Burning Love by rose_malmaison

Challenge: Reverse Bang 2016 (ncis-bang)
Artist: penumbria_fics
Summary: After returning home from Las Vegas, Gibbs and DiNozzo slowly come to realize that something shocking must have happened to them while they were there.

Genre: slash
Pairing: DiNozzo/Gibbs

Warnings/spoilers: Season 6, SxSW, 6x17, non-consensual drugs
Words: 31,500, 9 chapters
Rated: R/ mature

Betas: Combatcrazy (who makes a great sounding board and listens to all my crazy ideas,) and Jacie (for last-minute, thorough betaing, and by the way, I made a couple of your comments into lines.) I cannot thank you two enough!

Thanks to: penumbria_fics for the extra art, as well as for the art that motivated me to write this story.

Notes:
- Some of the dialog is taken from the episodes and integrated with my own. Small changes have been made to the timeline.
- Some of the ceremony wording was taken from actual ceremonies, found online. Believe me, I never could have thought it all up myself.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

CHAPTER 1

Any Way You Want Me (That's How I Will Be)
~ Elvis song

I'll be a strong as a mountain,
Or weak as a willow tree,
Anyway you want me,
That's how I will be.

Tony stood in the middle of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport's main concourse with their gear at his feet, and watched Gibbs striding towards him, carrying food and drinks on a cardboard tray. Just like Tony, Gibbs was wearing the same jeans and long-sleeved shirt he'd had on since yesterday, when they'd ridden on horseback up, and then back down, the rocky trail leading to Dina Risi's hideaway on Mount Pinos. It had been cold up there, but despite being February, the city was warm, so Gibbs had rolled up his sleeves, exposing his tanned forearms. Tony couldn't help but notice that his boss's jeans were hugging him in all the right places. Rugged and slightly dangerous was a good look on Gibbs, thought Tony, carefully schooling his expression as the man approached.

Tony had been Gibbs-watching pretty much since the moment they met, and over the years he had honed his skills of observation to a fine art. No doubt about it, Gibbs was an attractive man, with his silver hair and piercing blue eyes, but there was more to him than just his looks. The man had attitude, or, as one of Tony's frat brothers liked to say, 'the Big A.' Underneath the gruff exterior, steely glances and sarcastic remarks designed to put you in your place, was a man with a strong conviction that his way was the right way – even if it wasn't. Breaking the rules was a hobby for Gibbs. The Senior Special Agent handled things the way he wanted to, no question about it. Just the same, if Tony didn't agree with the way Gibbs' actions, he'd speak up about any misgivings. Gibbs rarely changed course, but at least he would hear Tony out.

Gibbs might be competitive and single-minded, but Tony didn't think of those as negative qualities, particularly in their line of work. Sure, Gibbs was a bastard, careless of other people's feelings at times; Tony had been on the wrong side of his boss's temper, and had been hurt by him, more times than he cared to remember. Even so, Tony had no doubt that no matter what the situation, he could rely upon Gibbs to watch his back. Gibbs would never leave him behind, would never walk out on him…okay, there was the whole running-off-to-Mexico thing, but there were extenuating circumstances, like having a meltdown and losing the past fifteen years.

Gibbs had taken Tony under his wing at a time when he had sorely needed direction, and Gibbs had taught him far more than investigative methods over the years. He'd been there for Tony during some tough times. Gibbs had been a friend and a mentor – which was a hell of a lot more than anyone else had ever done for him – and in return, Tony was loyal and dedicated to him.

Right from the start, Tony had found Gibbs to be attractive, but… Yes, there was a big but in there, because no way was Tony going to rock the boat, particularly a boat that was being manned by two men. Being secretly crazy about your boss was one thing, but taking it any further? No, no way was Tony going to go there. He couldn't. He couldn't risk losing their friend/colleague/whatever-it-might-be relationship, nor his career, over a short-lived affair. Both of their careers would be in jeopardy if Vance caught wind of even the slightest hint of impropriety. Boning your subordinate was not the kind of off-duty activity that would go over well with the brass.

Tony could just see it though: they'd have hot and heavy sex, the kind that didn't involve kissing on the lips, in one of those unused bedrooms upstairs in Gibbs' house. Gibbs would pound him into the mattress, and come with a satisfied grunt before rolling over and falling asleep. Tony would slip out Gibbs' bed, get dressed quietly downstairs so he didn't wake him, and head home in the cold hours before dawn.

They'd get their rocks off but there'd be no emotions involved, not from Gibbs, anyway. He could handle that, Tony told himself. It would be worth it just to sleep with Gibbs.

It wouldn't be that difficult to hide it, if they were fucking on a regular basis, considering Tony's talent for subterfuge. And Gibbs…well, Gibbs was used to keeping his feelings close to the chest, and he'd never let on what they were up to.

Tony smiled, thinking it might be fun to pull the wool over their colleagues' eyes. Together, he and Gibbs could run rings around them. Nobody would believe that the two senior agents on the MCRT were having wild monkey sex, even if it were going on right under their noses. Ziva would sneer and dismiss any such notion as improbable, and the coding embedded in McGee's brain simply wouldn't let him go there. Ducky might notice if there was a change in their demeanor, but at most he would be to make a sly comment to Gibbs.

Palmer would be the last to catch on, but Abby, she was sharp. It wouldn't be long before she saw through the charade. She'd be thrilled to discover that Tony was hooking up with Gibbs, and she'd have a hard time keeping the news to herself. She'd let it slip to Tim, and next thing you know, Vance would hear rumors, and both he and Gibbs would get called to his office and – that's where Tony's ruminations screeched to a halt.

What the hell was he thinking? There was nothing for anyone to find out because nothing was going to happen. Nobody would find out. Nobody would be embarrassed or outed or fired. And as for Gibbs, if he even caught an inkling of Tony's true feelings for him, he'd surely slap Tony silly in front of the entire NCIS workforce, and then toss him in the Potomac with a growl and a 'Don't ever come back.'

So no. Just no. Nothing would ever happen between them. It couldn't, no matter how much Tony wished it would.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

The past few days, Tony had caught Gibbs frowning at him several times, ever since he'd learned that Tony might be inheriting something from his Uncle Clive.

Uncle Clive Paddington was the older brother of Tony's late mother. Tony remembered his uncle as a generous and sweet man with a serious side, who sometimes drank too much, yet always lived life to the fullest. Clive adored his sister, Elizabeth, and was been deeply saddened by her death years earlier. Clive had loved Tony, too, and had fondly told him how much he resembled his mother.

Clive's own wife died years ago, and they'd never had any children, so his entire fortune – and it was considerable by all accounts – would most likely go to his nephews, Crispian and Tony. Crispian had worked for Uncle Clive for the past twenty years, so Tony accepted that it was entirely possible that their uncle would leave him the business and the bulk of the estate, if not all of it. Now he was waiting on tenterhooks to find out what was in the will. Due to the time difference and Tony's work schedule, he'd missed the solicitor's calls three times now.

Tony had mistakenly boasted about the possibility of a windfall to Abby, and of course she had shared the news with Tim, and from there on, it had spread quickly, until everyone at NCIS seemed to know about it. Not that Tony cared about the speculation and office pools; he'd expected those, and even enjoyed the attention. What he did care about was now that Gibbs had heard about the inheritance, he seemed to be inordinately annoyed.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

A huge pile of paperwork had appeared on Tony's desk with instructions for him to read and sign off on the reports. "I thought there was a paper reduction act in this office," Tony grumbled.

"Gibbs is not happy," Ziva said with a smile.

"So it appears," Tony replied absently.

"You will be leaving soon?" Ziva asked, a little too eagerly.

"I haven't handed in my notice…yet," Tony said casually.

McGee stared at him. "I thought you were pulling our leg."

Tony signed one form and smoothly moved on to the next one. "I am not pulling anything, McGullible. You'd better be prepared to pull a lot of all-nighters, though. My seat comes with a lot of responsibilities. This load of paperwork is just the tip of the iceberg."

McGee questioned, "All-nighters?"

"You two have had it easy." Tony gave a mild snort.

Assuming McGee moved up to the position of Senior Field Agent, and Ziva rose in rank, too, they'd have to find a new probie – and everybody knew that Gibbs hated dealing with wet-behind-the-ears probies. Gibbs would be forced to dig through stacks of personnel records to find the perfect candidate for a job that entailed low pay, long-hours and dangerous situations. So now he was glaring at Tony and snapping at him more than usual.

"Stop scaring them," Gibbs ordered without looking up. "Bad enough that I have to replace one agent."

"Stopping right now, Boss," Tony immediately replied, wondering why Gibbs was so quick to believe he was going to quit if he inherited some money.

Okay, so ever since he got the first call from the solicitor's assistant, Tony may have become a bit engrossed in this inheritance business, and the impact it could have on his life. His colleagues had been griping that he never shut up about the cool things he was going to buy. Well, he did need a new car, so why not a Ferrari? His lease was almost up, and although Tony truly loved his apartment, he'd love it even more if he had a home with a pool and secure parking. A working elevator would be a major plus, especially if that apartment was the penthouse.

Despite losing his dear Uncle Clive, Tony was excited to hear from his uncle's solicitors at Hubbard & Hubbard, and why not? There were millions at stake, and if he was incredibly lucky, he just might soon find himself rich beyond his wildest dreams. However, Tony had learned at an early age that counting your chickens too early in the game would most likely lead to devastating disappointment, so he remained tentatively optimistic. Even as a kid, Tony planned for contingencies, with alternate escape routes worked out. If the money didn't materialize, he'd still buy a new car, and he would keep an eye out for an apartment complex with a pool and secure parking, and an elevator – but he'd be on a budget. That was nothing new.

It was amusing that his colleagues believed that the minute the funds hit his bank account, he'd quit his job and head off to an exotic locale. According to Ziva, "You will spend your time lazing around on the beach in a hassock, with a bimbo on each arm."

"Hammock," Tony corrected, liking what she envisioned. McInvestment was more concerned about Tony socking away a major portion of his inheritance for retirement. Abby kept looking at Tony with big, sad eyes, accusing him of deserting them long before it became a reality.

In response to his friends' conjecture, Tony had smiled and carefully refrained from saying anything specific about his future plans. He had never said he was quitting, but he never assured them he was staying, either. It was sort of fun, stringing them along while he waited for the pivotal call from his uncle's solicitor. Tony wouldn't put it past Uncle Clive to have bequeathed everything to charity, on a whim. If not, Cousin Crispian was in the running for the family fortune, too, but as he was on equal footing with Tony, as their mothers were sisters, there could just as likely be an even split down the middle. Half of the estate's value, which came to seventeen-million dollars each, give or take a million, wasn't anything to sneeze about. Tony could dream of a lot of things he could do with such riches.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Unfortunately, the thirty-five million dollar question was not going to be answered anytime soon. Tony had missed the British solicitor's phone calls while in Arizona due to poor cell reception in the badlands. Even if they'd been able to connect, he'd been busy this morning, galloping down a rocky trail on horseback while trying not to get shot by an assassin buzzing them in a low-flying helicopter.

Now they were waiting to board their flight back home. It would be too late by the time they arrived in DC, and with the time difference, Tony wasn't likely to connect with the solicitor until the next day.

The sea of travelers crisscrossing the airport concourse parted before Gibbs as if he were Moses. Gibbs seemed oblivious to the appreciative looks he was getting from both women and men as he passed by. With his outdoorsman clothing, his suntan setting off his silver hair and making his blue eyes appear even bluer, and the straight-backed and confident way he had of carrying himself that seemed almost cocky, even Tony couldn't but help but give his attractive boss a once-over.

As Gibbs approached Tony, their eyes met. Gibbs smiled a little, and lifted the food tray as evidence he'd been successful in finding something edible. It was one of those crooked smiles that meant he knew exactly what you were thinking and didn't give a damn, and for a fleeting moment Tony thought that maybe he hadn't covered his admiration very well after all.

Gibbs' smile turned into a smirk when Tony sniffed, detecting the aroma of tomato sauce and pepperoni. "You got me pizza, Boss?"

"No guarantees. Came from a Mexican food cart way down by Alaska Airlines."

It was the kind of thing Gibbs had said dozens of times over the years – an offhanded, 'Here's your pizza and don't blame me if it's cold,' (or 'crappy,' or 'missing the pepperoni,' or 'It's been in the trunk for four hours,' alongside the evidence while they'd been running down a suspect) – but this time Tony felt different. Gibbs, whose eyes twinkled with amusement, had gone the extra mile to seek out pizza for him, even if it was crappy airport pizza, and in Tony's book, that was tantamount to a declaration of love.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said, a grin spreading across his face.

"Doesn't take much to please you," Gibbs observed.

Actually, all it took to make him happy was to have Gibbs nearby, either out in the field while on a case, or doing something together on their time off. Even though this trip to Arizona had been physically draining and uncomfortable, Tony wouldn't trade it for the world, if only because he had been in close proximity to Gibbs the entire time. For better or for worse, Gibbs was a huge part of his life. If, by some cosmic chance, he inherited the family fortune, he was going to be faced with a very difficult decision.

Would he stay with what he knew, or leave on the adventure of a lifetime? Continue being Gibbs' second, or break away and become his own man? The few times Tony was offered a promotion, or when he had the chance to move over and up at another agency, he didn't need to think before answering, "Thanks, but no thanks."

The idea of having enough money to do anything he wanted, with the world as his playground, was incredibly exciting, and tempting, to say the least. But on the flip side, how could he give up working with Gibbs, and being around him all day and half the night? Did he really want to resign and take off for parts unknown – all alone?

He didn't even have to think about the answer. There had never been any choice; the matter was settled before the horse was even out of the starting gate. Money or no money, Tony knew, deep in his heart, that he didn't want to – couldn't – leave Gibbs. It was one of those turning points in a person's life, a moment that, when you looked back later, you would say to yourself, "Yeah, it was then that I knew for sure." It was then, at that very moment, when Tony finally accepted that he had lost his heart to Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a long time ago. It was a bittersweet acknowledgement of his deeply hidden feelings, because Tony knew just as surely that he would never do anything about it; he would never let Gibbs know how he truly felt about him.

Tony shrugged and said, "I don't think I could have walked all the way to the food court."

Gibbs looked Tony up and down. "What's the matter? Your ass still sore?"

With a pained smile, Tony gave his rear end a couple of pats. "Well, yeah, riding up and down every hill between here and Mount Pinos hasn't done my posterior any good." His inner thighs were killing him, and his new boots had given him blisters. He could not wait to have a long, hot shower, or better yet, indulge in a good soak in a tub with bubbles and some expensive skin softener. Their flight would be boarding soon, and they'd be back in DC in five hours. He couldn't wait.

"You can eat standing up," Gibbs said unsympathetically. He led the way to the nearby waiting area, and chose an empty table by the window so they could watch planes taking off. As soon as he was seated, Gibbs took a big swig of the hot black coffee he'd bought, and sighed with satisfaction.

Tony sat gingerly on one of the hard plastic chairs and stuck a straw in the soda Gibbs shoved in his direction. "That cowboy coffee Sheriff Boyd boiled up was like battery acid. Reminded me of the squad room coffee back in Peoria."

"Oh yeah, that trail coffee was as bitter as hell," Gibbs admitted.

"He must have added the grounds to boiling water, and scalded it," Tony said knowledgably. Gibbs eyed him curiously, so Tony explained, "When I was stuck in Yale Summer Camp for Gifted Kids, we had access to the library. I read everything I could about cowboy lore, and all the Zane Gray novels – did you know his first name was Pearl and he was a dentist? – and there were some really cool old history books about the westward expansion. Anyway, I perfected brewing coffee when I was there. Had full run of the lab after hours." He could tell by the way Gibbs was scrutinizing him, that he wasn't quite sure if Tony was feeding him a line.

"How old were you?"

"Just turned eleven. We crafted international policy and reenacted important moments in American history. Made s'mores over Bunsen burners in the lab. Peeked in the windows of the college girls' dorms. Crazy times!"

"Huh, you a nerd?"

"Sort of, but don't tell anyone," Tony pled.

"Nobody'd believe it," Gibbs said as he unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. He cast a sideways look at Tony, who started eating the pizza as if starved, which he was.

"Mmm. Not bad, Boss," Tony said with an appreciative nod.

After finishing half his sandwich, Gibbs asked, "So, did the cowboy experience up there on Mount Pinos live up to your expectations?"

Tony thought for a moment and then nodded. "It was a little rough at times. If I'd known, I would have worn padded bike shorts under my jeans, and packed something to eat other than beans, but yeah, it was fun." Not that the sheriff had offered him any of the beans he'd cooked up. That was probably due to Tony's reenactment of the farting-around-the-campfire routine from Blazing Saddles. Some people just didn't get it. "Except for the crazy dude in the helo taking pot shots at you. That wasn't fun."

"Got him, didn't I?" Gibbs asked, looking satisfied.

"Yeah, but it was a little hairy there for a few minutes," Tony pointed out.

Gibbs shrugged, as if it was all in a day's work.

Tony drank his soda right down to the crushed ice cubes, making slurping noises to annoy Gibbs. Just before Gibbs delivered a slap to his head, Tony let up and gave a satisfied sigh. When Tony saw Gibbs glance at his watch, he said, "While you were in pursuit of the perfect cup of java, I checked on the flight. It's on time. I gotta tell you, with my rear end so saddle-sore, I am not looking forward to spending the next five hours squished in an airplane seat with some stranger's elbow in my ribs." Gibbs raised an eyebrow, so Tony quickly amended, "Although sitting next to you, Boss, always makes for a great flight experience."

Smiling, Gibbs started to reply, but his cell phone rang. He squinted at the number before answering it. "What, McGee?" Gibbs listened for a moment, and then said, sounding irritated, "Tell them to secure the scene and not to touch anything….No!...You think I'm gonna let the locals handle it? Send the details to DiNozzo's phone."

Tony got the gist of the conversation, and his heart sank. "Change of plans?" Maybe, after they did whatever it was they had to do, they'd be able to stay overnight in a nearby hotel before returning home, in a nice room with a bathtub. Yeah, that would be good.

His mouth compressed in a grim line, Gibbs picked up his coffee and stalked off to the airline counter. Tony stayed put and wolfed down the rest of his slice, experience telling him it could very well be his last chance to eat for several hours.

After a few minutes, Gibbs returned, looking even more annoyed than usual. "We have another assignment. We'll have to drive."

"Drive?"

"There's no flight until tonight. Grab your gear." He picked up his coffee and his bag and did an about face, leaving Tony to follow.

Tony grabbed his go bag and the other half of Gibbs' sandwich, and hurried after his boss, wondering where they were headed. Obviously not back to DC. They ended up in front of a car rental agency booth, where Gibbs arranged for a car with his usual efficiency.

It wasn't until he had followed Gibbs out of the terminal and into the scorching heat, and they were walking across the large parking lot, that Tony asked, "Uh…where're we heading, and why, Boss?"

Gibbs never broke stride as he replied, "Vegas. We were just informed that our hired killer kept a condo there."

"Can't one of our agents from the area process any evidence? Agent Blackstead is assigned to the NCISRU in Fallon."

"In Fallon," Gibbs repeated.

"It's in Nevada," Tony said helpfully.

Gibbs glared at him. "I know where Fallon is. You think I'm going to hand over the investigation into Agent Patterson's murder to another agent, DiNozzo?"

"No, of course not." It was over four hours' drive to Vegas, and sitting in a rental car wasn't going to do his aching muscles any good. Tony looked longingly over his shoulder at the airport terminal as he jogged along. "You think they sell horse liniment in the gift shop?"

"Why, are you thinking of horseback riding all the way to Vegas?" Gibbs asked.

"It's for my saddle-sore ass," Tony replied, whining a bit.

Gibbs stopped in front of a gray sedan and unlocked it. "Horse liniment isn't for people; it's for horses. Anyway, we don't have time for a shopping trip."

Tony asked, "You don't happen to have any Ben Gay with you? You know, like for your knee…"

Gibbs glared at him.

"Okay, I guess not."

"Get in the car, DiNozzo, or I'll be riding your ass all the way to Vegas."

There were so many ways he could respond to that, but Tony kept his mouth shut and gingerly eased into the car. Without looking at his second-in-command, Gibbs started the car, shoved the air conditioning on high, and pulled out of the parking space. Within minutes he was speeding along the highway, whizzing past the sign that read, "Vegas 298 Miles."

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~