February 15th – Wee Hours of the morning

Gibbs waited for a response but after five minutes none came and he doubted one would. He got up to shower and contemplated calling the number but knew that would be futile. Tony wouldn't answer it, if it really was Tony. He thought about calling DiNozzo's cell but without a case, he didn't know what he'd say, especially at this late hour.

"DiNozzo! Did you just sext me?"

No, definitely not. And if it wasn't Tony, he had just let some stranger invade his personal life; gave him or her his personal cell number and played an intimate game with that person. Though his gut told him it was Tony on the other end, he was only 98.3% sure. He was worried more over the other 1.7%. Nah, hell, he was worried about 100% of it because if it really was Tony, he had shown his full hand.

He made a pot of coffee and began to run through all the scenarios he could come up with that would have resulted because of his momentary slip letting his loneliness and the desire of his heart to control him. The one time he needed to feel human and fallible and gave into it now could possibly cost him his friend, his job, or worse – his life.

His shower was quick and he made his way into the kitchen to pour a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. After a satisfying sip, his eyes were drawn to a now blinking red light of his phone still on the coffee table.

He flipped it open and read the message.

"Tony, huh? Who is Tony?" The text was five minutes old and as he stood there, his phone lit up again.

"Was he the one you were thinking about when you came? Did you want your cock down his throat? Mmm…I bet you wanted his fingers in your mouth while he sucked you off. Or did you want them in your ass, fucking you while you fucked his mouth? Tell me, Jethro – Who Tony is to you?"

Jethro snapped his phone closed in frustration. He was done playing games. He wouldn't say another word to his anonymous texter. He left the phone on the kitchen counter and went down to his basement intent on soothing his frayed nerves and forgetting about the whole evening.

He attempted to continue to sand the portion of the boat he had been working on for the past few days but he couldn't concentrate and found he was doing more harm than good to the plank. He grimaced when he saw the small groove he had made, put down the sander, grabbed his coffee and began to pace.

His pacing increased in time with the frustration that welled up with each thought and having no outlet, he threw his mug across the room hearing an audible gasp just before the satisfactory sound of shattered of ceramic. He whipped his head toward the sound and watched as Tony descended the steps, hands raised in surrender.

"Bad timing, Boss? Or bad aim?"

Gibbs scrubbed his hand over his face. "What are you doing here, DiNozzo?" Normally he would have heard the front door open and close and he mentally chastised himself for not being fully aware.

"Um, well I was at the bar around the corner celebrating…or commemorating…ah hell –hoping to get lucky, I guess. Just didn't want to be alone tonight. Anyway – when I realized how close it was to your place, I thought I'd stop by and wish you a…."

Gibbs' expression told him to stop, yet it encouraged him to continue.

"So I told the cab driver to swing around this way and when I saw the light on in your basement window, I asked him to stop."

Gibbs nodded.

"But I see this a bad time, so I'll just be going now." Tony began to retreat up the stairway.

As he turned to complete his ascent, Gibbs spoke though the words were barely audible. "Did you mean it?"

Tony paused on the stairs, gripping the banister tighter. "I always mean what I say. I can't account for how another might interpret the words, but I always mean what I say."

He bounded up the remaining stairs, in a few strides crossed the living room, and shut the front door behind him. At the sound, Gibbs hung his head, taking a few deep breaths and climbed up the stairs himself to lie down for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~

Tony grinned to himself all the way home. He hadn't planned on making a trip to Gibbs' place, but curiosity got the better of him. It was apparent that he had the man rattled but he didn't know how long his own desires would allow him to play this game.

He paid the cabbie and walked to his door, ready for sleep.