TO ALL READERS: Last call for the smut poll! If you want it, you must let me know NOW! I especially need to hear from the readers of the Gibbs/Tony and Gibbs/Jenny version!!! In both cases, the pro-smut and no-smut parties are even!!! Funnily enough, the no smut readers don't leave reviews, but write PMs...are they afraid to be haunted by the pro-smut party? *grins*
To Jibbs lover, ncistonyziva, SLE, * (), Suzie, lot56: thank you for your votes and reviews.
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Gibbs was in his basement, sitting on the floor with his back against the workbench and a bottle of bourbon at arm's reach.
After his visit with Bill, he hadn't returned to the office, but just called to say he was home if they needed him.
Tony had insisted to know if he was alright, and while Gibbs had answered that yes, he was and didn't like to be fussed over, he fully expected that one member of his team would stop by to check up on him. He just didn't know who would be brave enough to enter the lion's den given his current mood.
He sighed and took a sip of bourbon straight from the bottle. The liquid coursed down his throat, but for once it brought no pleasure to him. He knew it was another warm, rich, tasty liquid he longed for and nothing else would sate that thirst until he did what Bill had ordered and drank blood.
He closed his eyes as he wondered if he could bring himself to drink from one of his team, whomever was the one that would come to check up on him. Drinking from one of them would be better than drinking from a stranger, but it still troubled him.
The floorboards over his head creaked and Gibbs smirked. Right on time. He listened to the footfalls as he tried to guess who it was. They were too loud to be Ziva's, but too soft to be McGee's…His mood improved when he realized it had to be Tony, just a moment before the door of the basement was opened and the younger man appeared at the top of the stairs.
Gibbs stood up as Tony began to descend the steps.
"Boss," he said in greeting.
"DiNozzo," he replied with a smirk. "What are you doing here?"
"As if you didn't know some of us would drop by," Tony answered, walking closer and trying to assess his condition while not giving the impression of doing so.
Gibbs snorted, "Yeah, I knew," he answered as he sat on the workbench, arms spread on the table top. "So tell me, did you draw the shortest straw?"
Tony flashed his smile as he walked to the boat and caressed the hull. "Nah, Boss, I decided to be the brave one and come here on my own will." His agent sobered and returned near him, "What is it, Gibbs? Does this case bother you very much?"
He nodded silently, as he looked how the dim lights of the basement made Tony's eyes shine like precious gems. He was very handsome in that moment and he felt a bout of longing course in his body.
Tony bent to pick up the bottle of bourbon from the floor and put it on the workbench. "I agree Boss, a serial killer that poses as a vampire is rather macabre, but it's really worse than Kyle Boone and his collection of cut tongues?"
Gibbs closed his eyes. He was so tired to hear people joke and make comments about vampire-wannabes. He wanted so badly to tell to everyone – or at least to Tony – what, who he really was. He needed to do it…and he would do it. In the end, if it didn't work out well, he would just erase the younger man's memory, as his people had done for centuries to preserve the secret of their existence.
Opening his eyes, he commented, "It wouldn't be worse if this guy was indeed a vampire-wannabe as you called him, DiNozzo, but the point is this one isn't faking anything."
Tony flashed his broad smile again, "That's good, Boss."
Gibbs rose to his feet and walked to stand in front of him. "I'm not joking, Tony," he said lowly and with intent. "Everyone knows – or, better, thinks they know – what vampires are or are not. They think they know because of the movies or Anne Rice's books, but only a few are aware of the sources Bran Stoker consulted when he wrote "Dracula" and started all the mumbo-jumbo vampire mythology."
"Well, I once read he based his novel on some Eastern European legends," Tony commented.
"True; but legends, usually, have a part of truth."
"Of course; some scholars suggest they were probably based on people suffering from porphyry."
"True again. But the point is that the tales about the Lamie and other blood-sucking creatures have existed since mankind started to hand down its knowledge with writing." Gibbs crossed his arms and walked back to stand with his hip perched on the workbench.
Tony snorted and shook his head, clearly amused. "Boss, I wouldn't ever imagined that a tough, non-nonsense Marine like you could be interested in such things. Abby? Sure. McGee? Probably. Me? A bit. But you? No way."
"A man must know where he comes from. If he doesn't, he can't know where he is heading," he replied softly.
"Boss? I really don't understand what you're trying to say," the younger man said, confused.
"Vampires do exist, Tony. They aren't the work of someone's overactive imagination. They have existed since mankind exists, a branch of the Homo Sapiens that somehow evolved differently from the main strain. The real vampires aren't the creatures portrayed in books and movies. They don't fear garlic or the cross or the holy water—most of them are religious people that believe in God and go to church. They don't burn under the sun, and they do use mirrors to look at themselves when shaving or applying make up. They cannot be killed by an ash-tree stake or silver bullets or any other bullshit like that. The only way we can die is to bleed out before we can heal the damage done to our body. It's a rare occurrence, but it happens…More importantly," Gibbs said, looking straight at the other man, "even if vampires are born predators, we've evolved and have learned to control those urges along the centuries and we no longer go around killing people to drink their blood. We eat as humans do and we become anemic if we don't eat enough meat. Human blood is no longer something we need to survive, but something that allow us to live at our very best form. Drinking little sips of human blood help us to stay young or rejuvenate. It helps us to heal from injuries that are otherwise incurable. But we don't kill or harm our donors. However, sometimes, just as it happens with human serial killers, a monster is born, and it's one of them that killed Lt. Winters and the other five men around Washington."
He fell silent, watching warily as Tony came closer.
"Er…Boss…" his agent said softly, "do you realize that midway into your speech you stopped saying "they" and started saying "we"?"
"Yes."
Tony bit his lower lip as his gaze posed on the bourbon bottle. "Boss, tell me, how much Jack did you drink before I arrived?"
"I'm not drunk, DiNozzo—I'm a vampire." As he trailed off Gibbs raised his upper lip and bared his fangs, which he had let descend during his speech.
Tony's eyes widened in shock and he shook his head, as if he was denying what he was seeing. "Nice trick, Boss…but it's just a play of shadows and lights. I can't see well in this dim light…"
He raised a hand and suddenly the basement was flooded with light.
Tony's eyes widened even more as he looked at him and then at the lights above his head. "What did you do?"
Gibbs shook his shoulders. "Electromagnetic pulse—or at least I think this is how the scientists call it. To me it's just an ability I've got and one I don't especially like." He smirked, "Have you ever wondered why I don't use power tools and break so many cell phones?" Then he sobered again. "This is how the killer disabled the lights and the video cameras when he killed Lt. Winters and the other victims."
"I see," Tony said lowly.
They stood there, facing each other, and as silence fell over them, Gibbs thought the distance between them was getting wider by the moment. He was familiar with that sensation, it had happened in all his failed marriages. Most recently, it had happened in that very room, when he had caught Hollis listening to the tape Shannon and Kelly had sent him when he was in Kuwait. That night he had just sat down on the stairs and watched, ignoring the pleading look in Hollis' eyes, until she had bowed her head in defeat and walked away, from his house and from his life.
But this time he wasn't going to stay still and watch. He reached out with a hand, trying to close the gap between himself and Tony—and his heart constricted when the younger man quickly side stepped, avoiding his touch. He let his arm drop by his side and swallowed hard. He had his answer. DiNozzo was so scared or repulsed by him he didn't even want Gibbs to touch him. There would be no future together for them.
He turned around and, looking at the wall in front of him, he said flatly, "I can erase your memory Tony, and make you forget everything you heard and saw here. I swear I'll never approach you again as a vampire. You don't have to fear me."
"I don't fear you, Boss…well, no, I fear you when you are pissed off on the job, but…" the younger man laughed nervously. He paused for a moment, and when he continued, his voice sounded slightly uncertain. "This is a lot to take in, Gibbs. I need time to think about it and sort my thoughts out."
He nodded; it was a fair request. He turned around and leant back against the work bench, watching as Tony looked around the basement, his eyes settling on everything but him.
"Maybe you should go away and take a walk to clear your mind," he suggested.
Tony nodded eagerly, "I'll do that, Boss." He turned around and moved toward the stairs, but before he could put a foot on the first step, Gibbs stopped him.
"Tony?"
"Yes?"
"I've something else for you to ponder about."
"Oh?"
"I love you," he said simply and without preambles.
Tony's eyes widened almost comically. "What?" he croaked.
"I love you," Gibbs repeated. "I told you about myself because I hope to have a relationship with you." Not the most romantic of declarations, but he had needed to get it out.
Tony's mouth opened and his lips moved, but no words came out of it. For a trained interrogator like Gibbs there were many different emotions showing on the younger man's face and eyes, but at the same time he couldn't quite read them either. He wanted to think he had glimpsed a flash of pleasure at his declaration, but maybe he was just only seeing what he wanted to see.
"Go Tony, I'll be there when you feel ready to return," he said and the younger man nodded, quickly climbing the stairs and disappearing from his sight.
He walked to the workbench and sat down with a sigh. He didn't know what to think about the situation. This was only the second time he revealed his true nature to a human, and it had been probably too much to expect Tony would react as Shannon had.
Intellectually Gibbs knew the younger man needed time to sort out his thoughts, but emotionally, it had felt like a rejection when he had pulled away from his touch. He wasn't exactly known for reaching out to people and he had been hurt by Tony's actions.
However, Gibbs didn't regret having told the entire truth. He wanted a complete, true relationship with Tony. One where he could fully be himself and not have to continuously curb his instinct. He wasn't going to settle for nothing else. It was all or nothing, and if it turned out the other man couldn't accept what he was, then he would wipe his senior agent's memory and never approach him again.
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