Hello all! Due to an unexepcted errand for my parents, I've no time today to reply to the reviews as I usually do. I thank all of you for the great support.
I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!
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III
Washington DC, early February 2010
Gibbs had refused to comment when he had been informed their current murder case's victim, Navy Lieutenant Justin Moss, had been meeting with a prostitute in a motel in Norfolk when he had been killed.
According to Moss' widow, the dead officer also worked as a reporter for the Navy Herald and had been doing a piece on high-priced call girls in Norfolk. This was apparently why he was with an escort in the motel where he had been killed, to interview her. However, everyone in the office had found hard to believe the guy had been shedding 1,000 dollars from his own pocket every time he met the woman just to talk and get material for his exposé.
Anyway, thanks from the security cameras footage taken in the bar where Moss had met his source in previous occasions, Abby managed to give a face and a name to their mystery woman: Charlotte Cook.
"She was busted for prostitution two years ago," Abby exclaimed as she put her photo on the big screen in her lab. "If you get me a DNA sample, I could match that to the hairs that we found in the motel, and we can put her at the crime scene."
"She's been arrested before and her DNA's not on file?" Gibbs asked, surprised.
"Yeah. She must have had a really good lawyer; she was bailed out in a heartbeat and all the charges were dropped." Abby walked closer to him with an expectant face and said, "Gibbs. Guess who she used to work for?" She put another photo on the screen. "Anthony DiNozzo. The former DC male Madam. You should talk to him, Gibbs. Look, he's giving seminars on sexual harassment to government employees as part of his plea deal."
"Right. Community service," Gibbs commented absent-mindedly as he looked at the photo. It had been taken at a charity event and DiNozzo had smiled brightly at the photographer, perhaps because, if the NCIS agent had to believe to the photo caption, he had just signed a seven-figure deal to write a tell-all book.
Gibbs hadn't spared many thoughts for DiNozzo in the past month. He had been too busy with his job, with nursing a dislocated shoulder, with working to discover what M. Allison Hart and Colonel Bell were up, and with trying to find a way to save his former mother-in-law, Shannon's mom, from ending up in prison for murder.
Also, the past was the past. Tony had been important for him nineteen years ago, but now they were both different men— especially DiNozzo. Gibbs preferred to keep his memories of his time with Tony untouched, and not see them spoiled by a deeper knowledge of the ruthless man the boy had become. Pathetic as it might sound, Gibbs wanted to keep his illusions and believe he had been more than another john for the youth.
Gibbs returned to the present, just in time to stop Abby's ramblings about escorts and ordered her to find Charlotte Cook, because he hoped not to need DiNozzo's help to find her.
-x-
Two hours later, Gibbs found himself entering a federal building and walking to the conference room. His team hadn't been able to locate Charlotte Cook. She had gone off grid, and was now suspected of three more murders atop of Lieutenant Moss'.
So now he was here, looking for Anthony DiNozzo, in the hope he could help them to locate the woman before someone else died.
The conference room was almost packed full, but Gibbs managed to find a free seat in the last row, making sure DiNozzo would see him.
From there he observed that most of the audience was composed of women, and that they seemed more interested in ogling and mentally undressing DiNozzo than to what he was saying about how women interpreted things differently than men.
Gibbs could understand them; a part of him wanted to do that too. He was curious to know how the coltish boy's body had filled out and if he was still completely devoid of body hair. Would Gibbs still like to run his hand along his chest if it was no longer as smooth as in the past? Or would the presence of chest hair turn him off?
He shook his head, telling himself to take his mind out of the gutter. He was there for his job, nothing more.
"Agent Gibbs," DiNozzo said in that moment, walking toward him with a smile after having called a ten-minute break. "Are you checking up on me?"
"No," Gibbs answered sincerely. He stood up and walked closer to DiNozzo, not surprised to discover the younger man was now taller than him. He had always known the kid he had met in 1991 still had some growing to do.
They stepped together in the aisle and DiNozzo commented, raising his pant leg and showing him an ankle monitor. "You know, I never did thank you for this. It's not my preferred genre of gift, but well, it's not the present that matters, but the thought behind it."
Gibbs grinned in spite of himself as they walked in the corridor, "Well, I wouldn't complain, Anthony. Suspended sentence, no prison time. You got off pretty easy."
"It's Tony, not Anthony. And, yeah, you try not being able to go more than two miles from your home someday," DiNozzo retorted, but he was smiling.
"Oh, I did. Little beach shack in Mexico called 'retirement'. I liked it."
"Oh. And why'd you jump back in?" DiNozzo asked, clearly eager to hear his answer.
"Not here to talk about me," Gibbs replied firmly, wanting to lead to conversation away from personal themes, and back to job related matters.
"Why are you here?" DiNozzo asked, blocking his path by stepping in front of him, so close Gibbs could smell his cologne and almost feel his warmth.
Gibbs took out a print out from his inner pocket and unfolded it. "I need to find Charlotte Cook."
DiNozzo shook his head with a sad smile, "Well, I'm sorry. I can't help you. Part of my sentence was to stay away from my former employees. Why do you need to find her? Is she in trouble?"
"Yeah, she's a suspect in four murders."
"No, no, it's not possible. I know the women and the men I used to work with."
"Well, then..." Gibbs affirmed, taking another step forward, "you know where she is."
"Gibbs, if you couldn't find her, what makes you think that I can?" DiNozzo answered, half-exasperated, but then a strange expression appeared on his face. "Although..."
"Although...?" Gibbs pressed with a smirk. "It's gonna cost me, uh?"
"Oh, my rates have always been very reasonable, Special Agent Gibbs," DiNozzo commented with that sultry tone of his. "I'm just looking for...a little change of pace. And this...a dinner with you, at your place." The last eight words were whispered in Gibbs' ear, DiNozzo breath warm and light on his skin.
The NCIS agent shivered and shook his head, "That's a deal-breaker." He was curious about DiNozzo, and more than a little attracted to him, but he didn't want to let the other man play with him.
"Come on, Gibbs," DiNozzo insisted. "You need me: use me."
They looked at each other, both remembering a time when those verbs had had a different meaning, and then Gibbs nodded. "Okay." It was just a dinner, after all. "How do we find her?"
"Put me back in business," DiNozzo answered calmly. "She'll find me."
IV
Anthony DiNozzo was driving toward Alexandria. He knew he was breaking his parole and that he might end up in jail for that, but he didn't care.
The text message he had got from Charlotte had been cryptic, yet terribly clear: Please come. I'm in trouble. 270 Stanhope Avenue, Alexandria, 1st floor. He had read it and quickly decided he couldn't let her down another time.
When he had offered to help Gibbs to find Charlotte, he had done it not only because it would have allowed him to spend some time near the other man, but also because Tony wanted to help Charlotte to demonstrate she hadn't committed those murders. But his friend and former employee hadn't appreciated to know she had walked straight into a trap set by NCIS but planned by Tony—and he had felt badly because of it. He didn't like to think he had betrayed a friend.
That was why he was now driving to go to her; he wanted to help her and repair the damage he had caused to their friendship.
As he drove, Tony's thoughts re-lived the past couple of days. Seeing Gibbs again had been a wonderful surprise. Getting the chance to work with him, to observe him on the job, had been an incredible opportunity. Even if he had to bear with Agent Burley's snarky comments about him and his past profession—but Tony had evened the score when he had instructed Charlotte about what this john wanted.
Watching Burley's stunned face as he was repeatedly slapped had been priceless and Tony had struggled not to laugh aloud. Gibbs had given him a hard look, but not commented, and Tony hadn't known if he had been relieved or disappointed he hadn't been asked for an explanation. Had he been asked the reasons of his actions, Tony perhaps would have admitted that Burley's snarky comments hadn't been the only motive, but that he also didn't like how the NCIS Agent looked at Gibbs, in a way that hinted he might want to be more than a colleague to the older man.
Tony had made some researches about Leroy Jethro Gibbs after their meeting in January, and had discovered the man had been married – and divorced – thrice since 1991. Further researches had shown that all the wives had been similar to the one Tony had seen in the photos Cassie had mailed him who, in turn, had been a look-alike of Shannon, Gibbs' first wife, the one he had lost to murder, not divorce. It hadn't taken long to Tony to understand these three wives had just been poor attempts to replace the one he had lost.
The last divorce had been finalized in 2001 and since then Gibbs had been involved in brief relationships, all with women. His contacts – active in restaurants, bars, theatres, clubs, hotels, stadiums and many other places – had been quite emphatic in stating Gibbs had never been seen with a man, just with women, most of them red headed.
The idea he could be still the only man Gibbs had been with was very pleasant for Tony. He liked to think he had given the older man something no one else had—and to be the only one Gibbs had explored a part of himself with.
Tony wasn't angry with Gibbs for busting him and ruining his business. He had toyed with the idea of 'retirement' for the past couple of years, but he had always ended up postponing it. He enjoyed the power he had on other people because of what he knew about their tastes. He also liked the attention he got when he went to a party or some other kind of event and his name was announced. Tony had always loved to be in the spotlight, probably because, as a child, no one had really cared for him after his Mom's death.
But now Gibbs had forced him into retirement, and Tony didn't find he minded it. As the owner of one of DC's best Italian restaurants and of one Virginia Beach sporting club, and with a contract for a book in his bank safe, Tony had no financial problems and a lot of things to occupy his time.
The only thing he lacked was someone to share his life with, but maybe, now that he was finally in a legitimate business he could hope to spend time with Gibbs without causing troubles to the older man. Tony would really like if they could become friends…or even something more.
During their earlier conversation in the NCIS building, the older man had feigned disinterest when Tony, after talking about Charlotte, had started speaking about his past, but he had seen how keenly the NCIS agent had been listening.
"So aren't you going to ask?" Tony said as he sipped the coffee Gibbs had given him, perfectly doctored to his tastes—that had never changed since 1991. He was thrilled to know the older man still remembered how he took his coffee, especially because they had gone to a bar together only once, the morning after they had spent a whole night sleeping in a public park…neither of them knowing it would have been their last time together.
"What?" Gibbs asked, puzzled.
"How'd an educated man like me, blah, blah, blah?" Tony explained with a smile. Gunny had never explicitly asked him, and somehow he found important the older man knew it.
"No."
"No? Oh, come on, you know you want to," Tony couldn't believe his ears…and his eyes. The interest in Gibbs' eyes was evident…or was it worry? Was it possible the older man was afraid of his answer?
"No. I don't care."
"Oh, he doesn't care," Tony snorted, now fully convinced it was a lie. "When I was eighteen, I travelled to Oceanside on vacation. While I was there, I was robbed of everything but some cash and the clothes I had on. My father told me I had to work to get the funds for a ticket for home, so I would learn money didn't grow on trees. So I did just what he told me to do: I found a job."
Gibbs tilted his head to look at him better, "Somehow I don't think getting into the prostitution business was what your father had in mind when he told you to find a job."
"Well, considering the fact my old man is little more than con-man, I cannot rule it out," Tony snorted again. "I know he isn't doing well at the moment, and I wouldn't be too surprised if one of these days he phoned me asking for money."
"Well, if he does, you'll tell him money doesn't grow on trees, and to get a job," Gibbs commented with a smile, making Tony laugh.
"I didn't know you had a sense of humor," the younger man commented, studying his companion.
"I hadn't much to laugh about back then…although there was someone I knew that often managed to make me smile," Gibbs answered in a low voice, giving Tony a long, meaningful look.
Gibbs had then stood up and walked away before Tony had managed to utter a single syllable, but the hope those lines and that look had stirred in him was still strong.
The older man felt something for him, that much he knew, although it wasn't clear exactly what kind of feeling it was. Tony fully planned to discover it—but first he had to settle this matter with Charlotte and help her out from the trouble she was in.
Checking his navigator, Tony saw he was very close to the address Charlotte had given him. A couple of minutes later he pulled his car up and entered inside a building that seemed to be completely deserted.
"Charlotte?" he called as he stepped at the first floor "It's me, Tony. Come out, I'm here to take you home." He heard a slight noise and he turned around with a reassuring smile, "Charlotte?"
"No," a male voice answered, as a figure came out from behind a pillar, a long knife blade glinting in the late afternoon light. "Charlotte isn't here. I am."
"You!" Tony exclaimed as he recognized Dwight Kasdan, Charlotte's lawyer. "You killed those men," he added as he backed away from the other man.
"Yes; I had to. If she's not going to stop seeing other men, Tony, I'm gonna make sure they can't see her," Kasdan explained as he continued to advance.
"Only my friends call me that— and you know what Charlotte did for a living," Tony replied, as he desperately looked for a way out. The man in front of him was completely crazy and the chances he could reason with him were slim.
"Did for you, Tony. I mean, you're the one that got her into this. It's your fault. Now I'm gonna get her out," Kasdan replied as he continued to advance. Tony kept on backing, until he realized with horror he had practically backed into a wall and he had nowhere to go.
Kasdan smiled triumphant and raised his knifed arm. "Good bye, Tony!" he snarled.
The blade fell down and Tony side-stepped, avoiding the blow. Kasdan roared with rage and raised his arm to attack again, but he never completed the gesture, because a gunshot echoed in the room and a bullet hit the man straight in his shoulder.
Tony moved away from Kasdan and saw Gibbs run inside the room, gun in hand. The killer tried to attack the NCIS agent, but two more bullets put an end to his murderous attempts and life.
"Are you okay?" Gibbs asked, as he lowered his weapon and went to check Tony.
"Yes, I am," Tony smiled weakly. "Thank you for coming to the rescue."
Gibbs shrugged as he put away his gun. "I've already bought the food for our dinner. Didn't want to see it wasted," he replied flatly, but his eyes were full of mirth.
Tony laughed in answered, already looking forward to their dinner and to more of Gibbs' caustic humor.
-x-
Tony felt like a kid at Christmas as followed Gibbs inside the older man's house. The NCIS agent, of course, didn't offer him a tour of the place, but from what Tony could say as they crossed the living room to reach the dining room, the house was pretty much like its owner: solid, warm, with simple and well-used furniture. It told him that Gibbs was a man with little interest in luxury stuff, that he wanted things to be practical, useful and comfortable; pretty much the same thing Tony had guessed by observing his clothes.
Clothes… Sitting at the table, Tony observed Gibbs as the man divvied the food in two plates and then pushed one in his direction. This evening he was dressed with a dark blue hoodie, faded jeans and boots. As with his work clothes, this attire did nothing to evidence the great body the man still had. Tony thought Gibbs would look terrific in a grey or dark blue tailored suit, but he doubted the older man would accept a sartorial advice or to be complimented for winning his battle against middle-age spread. So, after taking a few bites of the steak in his plate, he hummed appreciatively and decided to compliment something else.
"Okay, this has got to be the best steak I've ever had. Please tell me what your secret is," he said.
Gibbs shook his head and touched the steak in his plate with a fingertip, "It's all about the touch. When it's ready, I pour a little beer on it."
"Waste of beer," Tony teased with a smile, as he drank some of said beer, but Gibbs didn't reply to it.
Silence fell on them as they continued to eat, and Tony found himself at loss. He usually had no trouble in making a conversation flow, but now he had no idea of what he could say. More, he had no idea if he had to say something in the first place. Gibbs seemed comfortable with the silence, and in fact the atmosphere around the table wasn't heavy or stifling or uneasy. 'Gunny' had never been a talker during their time together, so probably Gibbs was a man of few words, which suited Tony just fine.
However, there was something Tony needed to say…and he did. "Thank you for delivering on my little, um, deal-breaker.
Gibbs put down his fork to look at him, half-amused, half-puzzled. "Really? It's that special?"
"Oh yeah... All I wanted was dinner without expectations. With a friend," Tony added, to gauge Gibbs' reaction.
"We're friends?" the older man asked.
Before Tony could answer, his cell phone chirped. "Excuse me," he said before answering. "Hello?"
"Tony, it's me Rachel."
"Hi," he greeted his former employee, one of the last girls he had trained before his forced retirement.
"Tony, I think I might be pregnant, but I can't risk taking the test at home, my father might see me. Can I come to your place, tonight?"
"Tonight," Tony repeated uncertain. "What time?"
"One hour? Oh, uh, please, could you buy the test for me? More than one type possibly? I'll refund you the costs, okay?"
Tony inwardly sighed. Why did women never wanted to buy pregnancy tests for themselves? Were they all concerned by what the shop owner would think? "All right, I'll see what I can do," he answered tiredly, checking his watch.
"Thank you. I'm happy to hear you again."
"Me, too."
"I'll see you soon, bye-bye."
"All right, bye-bye," Tony ended the call and closed his cell phone. When he raised his eyes, he found Gibbs looking at him and suddenly wondered what the man might have guessed by hearing only Tony's side of the conversation.
"Oh... I can explain," he said quickly.
"No. You don't have to," Gibbs replied calmly.
"Mm, no, I know what you must be thinking. Oh, I... I, um..."
"I doubt that," Gibbs commented.
"I gotta go," Tony said, standing up and putting on his jacket. "Friends?" he asked as walked by the older man's chair. "I don't have many," he added, looking down at those two blue eyes he so much liked.
"Me, either," Gibbs replied, and Tony took it as a positive answer. Daring greatly he squeezed the man's shoulder and then left the room.
He had almost reached the front door, when a sudden impulse took him. He walked back to peer around the wall of the living room to look at Gibbs and what he saw made his heart clench.
The older man was sitting with his head bowed, not eating. He looked like a picture of utter loneliness, and it felt like a punch in the stomach to Tony.
He couldn't bear it. He quickly texted Rachel he wouldn't be able to free himself for at least two more hours, and walked back to the dining room.
His heart jumped in his chest when he saw surprise and pleasure flash in Gibbs' eyes upon hearing him say, "I've decided it's not so important to sacrifice a fantastic steak." It wasn't the truth, of course, but Tony felt Gibbs wouldn't appreciate if he told him his real reason.
Tony sat back at the table, made a great show of switching off his phone, and they both resumed eating, the silence around them comfortable and amicable.
Afterward Tony helped Gibbs to clean up and wash the dishes, something he hadn't done in ages, for he had a dishwasher in his apartment and a housekeeper to do all the cleaning. They talked about the current economical crisis, the conversation running smoothly.
By the end of the evening, when Tony was about to leave, he found himself asking, "So, can we be friends, Agent Gibbs?"
The older man nodded, "Yeah, we can—and call me Jethro."
"Jethro," Tony repeated, savoring the name, and left the house, before the temptation to kiss Jethro's smiling lips became too much to resist.
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I always hated the end of "Guilty Pleasures", with Holly leaving Gibbs all alone…that last scene with him with his head bowed was heartbreaking. So…I decided to change things in this story. I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think and remember reviews make me update faster!
EDIT: I'm getting reviews about people wondering when Gibbs and Tony will get together...I can only say: PATIENCE! Feelings need time to develop, OK?
