Title: The Swan Prince
Pairing: Tony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Supernatural themes, sorcery, angst and general Tony!Whump. I don't go easy on him this story. Also? Very AU. Like, out-of-this-world AU. Though I do slip in enough references to amuse. Try to find them all. ^^
Spoilers: None whatsoever... unless you've watched 'The Swan Princess' and even then you probably won't know where this is going.
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or The Swan Princess. It would be very odd if I owned them both as only I could think they could possibly work well together.
Summary: Young Tony, the crowned prince of the Kingdom of Fidelis, has everything he could ever want. Then the sorcerer Ari takes it all away. Now, on the run and suffering under the worst curse black magic has to offer, can Tony ever find his way home? And, more importantly, will he want to? Or will our prince sacrifice his kingdom, his identity and his humanity for something he's never known: love.
Authors Note: This chapter is to celebrate the fact that I've now GRADUATED uni! Yay! I got to wear a robe and hate and everything. It was awesome and here's a nice LONG chappy to celebrate. ^^
I spent my whole life searching
I spent it on a quest
Searching for that perfect heart
The proverbial golden chest
I've spent my whole life wanting
And wondering just when
I've spent it on my knees
Pushed down again and again
I've spent my whole life wondering
Searching the very skies
And what an idiot I have been
For you were right before my eyes.
Chapter Eight: Right Before Your Eyes
Tony would have thought that Gibbs knowing his secret would change everything.
But it didn't.
In fact, the only alteration in his normal routine was that he began accompanying Gibbs while in swan form, swimming easily after the Kelly as Gibbs sailed.
It gave him something to do and, since Gibbs didn't complain, Tony took his silence as tacit approval and continued to seek the Kelly out anytime he got bored of flying around or playing in the shallows of the ocean. Which was frequently.
While Tim never said so, Tony also got the impression that his pseudo brother felt better now that someone else was in on the secret –especially when it was someone Tony worked for. Not only was Gibbs more able to provide for Tony's situation than Tim was, his knowing about the curse meant it was much easier to find a secluded spot at midday and proceed directly to the Kelly.
In fact, considering the second 'b' was for bastard, Gibbs had been surprisingly supportive about the whole thing. He never said anything about the matter one way or the other but the fact that he was willing to go to such lengths to accommodate Tony said more than words could. He even went so far as to provide Tony with food after his transformations, correctly assuming that Tony wouldn't get to eat much while a swan. His silent anger over the unfairness of Tony's situation also shone through at unexpected moments, and Tony half hoped that Gibbs would meet Ari one day –he had the utmost faith that his boss would kick the dark sorcerer's ass.
All things considered, the following week was one of the most pleasant Tony had experienced in quite some time. The only thing that gave him any sort of trouble, in fact, was Stan.
It had become abundantly clear that Stan was far more interested in Tony than Tony was in Stan. The matter was further complicated by the fact that, despite how hard he tried, all Tony's feelings for Stan were utterly platonic.
Tim had shrugged and stated simply that Tony couldn't possibly control such things, but then Tim had no idea how odd such a situation was for Tony. For a man who'd slept with men and women he hadn't found the least bit attractive, finding himself completely uninterested in someone as handsome as Stan was more than a little unnerving.
Still, there was no use forcing something that wasn't there, and Tony couldn't do anything but accept that it was the way it was. How exactly to tell Stan that, he had no clue whatsoever, so he resorted to avoiding the man whenever possible –a tactic that Tony freely admitted was cowardly in the extreme and likely wouldn't last very long but was very effective while it did.
Then it was Saturday, and Tony's mind was suddenly given something else to obsess over.
"I'm working on the boat tomorrow," Gibbs said gruffly as Tony helped carry that day's crates into his house, "Could use an extra hand."
"Sure," Tony agreed eagerly, all but jumping at the implied invitation, "Sounds fun. I'll be here tomorrow at twelve."
Gibbs closed the door without reacting, which Tony took as an agreement. Grinning, Tony made his way back to the hotel, unable to stop thinking about the unexpected invite. He and Gibbs had never done anything even remotely social together, and the only time Tony had ever been inside Gibbs' house was when he was shown the boat. Though delighted to be asked, Tony couldn't help but wonder at what had prompted the question.
"Maybe he's just being nice," Tim suggested when Tony outlined the situation.
"Gibbs doesn't do nice," Tony parried at once.
"So maybe he wants to ask you a favour," Tim stipulated.
"I don't think so," Tony mused, considering that, "He's the sort of man who'd ask outright."
"No idea then," Tim admitted, shrugging, "Oh well. You'll find out tomorrow anyway."
Since that was true, Tony collapsed onto the bed and began to count down the hours until midnight.
Midday the next day couldn't come fast enough for Tony's liking.
Even though he'd spent the vast majority of the day in the pond, being cooed over by Abby and the miscellaneous hotel guests, he'd been bored silly by ten o'clock. Not to mention somewhat fatter than he'd been several hours before.
Needless to say, Tony hightailed to Gibbs' house the moment he was restored to his normal self.
Knocking firmly (and in a rather catchy beat) Tony all but bounced on his feet as he waited for Gibbs to answer the door. And waited. And waited.
And waited!
Suddenly remembering that Gibbs had a weird thing about not locking his door, Tony shrugged and entered without a summons. The kitchen and family room were both deserted and, not even bothering to look upstairs, Tony headed directly to the basement, where he found Gibbs sanding steadily away.
"Took you long enough," Gibbs criticised.
"I knocked," Tony protested at once, "You're the one who didn't answer the door."
"Never answer the door," Gibbs shrugged, "No one who knocks ever wants anything worth hearing about."
Considering how few door-to-door salesmen there were in Semper, Tony couldn't help but wonder what the story behind that comment was.
"What can I do to help?" he asked instead, deciding not to dwell on it.
"Pick up a sander," Gibbs returned, gesturing pointedly to a bench that housed another four.
"Just to warn you," Tony began as he picked up the sander experimentally and tested its weight, "I've no idea what I'm doing."
"It's not brain surgery, Tony," Gibbs rebutted, raising an eyebrow, "I'll show ya."
So saying, he manhandled Tony until Tony stood before him. Then, placing his hands carefully over Tony's own, he began moving it carefully up and down the length of wood. He did this three more times before he moved the sander onto the length of wood to the left.
"Feel the difference?" Gibbs prompted.
"Not really," Tony admitted, frowning.
Gibbs shifted the sander back and forth another four times before Tony finally found what he was supposed to be looking for.
"Oh!" he cried at last, exuberant about his find, "The one on the left has less resistance. It's smoother."
"I've already done that one," Gibbs said by way of agreement, backing off, "You wanna keep sanding until it feels the same."
"What if I mess up?" Tony wondered fearfully, not wanting to ruin the masterpiece before him.
"I'll be watching your six," Gibbs assured, "But you'll do fine."
"Watching my six," Tony echoed, surprised to hear a term he'd become familiar with from hanging around the palace guards, "You used to be a soldier?"
"Still am when this town needs one," Gibbs admitted easily, "Which isn't often. Very little crime here."
"Everyone knows everyone," Tony mused, "Be very hard to get away with it, I suspect. Besides, this is the sort of place where most would give help if it was asked for."
"Happens occasionally," Gibbs granted, "You're not going to break it."
"Huh?" Tony blurted, caught off guard by the remark.
"The beam," Gibbs elaborated, "It won't snap. Don't be afraid to be firm."
Hesitantly, Tony put more weight against his hands as he sanded. The swish, swish noise began to resemble Gibbs' more closely and so Tony relaxed and continued with more confidence.
"Better," Gibbs observed, and Tony beamed as, from Gibbs, that was high praise indeed.
They continued to work amicably for the remainder of the day and, though it didn't seem like such a strenuous job, Tony was absolutely beat by the end of it and his arms were killing him.
But Gibbs spoke more than he had all week.
Tony found himself deflating as the moment of his departure drew nigh. He knew, without having to ask, that work would cease at sunset and he hoped idly that they'd be able to spend every Sunday this way.
"We're not anywhere near finished," Tony pointed out as the world eased itself into dusk outside, "There's still heaps of work to do."
"Mmmm," Gibbs hummed, picking up Tony's hint at once, "Could use another pair of hands for a while."
"Really?" Tony double-checked, brightening, "For how long, do you think?"
"Till it's finished."
Which wouldn't be for years –if at all. That suited Tony just fine.
"Next weekend then?" Tony prompted, grinning himself silly.
"Tomorrow," Gibbs corrected, with a half smile, "After sunset."
Straight after work then. Which perhaps implied they'd even be eating dinner together.
That suited Tony just fine as well.
"Sure," Tony agreed, flashing his teeth Gibbs' way, "See you tomorrow then!"
He bounced away before Gibbs could change his mind and only realized as he approached the hotel that Gibbs had been addressing him all day by his first name –something he never did when they were sailing.
An insight that pretty much made his whole day complete.
Gibbs was a completely different person on the water.
In spite of whatever friendship that may be developing between them, whilst sailing he lived up to his second-b fully, and refused to accept anything but Tony's best.
Since Gibbs was the type of guy that wouldn't let 'real life' disrupt what happened at work, and considering how deadly the water could turn without a moment's notice, Tony understood the approach. As the former crown prince to the largest Kingdom in the known world, Tony understood being in a position where work came before friendship or family. Being royalty, after all, sometimes involved making decisions that were bad for him personally but benefited his people.
Thus, Tony didn't mention Sunday even once and instead directed all his energy into following Gibbs' instructions to the letter. The day was an uneventful one, sea-wise, but was more physically draining than Tony had experienced in a while –due in no small part to the fact that Tony had spent the whole day before doing manual labour and was still sore in places he hadn't realized there were muscles.
When the Kelly finally docked at sunset, Tony was feeling worn out but more satisfied than ever and was looking forward to a couple hours of aimless sanding in Gibbs' basement. Of course, since it was him, it wasn't as easy as that.
Stan was awaiting his return at the docks.
"Damn," Tony swore lightly.
"Can't avoid him forever," Gibbs pointed out pragmatically, surprising Tony with his commentary.
"I know," Tony admitted, resigned, "But this isn't going to be fun."
"Don't be too long," Gibbs farewelled idly, happily leaving Tony to face the music alone. Unable to resist, Tony pulled a face at Gibbs' back.
"Hey Tony," Stan greeted, approaching, "Are you free? I was hoping we could grab a cup of coffee together."
"I'm expected at Gibbs'," Tony returned, glad he actually had a legitimate excuse, "I'm helping him work on his boat."
Stan looked more willing to believe he had dinner plans with friendly aliens.
"You've been avoiding me," he accused, coming right out and saying it.
"That's true," Tony admitted, "But I really am helping Gibbs work on his boat. That wasn't a lie."
"Gibbs never lets anyone touch his boat," Stan scoffed, "Why are you avoiding me? I thought we had a good time."
"We did," Tony allowed, frowning lightly, "And I really am working on the boat with Gibbs. Seriously."
"I don't understand," Stan said helplessly, "What went wrong?"
"It wasn't anything you did," Tony assured him hastily, "I just... my feelings for you are completely platonic. When we kissed, it felt like kissing a friend –there wasn't a spark there at all."
"Oh," Stan muttered softly, resigned, "I see."
"Do you mind if we walk and talk?" Tony requested, "I don't want to keep Gibbs waiting too long."
"You're really helping him with the boat?" Stan checked, as though he still didn't quite believe it.
"Yes," Tony said emphatically, rolling his eyes.
"Wow," Stan managed, shaking his head in awe, "I never got to touch the boat. He must really like you."
"You think?" Tony asked happily, beaming. Stan blinked, a little taken aback by his reaction. Then he raised a brow.
"Huh," he huffed, eyeing Tony oddly.
"What?" Tony asked bemusedly.
"Nothing," Stan replied at once, too quickly. "Only... I'm not sure that's a good idea Tony. Gibbs isn't an easy man to get along with."
"I know..." Tony agreed, still puzzled.
"He'll drive you crazy," Stan added, looking a touch alarmed, "I mean, he's a good guy but he's still a bastard. He's been divorced three times, after all. That just smacks of issues. And I don't want to see you hurt."
"I have no idea what we're talking about," Tony admitted, blinking slowly.
"Wow, you really don't," Stan marvelled, "That'll be interesting then. Well, at least I know why you don't find me sexually attractive."
"That makes one of us," Tony replied, a touch annoyed now, "Care to share?"
"Nah," Stan dismissed, grinning suddenly, "Not nearly as much fun that way."
They'd reached Gibbs' house by then and, clapping him firmly on the shoulder in parting, Stan left him there. For a man who'd essentially been dumped, he seemed surprisingly unaffected. In fact, of the two of them it was Tony who the most befuddled.
Shaking off his confusion, Tony hastened inside, prepared to go immediately to the basement. Instead, he got as far as the kitchen.
Where Gibbs had set up a simple meal for two.
Having expected they'd eat as they worked, much like they did while at sea, Tony was caught completely off gaurd.
"Your steak's getting cold," Gibbs pointed out, prompting Tony to take his seat, reaching automatically for the glass Gibbs handed him and finding it was filled with orange juice.
"You could use some vitamin C," Gibbs explained easily, as though them having dinner was commonplace.
"Right," Tony agreed blankly, working on autopilot as he cut the meat and raised it to his lips.
"This is good," he noted in surprise as he tasted it.
"It's how they're cooked," Gibbs returned, not elaborating, "How did it go with Stan?"
"Surprisingly well," Tony admitted, trying to shake himself out of his stupor and outlining the bare bones of the conversation that had just taken place. Despite the fact he left sections out entirely, Gibbs still looked as though he understood more about what happened than Tony did.
"Stan's always been quick on the uptake," he commented wryly when Tony was through and clearing his plate.
"Do you really not let anyone touch your boat?" Tony couldn't help but ask curiously, deciding to ignore that statement completely. He had a feeling Gibbs wouldn't give him a straight answer anyway.
"Stan exaggerated slightly," Gibbs allowed, smiling secretly.
"Right," Tony replied suspiciously, feeling Gibbs was intentionally leaving something out. In fact, he had a distinct impression by now that something was going completely over his head.
If only he could figure out what the hell it was.
"Finished?" Gibbs prompted, cutting off any further questions by getting to his feet and gesturing to Tony's empty plate.
"You cooked," Tony protested at once, following Gibbs' lead, "I'll do the dishes."
So saying, he took his own to the sink to wash it. It didn't occur to him until he was standing before the sink that he'd never washed a dish in his life. Figuring it couldn't be that hard, Tony turned the cold water on. At once, Gibbs reached over and turned it off, switching his hand to the hot water knob which he twisted firmly.
Experimentally, Tony slid the dish under the water and rinsed it before pulling it out again. Gibbs, actually letting out a laugh, took the plate away gently.
"You can dry," he suggested.
"Fine," Tony pouted, watching Gibbs intently. It turned out it wasn't too complicated; Tony had simply forgotten to scrub down the plate with some detergent.
"How have you never washed a dish before?" Gibbs marvelled, shaking his head as he handed Tony the first dish. Tony set to drying it at once.
"My mum was very possessive of the kitchen," Tony replied, "And my dad would have killed me if he caught me doing 'women's work'."
"That's an odd stereotype," Gibbs noted, frowning, "What about same sex couples?"
"My father doesn't have much respect for submissives," Tony admitted and, unfortunately, that was entirely true, "It was the same difference to him. My being one caused some problems, as you might imagine. He spent my whole childhood trying to shape me into a dominant. I can pull it off if I'm with a woman but otherwise I'm hopeless."
"Nothing wrong with being a submissive," Gibbs disputed firmly.
"I know," Tony agreed, taking the next dish Gibbs handed him, "It took me a while though. I think that's part of why it took me so long to want to be serious with someone. I always knew I'd prefer to be with a man and I knew I'd never be able to be the dom in such a relationship. But now, well... my dad's not exactly around to protest, is he? Besides, I was sick of living to please him."
"Explains why you're so useless when it comes to romance," Gibbs mused.
"I am not!" Tony protested at once, and, seeing Gibbs look, amended, "Well, alright, maybe a little. God, I hate my father."
"Not feeling too fond of him myself," Gibbs put in dryly, "Come on. Let's put these away and get to work."
Tony didn't need to be told twice. Hastily putting the dishes to the side, he hurried down to the basement, ducking around Gibbs to reach it first and instantly picking up the same sander he'd been using yesterday.
Eager to leave all thoughts of his father in the dirt where they belonged, he set to work on the nearest wooden beam. Gibbs, taking the hint, took up his own and set to work.
Nothing had changed. They worked compatibly side by side, exactly as they had the day before. Only, it wasn't exactly the same. Gibbs was inexplicably standing far closer than was strictly necessary.
It wasn't that Tony minded the other man working so close, but it was thoroughly distracting, especially since their shoulders brushed against each other every now and again.
The constant contact made Tony feel very self-aware, though his capacity to explain exactly why it was so distracting was very difficult beyond that. Which was, in itself, a constant source of annoyance.
When nine thirty arrived and Gibbs began to show signs of packing up, Tony was caught between relief and disappointment. Ignoring his convoluted emotions, Tony followed Gibbs' lead and put his sander away, trotting after Gibbs automatically as the other man made his way up the basement steps and into the hallway. He lingered there, standing too close and saying nothing, but looking at Tony expectantly... though Tony had no idea what he was supposed to do.
"Thank you for dinner," Tony tried politely as he edged his way to the door, "And the company."
Gibbs sighed, as though asking for strength. Clearly, that hadn't been what he'd been waiting for. Shaking his head lightly (silently casting aspirations as to Tony's intelligence, Tony suspected) Gibbs reached out and caught Tony's wrist, pulling him so close they were all but flush against each other. Bemusedly, Tony allowed it, looking at Gibbs curiously.
The kiss took him completely by surprise.
And it was like a revelation.
It was as though he was a princess in a storybook and the kiss was waking him up –though it wasn't so much waking him out of a slumber as it was putting everything into perspective.
Suddenly, everything was so much clearer.
His inability to find Stan attractive, his endless quest for Gibbs attention and positive regard, the way he felt whenever Gibbs was near him, his constant distraction while in his presence.
His attraction to Gibbs was placed under such obvious light that Tony groaned at his own stupidity at not having realized it earlier. Though perhaps he could be excused, since he'd never felt anything beyond a short flight of fancy or a completely physical attraction. Whatever he felt for Gibbs, (and he wasn't so hasty as to label it 'love') it clearly ran deeper than that.
Gibbs pulled back, took in his expression, and snorted.
"Bout time," he remarked and Tony flushed. How long had Gibbs been dropping hints, waiting for Tony to catch a clue?
And how hadn't the intimate dinner for two tipped him off?
"I did warn you," Tony said in his defence, a little irritated with himself, "Hit over the head with it."
"Meanwhile, Tim's fixation with Abby is so obvious it's actually rather pathetic," Gibbs commented, shaking his head.
Tony wanted to protest –point out that Gibbs should have said something. But both of them knew that Gibbs wasn't a man of words: he was a man of action. And the actions had been there all along, speaking louder and more eloquently than words could have possibly done. Tony had merely been deaf to them.
Rather than answering, Tony drew Gibbs into another kiss. Gibbs seemed much more relaxed than he had a moment ago and it occurred to Tony that the man might've actually been nervous. Though those nerves had probably been allayed by now, Tony set to banishing them as thoroughly as possible using just his tongue.
The first kiss had been chaste, a testing of the waters. This kiss was the complete opposite.
Lips were smooth as they glided over each other, tongues helping to slick the way before venturing forward and twirling around each other smoothly. They parted, lips clinging by the barest threads of saliva, took a ragged gasp for air and closed the gap once more.
Tony, the instigator of the kiss, quickly found himself losing control of it. Gibbs took over the kiss as though the dominance was his right, using one hand to pull Tony closer still and the other to angle his head just so. Tony, sinking into it quickly, gave as good as he got even as he allowed Gibbs his dominance.
When Gibbs broke the kiss completely Tony was breathless, dazed and so hard it ached. Rather than continue to kiss him breathless, however, Gibbs merely pulled him into a loose embrace, their lower regions touching but motionless.
"Stay till midnight."
"Alright."
Gibbs laughed, hearing Tony's eagerness in his voice.
"Not for that," he disputed, pressing a teasing kiss to Tony's collarbone.
"Oh," Tony breathed, half in acknowledgement and half in startled desire, "Why not?"
"I don't want this to be an echo of every relationship you've ever had."
Tony blinked, peering at Gibbs carefully. He hadn't considered that.
"It isn't," Tony couldn't help but point out, even as he conceded the point, "I'm not using you just for sex."
"I know," Gibbs agreed, pressing another kiss against Tony's neck, "But it's time you learned what else there is."
That caught Tony's interest, since he'd never experienced anything in a relationship that went beyond wooing and sex. Seeing his curiosity, Gibbs gave a lopsided smile and tugged him to the family room. Pushing Tony gently onto the couch he made his way to a radio that had to be over a decade old. Turning it on, he fiddled with it slightly before finding a something he liked and joining Tony on the couch.
The music playing was entirely instrumental: something slow, soft and gentle. It wasn't loud enough to be particularly distracting and as Gibbs pulled Tony against him and drew him into another kiss, Tony forgot about it completely.
He was rather puzzled, however. Moments before Gibbs had been preaching that they wouldn't be rushing this and yet here they were, making out.
The kissing was long, languid and slow. The first time Tony let his hands wander down, Gibbs gently directed them back up. When next he tried to increase the fever of their kissing, Gibbs soothed him at once. Eventually, Tony got the message: sex wasn't the goal here. The only goal was the kissing itself and the intimacy of being pressed together on a couch barely large enough to fit them.
Tony had always thought of kissing as a prelude to something and not an act that was wonderful for its own sake. Exchanging long kisses with Gibbs (the variety that made him feel warm to his very toes and sigh periodically) changed his mind rather thoroughly. By the time midnight had come too close to ignore, it had solidly become Tony's new favourite thing.
When Gibbs pulled away and began to lead Tony out of the house and down to the ocean for the change, Tony was so dazed that he followed the other man without question. Gibbs, who evidently was feeling rather pleased with himself, nonetheless kept a steady hand wrapped around Tony's middle as they walked.
"I don't know what this means," Tony whispered at last as he toed off his shoes and dipped his feet into the ocean.
"For now," Gibbs answered, tilting his head for another kiss, "It's a beginning. Let that be enough."
Tony smiled, wanting to have this, wanting this moment to last forever. He had the whole night to think the day over, a whole night to question and doubt and evaluate. For now, he could allow himself to enjoy the feel of Gibbs' hands on his neck, his waist. Allow himself to revel in a head muddled by kisses and a body still tingling from being held tight.
Then midnight came and it all slipped away.
Panic and doubt came in waves.
What if Gibbs changed his mind? What if he got sick of pandering to Tony's disability? What if Tony screwed up? What about the letter? What would happen when his father arrested Ari? What happened if Tony was able to return home? How would Gibbs react to Tony's true identity? And what if Ari was never arrested? What if Tony was in hiding forever? Was he supposed to keep this secret forever? Could he really spend his whole life living such a lie?
Needless to say, he got very little sleep and even fewer answers.
Every time a doubt or question arouse, however, Tony would remember how tenderly Gibbs had kissed him. Whatever problems he had seemed unimportant when placed next to that.
Though the mentality of 'I'll cross that bridge when I come to it' didn't seem like much of a solution, realistically there wasn't much that Tony could do. Gibbs had spoken the truth when he'd called this a beginning –things were too fresh to begin analysing them so thoroughly. Whatever would come would come and, in the meantime, Tony just had to remember to take his time and try to enjoy the ride.
And there was nothing wrong with hoping for the best, even as he prepared for the worst.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
To Be Continued...
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Authors Note: Thanks again to wintermute for the editing job.
IMPORTANT: I'm going overseas on the 2nd of May and I won't be back until October. When I started posting this story I had no idea it would be so long, otherwise I would have waited until I got back. As it is, it will be impossible for me to post chapters while I'm away so the wait for the next chapter will potentially be a very long one. I'll try get one more up just before I go but it depends on editing and format processes so I make no promises. My very sincere apologies but I promise I'll put a new chapter up as soon as I get back. I'll even try to put some hot sex in it to make it up to you all! ^^
