CHAPTER 3 - BARGAINING

Jethro had a handful of Tony's ass, and Tony's hand was squeezing down on his cock; Jethro was thrusting into his hand, lost in the taste of Tony's kiss, his agile tongue and sexy little moans, and the just-out-of-bed warm smell of him. It was so fucking perfect – until Tony pulled his head back, gasping for air. "Wait!"

"What?"

Tony placed a hand on Jethro's chest, and took a moment before saying, "You ever think maybe we're making up for lost time? For all those years we never did anything about this? I mean, we've been having a whole hell of a lot of sex ever since we… you know… figured out we wanted to be together."

Jethro couldn't believe this. "Are you complaining you're getting too much sex?" Trust Tony to find it necessary to stop and take a situation apart, looking for some deeper meaning.

"No, no… I'm not – far from it. Only, what if this is a flash in the pan and we wear ourselves out? Or if you get tired of me…"

"So what if we're making up for lost time?" Jethro replied impatiently. "Or we should be, if you would stop worrying that we're enjoying ourselves so much. And as far as getting tired of you… you must know, I could never, ever get tired of you."

Sometimes the sex was of the shirts-ripped-off, crashing-into-walls variety, their battle for dominance resulting in bruises and love bites that meant wearing high-neck shirts the next day. But they made tender love, too, with kisses and murmured promises that left them cocooned with warm fuzzy feelings. Either way, Jethro knew he'd never get his fill of his beautiful lover. He literally wanted Tony all the time, and sometimes had a hard time hiding his attraction to him when they were at work. Maybe Tony wasn't quite as enthusiastic as he'd thought. "You don't want to do this? You seemed pretty gung-ho a few minutes ago. What's really going on?"

Tony sighed and said, "I just…don't want you to strain your shoulder. You'll have to wear that sling again. And then it'll be another couple of weeks before you're okay to do this and… I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm not gonna be using my shoulder, DiNozzo." Jethro could see he still wasn't convinced. "Look, I'll let you know if it hurts, okay? And we'll stop and do something else." He was touched that Tony wanted to take care of him, but he sure as hell wasn't about to let this damned inconvenient injury get in the way of a good blowjob, and right now he had a powerful need for Tony's lips to be wrapped around his dick. He ground out, "You know, if you make me late for my appointment with Ducky, I'm gonna have to blame it on you. I'll tell him it's 'cause you gave me the slowest blowjob ever."

"You wouldn't," Tony said, horrified.

Jethro chuckled. "No, I wouldn't. This thing we've got going on…"

"This thing?"

"Okay, well, this relationship we have, is just between you and me, right? I want to keep it that way as long as possible. You're all mine." He kissed Tony hungrily, and once he had him pliant and groaning, he whispered into his mouth, "So how about you finger-fuck me while you're sucking me off?"

Tony gracefully dropped to his knees on the thick bedroom rug, and took Jethro's heavy cock in one hand. "Mmmm, nice," he said appreciatively as he gently licked the leaking head. "I love your cock because it's all mine, and you let me do what I want with it."

"And what d'you want?" Jethro asked, stroking Tony's hair.

"I want you to fuck my mouth and cum, so I can taste you all day," Tony said, smiling up at Jethro. "And when we go to bed tonight, I want to sleep with your cock in my mouth. I want to keep it warm for you."

Holy crap, the things he said. Jethro took a handful of Tony's hair and said, his voice rough, "You're so fucking hot."

Tony pumped Jethro's cock and played with his balls, licking his lips in anticipation. As soon as Jethro delivered an impatient pat to the back of Tony's head, he got the message. Wrapping his lips around Jethro's cock, Tony went to town, sucking on it and making obscene needy noises, as if it was the best thing in the world. When his tongue started fluttering around the cock-head and delving into the piss-slit, Jethro inhaled sharply. He ran his fingers through Tony's messy hair and tugged on it until he heard his partner moan with pleasure. "Fuck me… your fingers…" Jethro said, panting with need.

Tony pulled off, took a couple of breaths, and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. Then he was back, taking Jethro's cock in his mouth, hot and wet, swallowing him down. Jethro tried to control his thrusts, even though he knew Tony could take it, but it wasn't easy. Without breaking rhythm, Tony inserted a lubed-up finger deep inside Jethro, and played with him until he stiffened and came with a deep moan of pleasure.

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"My car's not going to be ready until this afternoon," Tony said, removing his phone from the charger on the kitchen counter. "You'd think they'd have Camaro parts on hand. I'll be riding in with you today."

"You will, will you?" Jethro replied, peering over the top of his newspaper. He loved looking at a freshly showered and suited-up-for-work Tony, even if he had on one of those over-priced designer suits this morning. It had a slight sheen to it that made Jethro want to touch him all over. Shit, how it was that nobody had ever caught and kept Tony, was a mystery. Except, he had, and now Tony belonged to him, and he sure as hell was never going to let him go. "Take the bus or the metro," he said unsympathetically.

Tony blinked a couple of times before saying, "I'll be late. My boss'll be annoyed."

Jethro raised one eyebrow. "You know the rule: No riding together, to or from work, under any circumstance. I'll drop you off at King Street."

"But this is an emergency," Tony said, almost whining. "It's an extenuating circumstance. You can give me a ride just this once." Jethro didn't budge, so after a moment, Tony tried a different tactic. "How about this? You drop me off around the corner from the Navy Yard, where nobody'll see me sneaking out of your car, and I'll buy you a nice, hot, rich coffee on my way past the coffee cart," he wheedled.

"You bargaining with me?"

"Well, yeah," Tony said without any remorse. "Is it working?"

Jethro made a big deal out of thinking over Tony's proposition, and then said, "Throw in a corkscrew, and I'll consider it."

Laughing, Tony asked, "A what?"

Jethro raised two fingers, crossed them, and made an obscene drilling motion. The way Tony's eyes widened as his meaning sunk in would stay with him all day.

"You want me to… to screw you?"

"Corkscrew me, tonight," Jethro corrected. "In the kitchen. While you're naked."

Tony's face lit up. "Ooooh, I love being naked with you in the kitchen!"

Jethro slowly shook his head and smiled wolfishly. "I didn't say I was going to be naked. You want my pants off, you'll have to work at it. And I'm not just gonna bend over for you; you'll have to make me."

"Make you? Okay, I can do that," Tony replied, his pupils darkening as he pictured the scenario.

Jethro warned, "I'm not gonna make it easy for you. Think you can handle the challenge?"

Tony swallowed, and managed to say, "Um…"

Jethro asked, "Is that a yes?"

With a breathy laugh, Tony said, "Hell, yes!"

Jethro slowly folded his newspaper and rose to his feet. "I'm leaving in five. If you're not in the car..." Tony raced off to find some shoes, while Jethro poured himself a cup of coffee to go. It was impossible to prevent a big smile from forming. One thing about Tony, he was certainly entertaining, not to mention eager.

When Jethro had injured his shoulder, and got stuck wearing a sling, he'd had to curtail some of his more vigorous activities. Still, getting finger-fucked by Tony's long fingers was a damned pleasurable alternative. Tonight, he intended to turn the tables on the conveniently naked Tony, and fuck him against the sink. His shoulder might still ache, but there was nothing wrong with his dick, and he intended to prove it.

In the few months they'd been together, they'd tried a lot of positions, and had engaged in sex in quite a few locations. Trying new things was always on the menu. Tony hadn't been nearly as experienced as Jethro had imagined he was – not with men, anyway. Jethro was more than happy to teach the younger man, and they had both enjoyed the learning experience. Every day, Jethro thanked whatever God existed for giving him the courage to finally let Tony know exactly how he felt about him, and to find that Tony reciprocated those feelings was beyond incredible. It still amazed Jethro that, along the way, they'd discovered a depth to their feelings that neither of them had anticipated.

As he drove to work that morning, with Tony in the passenger seat beside him, Jethro couldn't help smiling. Tony glanced at him and asked suspiciously, "What?"

What could Jethro do but reach over to hold Tony's hand, and say, "Just… I love you." He hadn't intended to say the words; they had just come out – but that didn't mean he wasn't speaking the truth. He really did love Tony, more than he wanted to admit, but he'd never said so aloud before. Now he'd make sure he told him at every opportunity just how he felt, but if he couldn't manage to get the actual words past his lips, well, he would show Tony, with touches and kisses, and doing little things for him. The funny thing was that Tony seemed more impressed when Jethro ran him a bubble bath than when he took him out for expensive dinner.

The surprised expression on Tony's face when he heard the "I love you" words turned to a smile of delight, and then he ducked his head and looked at Jethro from under his eyelashes. "Wow, hot morning sex, promises of kinky stuff after work, and now declarations of love?" He laughed and said, "This is going to be a fantastic day!"

Jethro squeezed Tony's hand before releasing it. "I mean it."

"I know you do," Tony replied softly.

"Don't you ever forget it," Jethro said roughly.

"Never."

"I should have said it earlier…"

"It's okay. I always knew you loved me," Tony said, with a contented smile. "Some people have trouble saying what's in their hearts. But I knew. I'm glad you told me though. I love you like crazy, but you know that."

"Yeah, I do." Jethro smiled, feeling unexpectedly happy. More than that, contented. "Move in with me."

"Jethro," Tony sighed.

"It's been five months, and we're at my place most of the time. Hell, you've taken over my closet with your clothes." He sent a sideways glance in Tony's direction. "Do you even have anything left at your condo? Apart from your piano?"

Tony shrugged and stared out the window for a few minutes. Jethro knew it wasn't a good time to press the issue, but he wanted Tony to let go of his condo and commit to him.

After taking a deep breath, Tony looked at him. "I'll move in with you, but I need to hang onto the condo. Not as a place to escape to, I promise," he added before Jethro could say anything. "The real estate market isn't great right now, and I want to make some profit. Okay?"

"Very okay," Jethro said, pulling Tony's hand up to his mouth so he could kiss it. "Guess we'll have to do something about the living room. We have to pick the right place to put your piano."

Tony stared at him and said, "Shit, everyone'll see it and know I've moved in with you. Maybe I should leave it in the condo and…"

"No way. You need your time with your piano. I wouldn't think of depriving you of something you enjoy so much just because someone might put two and two together."

"You're sure about this? I mean really, really sure?" Tony asked anxiously.

Jethro assured him, "Yup. I told you, I love you, Tony. I want to share my life with you, and I… I need you there, with me."

"I want to share my life with you too," Tony admitted.

"We'll talk about this more tonight, if you need to," Jethro said, knowing it was important that Tony didn't feel he was being boxed into a corner.

"Before or after I corkscrew you?" Tony asked with a wicked grin.

Jethro shrugged. "Your choice."

Tony was smiling brightly as they turned into the Navy Yard, but it was time for them to put on their work faces. Jethro said sternly, "DiNozzo."

"What?"

"You're smiling. Cut it out."

"Sure thing, honey. I mean, Boss." Tony assumed a somber expression as they pulled up to the security booth. After their credentials had been verified, Gibbs pulled up further along so Tony could get out of the car.

Before Tony shut the door, he said, "One mega-big black coffee coming up, Boss!"

"No dawdling," Gibbs warned.

"Is that anything like lollygagging? Or more along the lines of dilly-dallying, because–"

"Shut the damned door and get me my coffee!"

Tony did as he was told, and, unable to remain straight-faced any longer, broke into a big smile as he headed across the plaza towards the coffee cart.

Gibbs watched his lover walk jauntily away, greeting people with a nod or a word as he passed them. He shook his head and put the car in drive, muttering, "He's going to be the death of me."

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"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs checked his watch. He was due down in Autopsy for his check-up in a couple of minutes, and he really needed some coffee beforehand. He'd already gulped down the one he'd brought from home.

"Probably talking with Rochelle," McGee said helpfully.

"Who?"

McGee explained, "The coffee cart lady. She's the only one that carries the blends Tony likes."

Just as Gibbs was about to say something sour about Tony's likes, the elevator bell dinged.

Tony hurried over with a tray of coffee and pastries for the three of them. "Sorry it took so long, but I got talking to the lady who runs the Beans 'n' Cream coffee cart? Rochelle… you know her. She's real pretty, long blond hair, nice smile? Really good teeth. Here you go, McGee." He handed the junior agent a coffee and pastry.

McGee nodded thanks, barely looking up as he rapidly typed into his computer. "Do you have anything more substantial to go on?" he was asking whoever was on the line.

Gibbs took his coffee and groused to Tony in a low voice, "Maybe it wouldn't take you so long if you didn't stop to chat with every female between the coffee cart and your desk."

Tony laughed. "I made up for it by sprinting all the way back. Hey, did you know the coffee lady's son is a radar specialist on the George Washington?"

Realizing that Tony had been pushing his buttons on purpose, Gibbs gave him a warning glare and announced, "I'm going to see Ducky. I expect to find all those requisitions filed by the time I get back." Tony slid behind his computer and got busy. Gibbs suppressed a smile as he headed for the elevator, coffee in his hand. Before he was even halfway there, McGee called out, "Boss, we've got a body in Falls Church."

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"The neighbor discovered her," McGee reported, indicating a distraught woman of about 40 standing on the front lawn next to a police officer. The police had identified the woman as Captain Anna Boucher, US Navy, and had called NCIS immediately.

"McGee, get what you can out of the woman while we start on the scene," Gibbs ordered. No way did he want to deal with a teary witness this early in the morning. He caught Tony smiling and waggling his fingers good-bye at McGee. "Maybe you want to be the one to talk to her, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked alarmed at the suggestion. "Oh no, Boss. I don't do well with weeping women. Or with anyone who's crying, for that matter."

"Hell, you know anyone who does?" Gibbs asked. Not waiting for a reply, he headed into the house, a small 1950s ranch with an attached garage. He didn't have to look back to know Tony was on his heels, carrying the evidence-collecting kits and other gear.

The deceased was lying face down in the kitchen, the back of her head dark with dried blood, and there were drops of blood leading to the living room. Capt. Boucher was wearing a bathrobe and one fuzzy pink slipper with a high heel. Gibbs and Tony had a quick look around the house and met back in the kitchen. Two Burmese cats had stared at Gibbs when he opened the door to a spare bedroom, and after doing a quick once-over he'd shut them back in.

Tony pulled up the dead woman's personal info on his smartphone. "Capt. Anna Boucher works at the Naval Medical Research Center in Silver Spring, and her current assignment is to oversee work at a lab at Vitex, a company here in DC. They have a contract with the Navy. Looks like they're conducting studies for improvement of battlefield medicine."

McGee stuck his head in the door and said he thought they should hear what the neighbor had to say. They met the woman, Marianne Bayliss, outside. Marianne told them, while dabbing her eyes with a tissue, that she fed Anna Boucher's cats and took care of the litter box when she was working late, or was away from home. She had a key, and had let herself in that morning, on the understanding that Anna had already left for work.

"I'd bought her some kitty litter. Anna's such a busy woman and I'm happy to help out," Marianne said. She'd walked in and found her friend dead in the kitchen. No, she hadn't moved the body. "I touched her, just shook her shoulder, but I… I knew right away she was dead, so I called the police."

Apparently their witness had seen Capt. Boucher's boyfriend, Randolph Jerome, leaving the previous night. "Randolph works at Vitex, some kind of salesman. That's where he met Anna," Marianne said, her tone making it clear she didn't like the guy. After some gentle prodding she said, "He's older than her by at least 15 years, and the jealous type. Anna's been on a health kick the past few months, and she was doing really well, but the better she looked, the more abusive that asshole got. Not that he hit her or anything, but I could hear him yelling all the way over at my house."

Tony asked, "And they were yelling last night?"

Marianne nodded. "Around 11, but it didn't last long."

"Does Mr. Jerome live here?" asked Gibbs. He'd seen some men's clothing in the master bedroom closet. Not enough to suggest a full-time resident though.

"Oh no, even though he keeps pestering Anna to let him move in. She says she cares…" Marianne's face fell. "She cared for Randolph, but she told me his jealousy was too much for her."

Before Marianne started crying again, McGee quickly said, "Tell my boss when you saw Mr. Jerome leave."

Marianne nodded and sniffed. "It was around 11:10. I always take my Chihuahua, Barney, out to do his business after I turn off the TV, and he barked when he saw Randolph getting in his car." She leaned towards Gibbs, who was taking notes, and said in a hushed tone, "I know for a fact that Anna was going to dump him. She had a new boyfriend, one who took care of her. Nice restaurants, weekend trips, that kind of thing."

"Does the new boyfriend have a name?" asked Gibbs.

"I don't know that, but I know she met him at work. Oh, and he's European. Maybe German? I met him once when he came to pick her up, but only in passing. It was obvious why she'd fallen for him, and it wasn't just for his money. Good looking, fair-haired. He drives a silver Jaguar and was wearing an expensive looking suit," Marianne said. She pointed at Tony. "Like what he's wearing."

Gibbs glanced at Tony's suit, as did everyone, including Tony. He was wearing an official NCIS windbreaker, but it was open enough for them to see the designer suit jacket underneath. Gibbs shook his head. Tony thought nothing of blowing his paycheck on a suit by that guy Zegna – one that was likely to get ruined during the course of an investigation.

The only other useful information Marianne had to impart was that Anna had planned to leave on a romantic weekend with her new boyfriend – the rich maybe-German boyfriend with the silver Jag and expensive suit – after work that day.

Marianne agreed to go down to the Navy Yard to make an official statement, and McGee arranged for one of the police officers standing outside to take her to NCIS. When McGee returned to the house, he pulled out his iPad and looked up Randolph Jerome. "Boss, Jerome works at Vitex as a clinical research coordinator. You want a BOLO out on him?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said, "but treat him as a witness and not a suspect for now. Have a look at Capt. Boucher's phone, see if you can find out who the friend is with the Jag."

"And the nice suit," Tony said, smirking. Gibbs found it very hard to refrain from slapping his head.

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