there."

Gibbs saw through Tony's story in a heartbeat. He did hand it to him, the senior field agent hadn't lied.

Talking to Gibbs was helping Tony forget about how badly he had to pee. But being plunged back into silence made his bladder complain tenfold. "So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?" Getting his boss to say more than three words was a feat, but he desperately needed the distraction.

Gibbs stared back.

"You seemed like you really wanted to get me into the elevator... I figured you had something to tell me?"

"Nope."

Tony dropped it. The minutes ticked by in painfully slow succession. His bladder was throbbing. Sixth cup of coffee was a mistake. He made a pained noise between a sigh and a yelp as he stood. Not being curled up briefly relieved some of the pressure. Tony rocked ever so slightly from foot to foot, trying to not shake the elevator.

"Pick a corner," Gibbs mumbled from the floor.

"I'm fine," he replied softly, hoping his boss would drop it. He surreptitiously checked the marine's watch. They'd been trapped for two hours. His hands itched to sneak between his legs and offer his straining muscles another means of protection. He fought the urge, knowing he couldn't face his boss after holding himself like a child.

Gibbs closed his eyes, trying to ignore Tony's fidgeting. He eventually drifted to sleep.

Without conversation as a distraction, Tony took to pacing. You're stronger than this, he thought. His father's words echoed through his mind: 'DiNozzo's don't wet their pants.' He hissed as a jet of urine dampened his boxers. Never have been a good DiNozzo, have you? He thought. Tony surveyed the damage; nothing visible. He pressed his legs together, tightly, and leaned against the wall. Sweat slithered down his back as bile rose in his throat. He forced himself to swallow it. It's just nerves, you're okay, Tony told himself. They'll get the elevator open. His bladder's throbbing increased, bringing a new wave of nausea. He had to fight the desire to curl up.

Gibbs looked over at his agent. Tony was clearly desperate, but too damn proud to piss in the corner of a broken-down elevator. He remembered Kelly having the same look on her face moments before wetting her pants in the middle of the diner. She refused to go back for weeks, insisting 'daddy's cooking is just so much better.' After a month, Gibbs decided to tackle it head on. He knelt in front of her. "No one's gonna be mean to you, kiddo, it was just an accident."

She furrowed her brow. "But they all saw me and I looked like a baby."

"It could happen to anyone."

"Not you."

"Even me, Kelly."

Her eyes widened. "What happened?"

"I waited too long, just like you." He left out the parts about being tied up and tortured.

"But you don't wait too long anymore," she pouted.

"I've had a little more practice," he smiled, gently touching her cheek.

She leaned into his hand. "Okay."

"So what d'ya say. Can we go back to the diner?"

"Can I get fries?"

He laughed. "Sure."

"Then, yes, we can!" She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his neck. The memory faded and the marine caught his agent trying to check the time. Again.

Tony stole another glance at Gibbs' watch. Only a half-hour had passed. He swallowed a sigh. Sharp pain radiated through his body. Tony doubled over, bracing his shoulder against the wall for extra support. He groaned. His stomach churned angrily and for a horrible moment, he thought he was going to puke.

Gibbs pulled himself to his feet. "Dammit! Pick a corner, DiNozzo. That's an order."

Tony didn't move; he couldn't. He wasn't even sure he could piss if he wanted to. His abdomen was in aching, tight knots. Tears collected in his eyes as he held his sides. The pressure in his body was unbearable.

"Tony?"

Time slowed. Tony felt his muscles seize up before relaxing. A hot torrent of piss cascaded down his legs, pooling on the carpet beneath him. He moaned as relief entwined with the pain; the blend was almost orgasmic.

Gibbs stepped back as his agent's pants soaked through in seconds. Tony's body sagged against the wall in relief while the puddle spread across the carpet. He stepped out of range and waited patiently as his agent relived himself.

Tony's stream was still going strong as the bliss melted into panic. He was full-on wetting himself in front of his boss- the man who, minutes ago, had /ordered/ him to pick a corner and avoid the mess. He felt the flush creep up his neck and spread through his cheeks. This hiss of urine was defeating as he tried to staunch the flow. But his muscles were too weak to be of help and he stared at the wall as he helplessly voided his bladder. Finally, it dwindled to a slow leak.

He could feel Gibbs' eyes on his back as he straightened up. "I should've picked a corner," Tony said. He aimed for it to be a joke, but his voice came out too high and choked. A warm hand squeezed his shoulder.

"You okay?"

He stayed facing away in a weak attempt to not embarrass himself further. Somehow it was better if Gibbs didn't see his wet pants. "Not really, Boss."

"Coulda happened to anyone, Tony."

The kindness in Gibbs' voice nearly made him cry. He half-expected his boss to act as though nothing happened. Tony rarely anticipated gentleness from the marine. He shifted uncomfortably as most of the piss had cooled and his legs were starting to itch.

"Take off your pants."

"What?"

"Off," Gibbs ordered. He did thorough research on every member of his team. His investigation of Tony had turned up some horrific incidents bordering on child abuse. One of which was an accident Tony had in third grade: the school called Senior to bring his son a change of clothes. The man responded, 'make him stay in it, teach the kid a lesson.' Gibbs wasn't about to make his senior field agent relive that hell. He was careful to keep his expression relaxed as he waited for his agent to do as told.

Tony peeled off the sodden material. He draped his pants over the handrail, careful to not let them drag in the puddle. Not that it really mattered now. It felt good to be out of 'em. Leaning against the wall, he looked at Gibbs.

The marine had his arms crossed over his chest, back pressed against the side of the elevator. "Yeah?"

"This is kinda weird, Boss. Even for working here," he said, looking at his bare legs.

Gibbs shrugged.

Tony started considering what he would do were the situation reversed. He didn't get very far. But it wouldn't be reversed because 1. Gibbs is a marine and has a goddamn steel bladder and 2. He would've taken his own advice. Tony felt a small trickle dribble into his boxers. "Dammit," he whispered.

Gibbs glanced over, eyebrows raised with intrigue.

No point in lying. He gestured at the still-glistening wet spot. "I can't stop. I literally can't stop." Tony's heart raced. Did I do permanent damage? "I… I'm still pissing myself."

"DiNozzo, give it time. And have Duck look at you when we get outta here."

"Boss..." he wanted to argue but the man's glare silenced him. A small puddle was growing at his feet. He stepped closer to the larger puddle, away from Gibbs.

"I don't bite," the marine said softly, staring at the ceiling.

"But I leak," Tony replied, smirking. His heart wasn't in it, but it was a start.

Gibbs smiled and shook his head. "You think I care? C'mon," he said, gesturing next to him. He'd be damned if he made Tony feel worse; the poor kid had already been through hell.

He leaned on the wall next to his boss, doing the best to ignore the occasional trickle that slithered down his leg. They stood in comfortable silence for another hour and a half; but Tony was starting to get fidgety again.

"How're you doin'?" Gibbs asked.

"I think okay. Haven't leaked in a while."

"Told ya."

It was both good and bad. Good, his muscles were working properly again. Bad because they were extremely weak and fragile. He knew they wouldn't take much of a strain and he could already feel the pressure growing. Fuck.

Gibbs watched as Tony pressed his legs together. "Just piss, DiNozzo."

"Don't need to. I'm fine." He felt like a child again, promising his father he would be okay despite having already leaked in his boxers. Senior didn't seem to understand that kids had tiny bladders and sometimes accidents happened. For years, Tony avoided drinking anything before leaving the house with his father. It worked until the doctor said he was severely dehydrated and instructed him to drink one cup of water per two hours. Cue frequent, urgent trips to the bathroom- it was a lot for a third grader. Hell, it'd be a lot now, Tony thought. His heart was racing. He knew he couldn't last much longer.

Gibbs sighed. He wasn't about to let Tony wet himself again. The marine gave him a pointed, expectant stare.

"We've only been here for, like, four hours. Stakeouts are longer than this," Tony whined, hating how weak he sounded. "And there would be a thermos," he added quietly.

"Floor's already wet. Can't get worse."

Tony sighed. He walked the few steps to the corner farthest from Gibbs. Standing with his cock in hand, aiming at the floor, he couldn't go. It felt wrong- shit, it was wrong. Tony closed his eyes, thinking of waterfalls. It wasn't working. His bladder was starting to hurt and he stifled a whine. Eyes still closed, he tried to picture a urinal in front of him. Tony was shocked when piss sputtered out of his dick, splashing on the already saturated carpet. When he finished, he tucked himself back in his boxers and rejoined the marine. "I'm sorry."

"Rule 6."

"Boss, if you haven't noticed, I'm pretty weak right now." He hung his head.

"Tony," Gibbs started gently, "You don't need to apologize for takin a leak. Look at me. I'm not gonna make fun of you."

"Senior used to." The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he said.

"I know."

That surprised him, though, it shouldn't have. He knew Gibbs did his homework- and rarely went about it in fully legal ways. Tony connected the dots—his boss knew about his past—all of it. "Thanks… for everything."

Gibbs nodded slightly and they fell back into companionable silence.

It was broken two hours later when footsteps echoed across the top of the elevator. Tony quickly slipped his pants back on. They smelled strongly of stale urine and crunched against his skin as he moved. He grimaced as the escape hatch opened.

"Hey!" A repairman called down. "You two okay?"

"We're fine," Gibbs replied.

"I'll throw a ladder down to you guys. We've got the box stabilized and you're close enough to the upper floor to climb out." True to his word, a rope ladder snaked down to them.

Gibbs stepped onto the bottom rung.

"Boss?"

He paused, looking Tony in the eyes.

"I'm glad it was you." He smiled a thin-lipped smile.

Gibbs returned it before pulling himself up to the next rung.

Tony followed close behind. Even though he had just taken a leak twenty minutes prior, his bladder was already screaming for another release. Just a little longer.

Gibbs stood in front of Tony as he stepped onto the floor. "Leon," he greeted.

"Gibbs, are you and Agent DiNozzo all right?"

"Fine, have you heard from McGee and Bishop?"

"They showed up here not long after the power outage. I sent them up to my office along with Ms. Sciuto and Dr. Mallard. They're worried."

Once he knew the team was okay, Tony slipped away to the men's room. Standing in front of the urinal, he fumbled with the button on his pants. He was already starting to leak. Fuck it. Tony barely shoved his clothes out of the way before losing all control. He sagged in relief as urine splattered against the porcelain.

Gibbs quietly stepped into the men's room. He saw the droop of Tony's shoulders, the way they rose and fell with ragged breaths. He almost didn't make it, the marine thought. He was genuinely concerned about the damage the agent had done to his bladder. As the younger man zipped his pants, Gibbs cleared his throat.

Tony practically jumped out of his skin. "Boss."

Gibbs held up Tony's go-bag. "Thought you might want this."

"Thanks!" He grabbed it and raced into a stall.

"We're going down to autopsy when you're dressed."

His heart sank, he didn't want to go see Ducky. I'm fine, he wanted to argue—but Gibbs had made up his mind. Tony's hands shook as he slipped off his clothes, letting them drop to the bathroom floor. He pulled on a pair of fresh boxers. The clean cotton felt good, even against his grimy skin. A shower sounded heavenly, but Gibbs was anxious to get him to Ducky—granting him the time to change was a lot. Tony fastened his belt and tucked in the fresh shirt before opening the stall door.

"C'mon," the marine said impatiently, heading toward the stairs.

Tony quickened his pace to catch up. He took the stairs two at a time. Gibbs was leaning against the doorframe by the time he was all the way down. Panting, he smiled warily at his boss.

Gibbs gestured for Tony to go in and followed close behind, just incase his agent got any ideas.

"Ah, Anthony, I've been expecting you. Have a seat," Ducky said, lightly patting an exam table.

Tony cautiously walked over, surveying the room. He noticed a light odor of urine still clung to his skin and frowned.

"You needn't worry, I told Mr. Palmer to stay home today."

He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat on the cool metal.

Gibbs stayed against the back wall, watching as Ducky conducted his examination. He kept his expression impassive, but his thoughts were racing. The marine knew he couldn't let him go home alone— DiNozzo's beating himself up enough as is. He ached to repair at least some of the damage Senior had done.

Tony was grateful Gibbs stuck around. Not that he didn't trust Ducky, but it was comforting to see the man wasn't abandoning him. I would abandon me. "Ow," he muttered as the doctor poked him in a particularly sensitive spot.

Gibbs started, but quickly resumed his post.

Ducky concluded his examination with a gentle pat on Tony's shoulder. "You put quite a strain on your bladder, but no permanent damage done. Just take it easy these next couple days, Anthony. Don't wait too long."

Tony nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His face burned a deep red as he finished tucking his shirt back in. It didn't matter that Ducky was a professional, he was beyond mortified. And to make matters worse, his bladder was starting to hurt again.

"Thanks, doc," Gibbs said. "You're with me, DiNozzo."

"Boss, I really just want to go home and take a shower."

"Last I checked, my place had hot running water."

Tony sighed and followed his boss out to his truck. He climbed in the passenger side and the movement caused him to leak a little in his boxers. He cursed under his breath. Fortunately, Gibbs hadn't quite gotten his own door open. I would've been done for if he heard that. Tony was exhausted. He meant what he'd said. He just wanted a hot shower—and maybe to curl up in a ball and try to disappear. The gravity of the day was starting to hit him. Being outside of the elevator, talking to Leon, having Ducky examine him—it all made everything real. I pissed myself in front of Gibbs. Fucking Gibbs. He chanced a glance at his boss. The marine was staring at the road, it seemed like his mind was elsewhere. "Boss," Tony started, "I know Rule 6, but I am. I'm sorry you saw me like that. I'm…" He felt like he was six again.

Gibbs pulled over and turned to face him. "Tony, I don't think any less of you. Yeah, ya may be too damn proud to admit you need a piss. But I'm not gonna make fun of you for what happened. Okay?"

"Okay," he said softly.

"Can ya wait until we got home, or do you need to get out now?"

"What?"

Gibbs looked pointedly at Tony's legs, pressed together and bouncing.

"I can wait." Tony stared out the window, trying to distract himself. His eyes closed, and he listened to the purr of the engine as it lulled him to sleep.

Gibbs glanced over, Tony was curled in a ball, one hand between his face and the window, the other firmly pressed between his legs. He hoped the agent would make it the three minutes to the house. Gently, Gibbs accelerated harder, breaking fifteen-over. He swerved around fallen trees and abandoned vehicles. Storm did a helluva lot. He swung the truck into his driveway, easing to a stop. "Tony," he said, putting a light hand on the agent's shoulder.

He jumped.

"We're here." Gibbs got out and walked around to the passenger side. Tony was still curled in a ball, but wasn't leaning on the door anymore. Gibbs pulled it open. "C'mon." He noticed a wet stain creeping around the hand between his agent's legs as DiNozzo slid out of the truck. He guided Tony toward the bathroom. "Almost there. Hang on," he said as they made it through the door.

Not waiting for Gibbs to leave, he tugged his pants down to mid-thigh and aimed for the bowl. Tony relaxed as he heard his stream hit the water. While washing his hands, he made eye-contact with Gibbs in the mirror. Tony expected his boss to be mad—he'd said he could make it home; he'd let his damn pride get in the way again. "Maybe I shouldn't go to work for a couple days," he said softly, his face turning red.

The marine returned the look but remained silent. The normally hard glare had softened considerably.

His eyes traveled down to the spot on his pants. He sighed, not having the energy anymore to care. Hell, his face couldn't get much redder. A gentle hand closed around his shoulder. He turned to face the marine. "Boss…" His voice cracked.

Gibbs pulled Tony into a hug, gently rubbing his back. He felt his agent's body shudder with a silent sob as his grip tightened. "It's okay, it's okay."