Figuring It Out

by Kesterpan

Sequel to my first story, Post Obsession Conversation. Gibbs/DiNozzo slash. Gibbs and Tony try to figure out where their relationship is headed after the revelations in Gibbs' basement. The team helps. Sometimes funny, sometimes serious.

21. Chapter 21

Here's the next chapter, and it's a long one! A couple of warnings… a creepy villain warning (at least I hope he's creepy enough, let me know if he's not!), and a definite hot fluff warning (as in, finally, I wrote another M scene). In case you're wondering as you read, the bulk of the Pierce case was in chapter 10, and the rental car killer case really started to pick up in chapter 5. I also want to let you know that the fortune Jethro gets in his cookie is not my own creation – I got that same fortune years ago in Manhattan, and I think I still have it somewhere. As always, many thanks go out to everyone who has alerted and reviewed! Unbetaed as always, so all mistakes are mine. Also as always, I don't own the characters but I do own the story.

21: Questioning

Talking With Abby

Tony walked into Forensics to see Abby sitting at her desk in the back room. He sauntered in, prepared to greet her in his usual fashion, but hesitated when he got a closer look. Her hair was up in two little buns on the top of her head, and the rest of her clothing was per usual, but her face was devoid of makeup. She was staring at the computer screen, but didn't seem to be seeing it. He toned down the energy as he made his way into the room.

"Hey, Abs."

"Tony." She looked up at him and gave him a small smile. She looked tired, but at least she wasn't crying. He had a hard time with crying women.

"Abby?" He moved behind her chair and leaned in to give her a hug. "What's wrong?"

She gripped his arms tightly then relaxed back into him, loosening the hold on his arms but still hanging on. "Did you ever treat someone in a way that left you kinda hating yourself?"

Tony was silent for a moment, remembering. "Yeah."

Abby turned a bit in her seat to look up at him. "Oh. Jeanne, right?" He nodded. "I'm sorry, Tony. I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm just –" She let go of him with her right hand and aimlessly waved the hand in the air.

"Talk to me, Abs. S'what I'm here for."

"Did Timmy send you?"

"Both Tim and Ziva said I should come talk to you, that you were upset, but didn't tell me why."

Abby sighed and stared at her computer monitor for a moment. It was on screensaver, showing random patterns of line and other geometric figures. Tony squeezed her a little. "You wanna talk? Or you wanna just get hypnotized? I should warn you, Gibbs will be here any minute."

Abby sighed. "He always makes me feel better."

Tony let go of her, shifting away until he could perch on the corner of the desk. He looked down at her, mock pouting. "What's he got that I don't got?"

She gave him a small smile. "He's just a really good listener. And he gives the best advice. He's also got the whole papa bear thing going on, you know?"

Tony shook his head. "I'd rather not know, or else this new relationship is gonna seem real hinky."

Abby gave him a small laugh. "He just makes me feel safe, and wanted, and that it's okay to screw up every once in a while." Tony raised an eyebrow and gave her a skeptical look. She laughed again. "Well, not so much with that last one if it has to do with a case."

Tony considered that. "Actually, he's sometimes even okay with screw ups on a case as long as we fix our mistakes and don't make them again."

Abby sighed. "As long as no one gets hurt."

"Breaking legs again, Abs?" Gibbs walked into the room and dangled a Caff-Pow in Abby's face. He rested a hand on Tony's shoulder as he handed it to her. She smiled at him and took the offering.

"I leave breaking people to you and Tony, Gibbs." She sipped some Caff-Pow up through the straw, then set the drink down next to her computer. "Oh, I have something for you guys!" She reached under her desk and brought out a cardboard box that was taped shut. She held it out to Gibbs. "Open it!"

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at her, then took the box and set it on the desk as Tony got up to stand next to him. Taking out his knife, Gibbs slit the tape down the middle, but hesitated before opening the box and looked at Abby. "It's not more books, is it?"

Abby giggled, sounding more like herself. "No, it's better than books, Gibbs! Look!"

The two men glanced at each other, and then Gibbs opened the box, pulling out two framed pictures wrapped in tissue paper. He handed one to Tony, suppressing a smile as he remembered what they were. They unwrapped the pictures; eight-by-ten copies of the ones Abby had taken Monday night at Gibbs' house, with matching frames.

"Nice framing job," Gibbs commented, annoyed when he realized there was a tiny catch in his voice. He was holding the picture of the two of them smiling at each other, right after they'd been kissing passionately in his kitchen. Tony had the picture of that kiss, and his face was turning red. Gibbs rewrapped the picture, putting it back in the box, and leaned in to give Abby a kiss on the top of her head. Tony followed suit, catching Abby's hand and squeezing it.

Abby taped the box shut, and held it out to Tony. "You should lock that up in your car."

Tony nodded. "I will… but first, you need to spill."

Abby shifted uncomfortably, setting the box down on the desk. "It's silly."

Gibbs tilted his head and looked at her for a moment, then went to grab and chair, rolling it over in front of Abby's desk and sitting down. "It's not silly."

"How can you say that, Gibbs? You don't even know what it is!"

"I'll know as soon as you tell me."

Abby sighed and stared at her computer monitor again.

"Oh, no you don't." Tony reached in front of her and turned the monitor off. "You asked me if I'd ever hated myself for how I treated someone," he prompted her.

Gibbs glanced up at Tony, then back at Abby. She met his eyes. He raised an eyebrow. She looked away, squirmed in her seat a little, pursing her lips, then glanced at him again. He raised both eyebrows. She sighed.

"All right! I'll tell you. It's just… I don't like myself much right now, and I don't want you guys to not like me too."

Gibbs shot her a 'you must be joking' look, and Tony snorted. She sighed again.

"Remember how Timmy was so upset with you guys getting together?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Nope. Completely forgot it."

Gibbs smirked when Abby smacked him on the leg. "Tony!"

"Ow!" Tony rubbed his leg. "Stitches, Abs!"

"Oh my God! I am SO sorry!" She jumped up out of her chair and hugged him. He hugged back, until Gibbs spoke.

"Stitches are on the other leg, Abs."

"Hey!" She pulled away from Tony, who gave her a sheepish grain, which faded quickly when she punched him hard on the arm.

"Abby."

She responded to the quiet reminder in Gibbs' voice and sat back down after glaring at Tony, who was rubbing his arm and grimacing.

"I'm gonna have a bruise now," he complained.

"Tony."

Tony glanced at Gibbs and sighed. "Shutting up, Boss."

Gibbs shot him a small smile, then turned his attention to Abby. "Go on."

She was looking between the two of them. "You guys are so good together!"

Gibbs sighed. "Thanks, Abs. Now tell us what's going on before I hit mandatory retirement age."

Abby stared at her blank monitor, avoiding looking at either man. "Well… Timmy was so upset about the two of you mostly because of rule 12, and that was because he broke it off with me because of rule 12, but I knew that rule 12 didn't really apply to us but didn't tell him when he explained why he was breaking things off because he was more serious about the relationship than I was, right?"

After a brief pause to sort that through, both men nodded.

Abby took a deep breath. "I told him Monday night that we'd talk soon, but you guys left for New York, so we didn't get a chance to, so last night we talked about it. He's not really mad at me, but I'm mad at me for not telling him the truth. I hurt him, and he's my friend, so I don't much like myself right now."

"Do you wish you guys hadn't broken up?" Tony asked.

"No, not at the time, anyway, 'cause I wasn't ready to commit to anyone then. But now I look at you guys, and you have this awesome thing going, this true love forever thing, and I just wonder if I'm ever going to have that."

Gibbs and Tony looked at each other. Tony spoke first, responding to Abby but looking at Gibbs. "Um, Abs… it's only been a little over a week for us. There's no guarantees of anything for the future. You can't hold us up as the ultimate relationship – it's too soon."

"But you guys are so made for each other! You have to stay together!"

"Abby," Gibbs broke in gently. "Tony's not saying we won't. All he's saying is that you're assuming things, and what have I told you about making assumptions?"

Abby pouted.

Tony tried again, from a different angle. "Do you want McGee back, Abby?"

She looked a little startled at that. "I hadn't even thought about it that way. Just that I was upset with how things turned out and how it obviously was still bothering him. And then I was thinking about you guys and wishing I could have what you do… but I don't know if Tim's the right person."

Tony reached out and tilted her face up to look at him. "You told me last week that you hadn't met your soul mate yet. Think you were wrong?"

Abby shrugged.

Gibbs broke in. "Be sure, Abs. Don't mess with McGee's feelings. And don't try to make yourself feel something you don't. I speak from experience; that never works."

Abby's eyes got a little of their usual sparkle back. "So you think you two… it's for real?"

The two men looked at each other again. Tony nodded while Gibbs said, "Yeah."

She grinned. "I am really happy for you guys!" She squared her shoulders. "I have work to do. Scram."

They both turned and stared at her.

"I'm serious. I feel better. Go do agent things; I'm going to do scientist things."

"Okay, Abs." Gibbs got to his feet, leaning in to her a bit. "You'll have it if you want it, Abs. Just make sure it's right." He kissed her cheek, then headed for the hallway. Tony grinned at her and gave her a quick one-armed hug. He pointed to the box with the pictures.

"Hang on to these for me until later?"

She smiled and nodded, and he ran to catch up to Gibbs.

Elevator Interlude

The elevator doors opened to reveal an empty compartment just as Tony got there. They got on, and Gibbs hit the button for the bullpen. As soon as the doors closed and the elevator started moving, Tony reached out and hit the emergency stop. The elevator shuddered to a halt, light dimming. Gibbs turned to look at him questioningly.

"You," Tony said, poking Gibbs in the chest lightly, "are in violation of the amended rule 12."

Gibbs just stared at him.

Tony wasn't backing down. "One," he raised his hand, one finger up in the air, "winking at me upstairs before you went to see Vance. Which I want to hear about, by the way. Two," – another finger – "commenting on my legs in Autopsy. Three," – a third finger – "giving me the once over in Autopsy. Four," – a fourth finger – "your hand on my shoulder in Abby's lab." He reached out and poked Gibbs again. "Keep it up and Vance won't hesitate to force that transfer on me."

Gibbs looked down at Tony's hand, then tilted his head up and stared at the ceiling while huffing out a breath. "You're right. I'll work on it." He looked over at Tony. "How come you're not messing up too?"

Tony shrugged and grinned at him. "I've done a lot more undercover work than you in the past several years. You're out of practice. But if you want me to even things up a little…" He moved quickly into Gibbs' space and brushed a kiss over his lips. "Make you feel better?"

Gibbs shook his head, smiling. "Yes and no." There was a pause while they just looked at each other, and then Gibbs stepped back. "C'mon DiNozzo, we've got work to do." He reached out to start up the elevator when Tony grabbed his hand. He played with Gibbs' fingers for a moment, then said, "My place tonight? So you can tell me if Vance made it out alive? I'll order in Chinese."

Gibbs nodded. "You're on." There was a pause. "Give me my hand back, Tony." There was a slight undercurrent of laughter in his voice. Tony grinned and let go. Gibbs got the elevator moving again.

"We're never gonna keep this quiet, are we?" Tony asked.

Gibbs just stared at the elevator doors and smiled.

Interrogating Pierce

Gibbs and Tony reached the bullpen to see that Ziva and McGee had already called up the file on Pierce and it was projected onto the plasma screen. As soon as they reached the screen, McGee gave a summary of the important facts, handing Gibbs a thick file folder. After McGee was done with his presentation, Gibbs moved to his desk, sat down, and took out his glasses. Before putting them on he looked over at Tony. "DiNozzo!"

"Yeah, Boss!"

"Move Pierce from holding to Interrogation 1… let him sit there for a bit. The three of you get into Observation; I'll be down in a few."

There was a disjointed chorus of acknowledgment, and the three agents headed out. Gibbs took maybe ten minutes to go through the folder; he'd interrogated Pierce once before in Norfolk and gotten nowhere, but his gut had told him then that the man was guilty, so he'd kept on top of the case and reviewed the file every so often. Pierce had been an arrogant son of a bitch in Norfolk, but Gibbs hadn't much to go on then… now there was a lot more evidence. Should be easy to make him crack now.

Pocketing his glasses, Gibbs stood, tucked the folder under his arm, and headed to Observation. He joined his team, looking through the one-way glass at the stocky man with thinning blond hair who sat quietly, nervously tapping his fingers on the table top.

"He do or say anything?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shook his head. "Nope. Didn't even ask for a lawyer. I'm thinking he wants to hear what we've got before he says anything."

Gibbs nodded, then turned and left the room. Seconds later he was sitting in front of Lieutenant Michael Pierce, flipping through the file and ignoring the man. Minutes ticked by, and finally Pierce spoke.

"You can't just keep me here forever. What are you charging me with?"

Gibbs gave Pierce a mocking look. "You were picked up in Marseille as you were about to deliver several kilos of cocaine. So you know we already have you for that."

He fished an eight-by-ten glossy picture of Ensign Louis Baxter's dead body out of the file and put it down on the table facing Pierce. Pierce looked at the picture and remained expressionless, except for a tiny twitch in one corner of his mouth. "You asked me about this guy once before. What was his name… Baker? I told you I didn't really know him, just bought him a drink, I'd seen him around the base."

Gibbs stared at Pierce long enough for the man to start fidgeting. "That," he gestured to the picture, "is Ensign Louis Baxter."

Silence and more staring. Pierce shifted around some more, until he couldn't stand the silence. "Well? What's it got to do with me?"

Gibbs started to list the evidence, piece by piece, and with each one he laid another piece of paper in front of Pierce.

"Witness statements placing you at the bar with Baxter. You say you didn't really know him, but the bartender says you talked for a while. Carpet fibers on the body match those in your car. DNA profile of skin fragments taken from under Baxter's fingernails. One-way ticket to France. And of course you were caught trying to deliver that cocaine in Marseille."

Pierce turned a bit pale. Gibbs leaned in, speaking softly. "Here's what I think. You've been a middle man for cocaine shipments, using your post to move the drugs overseas on military transports. Baxter caught on to you, followed you to that bar, and tried to extort money in exchange for silence. You made some agreement you didn't intend to honor. He left; you followed later because he'd given you contact information and you knew where to find him. You grabbed him, forced him into the trunk of your car, drove to that alley, and killed him to shut him up."

Pierce swallowed heavily.

"We've got you for the drugs. One-way ticket indicates you were running. Easy enough to link you to the murder."

Pierce crumbled. "I want a lawyer. And… and I want a deal. I'll give you what I know about the drug ring and you let me off easy for Baxter."

Gibbs methodically picked up all the paperwork and put it neatly back in the file. He stood, looking at Pierce with contempt. "That will be up to JAG." He left the room.

He walked back into Observation. Tony grinned at him. "Nice job, Boss!"

Gibbs shrugged. "He knew we already had him for the drugs. Not too hard to convince him we had him for the rest."

"Don't we?" McGee asked.

"DNA's inconclusive. But he doesn't know that. Rest could be seen as circumstantial, might not be enough to convict for the murder; this way he'll go down for Baxter too. DiNozzo, take him back to holding and call over at JAG, get him a lawyer. Meet you back upstairs… we'll get some lunch and prep for the next one."

Gibbs headed out the door, McGee right behind him. Tony moved to follow, but was stopped by Ziva as soon as they were in the hallway. He looked over at her; she had a small smile on her face.

"What's up? You were quiet in there."

Ziva's smile got a little bigger. "I was observing."

"Yeah, and?"

"I was observing you, Tony."

He gave her a confused look and started walking. She moved to stay even with him.

"I think, if I were to ask you what was said in there, you would have trouble telling me."

"Ziva…"

"Tony. You were not watching Pierce. You were watching Gibbs. You never took your eyes off him."

Tony sighed and walked a little faster, chased down the hall by Ziva's giggles.

The Rental Car Killer

After getting Pierce situated and contacting JAG, Tony headed out for Chinese food, getting everyone's usual. They ate in the bullpen, gathered around Gibbs' desk. Gibbs gave them an update on Vargas; the FBI had cut a deal with him to get information on all the organization's contacts, and had a several leads on where Ratero might be holed up. The FBI and ATF were handling the local leads, and the CIA was handling the international ones. Their own part was truly over, except for possibly testifying in court sometime in the future.

Ducky came upstairs just as they were done eating and were clearing away the trash. He checked with both Ziva and McGee on how they were feeling, and told McGee that if he continued to eat well and his headache was gone by the end of the day, he'd be back on active duty by Monday. Then he turned to Gibbs, looking at him expectantly.

Gibbs nodded and turned to the team. "I asked Ducky to join us for this one… we don't have a lot to go on, and his forensic psychology degree may be helpful."

Ducky smiled. "It does get me out of Autopsy every now and then."

Ziva smiled back. "We are always happy to see you away from Autopsy or a crime scene, Ducky."

"Very kind of you, my dear."

Gibbs nodded to McGee, who went to his computer and pulled a series of pictures up onto the plasma. Grabbing the remote, he walked over standing next to the screen while the others formed a semicircle facing it.

Tony chimed in just as McGee began to speak. "Is this a Thom E. Gemcity production, McSpeaker?"

McGee shot Tony an irritated look that lost some of its punch given the small smile he couldn't quite suppress. He hit a button on the remote, and the first picture enlarged to fill much of the screen. It was the front and side views of a mug shot, taken in New Orleans. The man's face was rather non-descript; close-cropped medium brown hair, dark brown eyes, his face neither skinny nor fat, his nose an average size. There were essentially no distinguishing features.

Tony frowned. "I feel like I've seen him before."

Ziva snorted. "Yes, he looks a hundred other people you see out on the street every day."

"No," Tony responded, shaking his head. "From somewhere specific… but I can't place it."

McGee started his summary. "His real name is Paul Johnson. Age 37. Originally from a small town in southern New Jersey. Graduated high school, where he excelled in art, didn't go to college. He's worked a series of temp jobs, handy man stuff, whatever comes his way. Travels a lot. Prints are on file due to a few drunk and disorderly arrests, convictions resulting in a month or two in jail here and there." The pictures switched to the ones McGee had shown everyone except Ducky before, the ones of various drivers licenses, all of Paul Johnson but altered with partial masks, wigs, and facial hair… but all clearly of the same man when McGee manipulated the pictures to remove the masks. "He used his artistic abilities to give himself a different appearance before each murder."

The pictures changed again, now to the victims. As McGee ran through the list, he first showed each person's file photo, then the crime scene picture. Each picture from the crime scene showed the victim in the driver's seat of the car.

"Petty Officer Richard Dunham, strangled… Lance Corporal Devon McNeil, shot… Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Evans, drowned…" – here everyone shot quick looks at Gibbs and Tony, but neither man showed anything other than professional focus – "Lieutenant Michael Franken, burned… Petty Officer Graham Bates, beaten… and lastly Petty Officer Lisa Holloway, who he was in the process of kidnapping when he was apprehended. She's fine, never saw him before he grabbed her, has no idea why he targeted her."

Ducky frowned. "Timothy, can you page through the file pictures again for me, slowly, please?"

McGee did so. Ducky shook his head. "This makes no sense, Jethro. There is no pattern. None of these people have a single physical feature all in common. The only thing they share is being either in the Navy or the Marines, but even so, a serial killer usually fixates on some physical characteristic. Not to mention a method of killing. The car is the only commonality, but even so, it's just a stage, not the murder weapon. And then to start with women after targeting men… there's simply nothing here that makes sense."

Ziva spoke up. "Could the common piece be that they are all different, Ducky? The method of killing, the victims themselves?"

Ducky sighed. "I suppose so." He didn't sound convinced.

Gibbs cut in. "We find the motive, we'll make it make sense."

Ziva spoke up again. "When Johnson was apprehended, he refused to answer any questions. He said," – she looked down at her notes – "When you send someone worthy of explanation, I'll talk."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "We'll just make ourselves worthy, won't we." He looked at Tony. "Figure out where you've seen him before yet?"

Tony shook his head, frustrated. "No. I know I have, but I can't place him."

McGee handed him a piece of paper. "Here's a printout of the dates and locations of all the murders… any chance you were in the area?"

Tony scanned the list. "No way." He shrugged, handed the list back to McGee, and stared at the screen again. "Guy gives me the creeps."

Gibbs glanced at Tony, concerned, but then looked over at McGee. "Got the file?"

McGee handed it to him. Gibbs paged through it for a moment, then looked up at the team. "Head on down to Observation. Dr. Mallard, would you care to join us?"

"I am certainly intrigued, Jethro."

Gibbs nodded. "DiNozzo," he called out, causing his senior field agent to reverse direction and come back over to the screen. "Want to start off? See if talking to him triggers anything?" Tony nodded. Gibbs gave him a small smile. "I'll call to have him brought into Interrogation. Meet you in Observation."

When Gibbs joined everyone in Observation, Johnson was sitting at the table, facing the one-way mirror, hands clasped and resting on the table top, thumbs up. He wasn't moving, just staring straight ahead. He looked bored. Gibbs glanced at Tony. "Anything?"

Tony shook his head. "Sorry, Boss."

"You ready?"

Tony nodded, and headed out the door. Ziva turned to Gibbs. "Tony is going to interrogate?"

"Just to start him off. See if interacting with him reminds him where he's seen him before."

They all turned to watch Johnson as the door opened and Tony walked through, full of swagger, a big grin on his face. Gibbs was hard pressed not to smile at the sight… it was Tony at his most irritating. McGee spoke up. "He's planning to annoy him into talking, isn't he?" Ducky chuckled, glancing at Gibbs, who grinned at him.

Tony pulled out the chair opposite Johnson and sat down, giving him a disarming smile. Johnson's eyes shifted and tracked him; the rest of his body stayed motionless. Tony was eerily reminded of Kyle Boone, the serial killer who'd played mind games with Gibbs days before his execution. He sat for a moment, relaxing into his chair, grinning at the man.

Johnson looked him over, then spoke. "You're not military."

"Nope," Tony said cheerfully.

Johnson shrugged. "You don't interest me." He turned his gaze toward the mirror again.

"You interest me." Tony shifted forward a little, and the motion brought Johnson's eyes back to him. "See, I get the feeling I've seen you before, but I can't place where. So I'm wondering if you've seen me. I'm kinda hard to forget."

Johnson looked at him again. "I haven't seen you before."

Tony shifted again and was about to speak, but stopped as Johnson continued to talk. "I've already done one like you."

"What do you mean?"

"The second one. He was full of bluster, like you. I shot him."

In Observation, Ziva spoke up, surprised. "He finds Tony worthy?"

Ducky hushed her.

Tony was speaking. "Lance Corporal Devon McNeil. He's the one you shot."

Johnson shrugged. "His name is not important."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "It was to him, and to his family."

Johnson was silent.

Tony continued. "Why him? What made him special?"

Johnson's eyes shifted to Tony again. "I did one like you already. I don't need to talk to you anymore."

Tony started guessing, throwing out hypotheses about McNeil and why Johnson had targeted him. The guesses became more and more outrageous, but Johnson ignored him, looking at the mirror, still motionless.

In Observation, Ducky shook his head. "Tony was worthy in the sense that he reminded Johnson of his victim, and that prompted Johnson to speak to him. But he is not worthy of explanation."

"Someone military, Duck?" Gibbs asked, thinking of Johnson's first comment.

Ducky nodded. "Very likely."

"Think I'll do?" Gibbs shot his friend a smile.

Ducky looked at Gibbs' pseudo-military haircut. "I should think so. Just channel your inner Gunny."

Gibbs grinned at him, and walked out of the room.

He entered Interrogation just as Tony was breaking into song. It was almost working; Johnson's fingers were starting to twitch, just a little. With a tilt of his head, Gibbs indicated for Tony to leave. Tony nodded and got up. "See ya round, Paulie."

He headed back into Observation, closing the door behind him. "At least I got a confession for McNeil," he said. He sounded disgruntled. Walking over to the window, he watched as Gibbs moved in front of Johnson, standing a little to one side, near the corner of the table. Johnson turned slightly to look at him.

"Oh, my," Ducky said.

Johnson's face came alive in a way it hadn't been, either in the pictures or when Tony was annoying him. His eyes traveled slowly over Gibbs' face; he tilted his head and his hands unclasped. Gibbs moved to sit opposite him, pulling the chair a bit to one side so that the team had a clear view. Johnson's right thumb started to rub against his left hand, a very slow, repetitive motion.

"Ducky?" Tony asked.

"I do believe he finds Jethro worthy." Ducky commented. "However, I am not entirely sure that's a good thing."

Gibbs didn't have to say a word before Johnson started talking. "I could do something with you. Something new."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Could you?"

"Oh, yes." There was a pause. "You are military?"

Gibbs nodded. "Marine Gunnery Sargeant."

Johnson's face lit up, and he started to stand; Gibbs gave him a quiet command. "Sit. Now."

Johnson sat, but his face broke out into a smile. There was nothing pleasant in the smile; it reminded Tony of some of the horror movies he watched with Abby sometimes during their movie nights.

"You have power," Johnson said. "Confidence. None of the others had it. They weren't quite right, but they were close. You will be my masterpiece. It's not too late."

Everyone in Observation shifted uncomfortably, except Tony, who stood frozen, finally remembering where he'd seen Paul Johnson before.

Gibbs acted like he hadn't noticed what Johnson said. He pulled out two pictures: Petty Officer Richard Dunham's personnel file photo, and the one of him sitting in the front seat of a car, strangled. Johnson looked down and nodded. "Yes, that was my first. He had authority, but not like you."

Gibbs followed up with the next two, then the next, eventually getting a confession for each one. He got to Lisa Holloway's picture. "You were apprehended trying to force her into the trunk of a car. Why were you switching from men to women?"

Johnson shook his head. "I wasn't. She doesn't fit my theme."

"Then why kidnap her?"

"She was the bait for my next piece. I hadn't been able to get close enough to her boyfriend, so I decided to take her as bait. Exchange her freedom for him."

Gibbs leaned forward a bit. Johnson licked his lips in what was clearly a sexual gesture. Tony's hands clenched into fists; Ducky, standing next to him, noticed and put a calming hand on Tony's arm. "Jethro can take care of himself, my boy." Tony nodded, but didn't relax.

Gibbs was asking a question. "You said your next piece. Piece, as in artwork?"

Johnson nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. You understand. I knew you would. I'll have something special for you, very special. You'll appreciate it."

"No, I doubt I would. Why don't you explain it to me?"

Johnson gave him an almost flirtatious look. "Now you're just playing with me. The pieces," – he gestured at the crime scene photos – "they are my art. Each one is unique, but they all have a common theme."

Gibbs sat back. "I see." He took on a conversational tone. "The cars, they represent…"

"The evils of modern technology. Cars kill; they lead to chaos and destruction."

Gibbs nodded. "Of course. And you chose Navy and Marine personnel because…"

"The military is another form of destruction. It reaches out and destroys. It needs to be stopped. My art gets the message out." Johnson looked at Gibbs hungrily, and reached out to touch him. Gibbs grabbed his wrist, slamming it down on table. Johnson cried out, but if anything he seemed even more excited. "Perfect," he said. "You're perfect. Something slow. The others were too fast, but for you it will be slow, meaningful… time will be an element in your piece."

Tony flung open the door of the Observation room and was out in the hall before anyone could stop him. Gibbs let go of Johnson's wrist and stood, looking at him with disgust. Tony opened the door to Interrogation and stared at Johnson, who stared back. Johnson's eyes were cold, assessing, soulless… just like the eyes in Tony's dream. They were the eyes in Tony's dream.

Johnson smiled at him. "You think he's yours. He's mine. I'll have him, and I'll create my master work around him. You'll be too late."

Gibbs pulled out his cell and put in a quick call, asking for two agents to take Johnson back down to holding. They showed up within a few minutes, but the whole time they were waiting Johnson was staring at Gibbs, and Gibbs had a hand on Tony's arm, restraining him from punching the hungry look off Johnson's face. Johnson was cuffed and led away, turning his head to look back at them. Tony turned to Gibbs, shaking slightly. "Gibbs…" He didn't know what else to say.

"Hey." Gibbs squeezed his arm gently, trying to reassure him. "Johnson's in custody. We've got full confessions for five murders and one kidnapping… he'll never get out."

Tony just stared at him, a hint of panic in his eyes.

Gibbs gave his arm a small shake. "Tony. We'll take care of the paperwork, then call it a day. We'll go to your place, have that Chinese food, and you'll tell me why this nutcase has you so freaked out. Okay?"

Tony took a deep breath and nodded. The others moved into the room, all looking at Tony with concern. "You three," Gibbs said, "get upstairs, get those reports written up on both the Pierce and Johnson interrogations. Try to dig up more on Johnson's background; I want to know more about why he limited his targets to the Navy and Marines. You get done, you get out of here. We're on call this weekend." They nodded and left, Ziva pulling a bit on Tony to get him moving.

Once they were gone, Gibbs turned to Ducky. "What do you think, Duck? Johnson insane?"

Ducky crossed his arms and gazed at the floor for a moment, then looked at Gibbs. "My best guess is yes, but I'm no expert, Jethro. There are degrees of insanity. He clearly planned each one of his murders well in advance, so he is certainly responsible for his actions. How the courts deal with him will depend on whether he truly understands what he has done."

Gibbs nodded. "I'll order a psych eval. Either way, he ends up in prison or institutionalized, probably for life."

Ducky nodded. "I'll write up my observations for you to include in your report." He hesitated a moment. "Jethro… be careful around him. He has fixated on you as his next victim, very strongly. I hate to think of what he would do should he get his hands on you."

Gibbs looked at him, surprised. "He's under lock and key, Duck. And he's obviously dangerous… no judge is going to give him bail."

Ducky nodded. Gibbs started to leave the room, then had a thought and turned back. "What's up with DiNozzo, Duck?"

Ducky was momentarily lost in thought, and started a bit at the question. "Oh. Anthony… well, Jethro, you must know that you can't expect him to simply stand by when you are threatened. And some of Mr. Johnson's interest in you was sexual in nature; Anthony picked up on that. I believe that was the proverbial last straw, and he was coming into Interrogation to protect you."

Gibbs frowned. "Any of his victims show signs of rape?"

Ducky shook his head. "Nothing in the autopsy reports. But if Mr. Johnson is to be taken at face value, I wouldn't put it past him to attempt it in your case."

Gibbs shot him a disbelieving look. "You're not serious."

"Very much so, Jethro. His emotional connection to what he calls his art is clearly very strong, and for the subject of art to arouse sexual interest is not unheard of. You obviously intrigue him very much. He has chosen you as his masterpiece, as he put it, and he will certainly try to fulfill his artistic goals if at all possible. And I can't even begin to fathom what those might be."

Fear and Reassurance

Tony walked out of his bathroom, a towel around his waist, using another to dry his hair. The encounter with Johnson had made him feel as if he had bugs crawling on his skin, and a shower had seemed like a really good idea. He'd had to wait until they had more information for Gibbs, who'd made it clear no one was leaving until they had at least a possible answer for why the psycho wasn't targeting all branches of the military. Tony had found out that Johnson had two cousins close to his age; one was career Navy and one had spent close to ten years in the Marines. Ziva had discovered that Johnson's parents had died in a car crash, and Johnson had been sent to live with his cousins' family. McGee had been the one to track down school records, which showed multiple investigations into possible abuse in that home; the school psychologist had concluded that the aunt and uncle had been well-meaning but oblivious to what their sons were doing to torment the boy. She had recommended family counseling. There was no record to show whether counseling had taken place or if the abuse had ever stopped.

So they had a working theory for the general whys of the case, although they didn't have a good understanding of what caused Johnson to target specific people, and no clue about the trigger that set him on the killing spree in the first place. The psych evaluation might tell them something. If not, Gibbs intended to interrogate further, and that worried Tony. Johnson was already fixated on Gibbs, and Tony didn't want that sicko anywhere near his lover. He wasn't sure how to ask Gibbs to stay away, something that would have been almost unthinkable before they'd become involved, and was still fraught with peril, albeit of a different kind. Tony didn't want personal feelings affecting the job, although he knew they'd both been guilty of that today, although in very different ways. Gibbs had been affectionate, and Tony had been protective. I guess Abby would say that's not much different from before. Tony knew that Gibbs had always had a rarely displayed affection for his team, and he also knew that he'd always been protective of his boss. We just have more reasons now, that's all.

Tony dressed in black sweat pants and a dark green t-shirt, leaving his feet bare. He'd called for the Chinese food just before getting in the shower; it would be there soon. He figured Gibbs would reheat whatever didn't stay hot enough. He looked around the apartment, trying to find something to do, to distract himself from what he was trying very hard not to think about. That damn dream. How is it possible that I saw Johnson in that dream? Maybe I was worried about this interrogation and my subconscious used the pictures I saw when McGee and Ziva first cracked the case. Hey, that could work! Tony felt a lot happier, until he remembered that it was clear in the dream that Johnson had gotten to Gibbs, and that Tony was going to be too late. That seemed a lot more like a premonition than a dream. He almost wished he had suggested they meet up at Gibbs' house so he could go to the basement and talk to Shannon. He knew Gibbs did that; he'd witnessed it last weekend. I wonder how that would go over… 'Hey, Jeth, can we go over to your place so we can talk to your dead wife and find out how to protect you from a psychopathic killer?' Piece of cake.

There was a knock at the door. Tony grabbed the money he'd put on the kitchen counter and looked through the security peephole. Dinner. He opened the door, got the food, handed the delivery guy the money, including a sizable tip, and pushed the door shut with his foot. He took the bags into the kitchen and started unloading, then nearly dropped pork fried rice all over the floor when a pair of arms encircled his waist. The startled yelp that escaped from his mouth did absolutely nothing for his ego.

The arms let go, and Tony whirled around, ready to do battle, only to find a surprised Jethro backing off. He sagged back against the counter and tried not to look even worse than he already had. He glanced at Jethro, who had a rather amused expression on his face that he tried hard to change to concern when he saw Tony looking at him.

"How'd you get in?"

"Delivery guy was leaving just as I got on your floor. You shut the door but didn't lock it, so I walked in. Didn't mean to startle you, thought you heard me." Jethro took off his jacket and went back to the door, throwing the deadbolt and grabbing the pack he'd left by the door. He walked to the bedroom, calling out, "That'll teach you to lock your door, Tony!"

Tony returned to unpacking the food. "Another example of do as I say, not as I do?"

There was silence for a moment; Tony figured Jethro was changing out of work clothes. Sure enough, a few minutes later Jethro strolled into the kitchen, wearing worn jeans and a USMC t-shirt. Like Tony, he was barefoot. He came right up to Tony's side, leaning his chin on Tony's shoulder while the food was portioned out onto plates. "I lock up when you're at the house." Tony shook his head, grinning. Jethro leaned in and nipped Tony's neck. "I'm hungry." Tony laughed.

They sat on stools at the kitchen counter, mostly silent while they ate and drank the imported beer Jethro had brought. A few comments flew back and forth, mostly about Ziva's and McGee's projected recovery time, and if they were likely to get a case this weekend. They were second in line to be called in, unless the first call merited the response of the MCRT.

It didn't take them long to finish eating, and neither one wanted seconds as Tony had put large helpings on both plates. He picked up one of the two fortune cookies, cracked it open, and fished out the fortune. He read it out loud: "You will have an interesting life." Jethro raised an eyebrow at him. Tony shrugged. "Right so far." He tossed the second cookie to Jethro, who caught it, cracked it, squinted at the strip of paper, then sighed and handed it off to Tony, who took one look at it and almost fell out of his chair laughing. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt and he couldn't breathe. Jethro finally had to grab him by the shoulders and hang on to him, warning him that if he didn't stop he'd probably be sick and lose his dinner. Tony finally got himself under control, wiping his eyes and giggling a little every few seconds. He looked over at Jethro, whose expression clearly showed both curiosity and impatience. Jethro started to say something, but Tony held up his hand. "No, I got it." He took a deep breath – and broke into giggles again. Jethro reached out and smacked him upside the head. "Okay, okay. Really. I'm good." Tony cleared his throat, closed his eyes, took another deep breath, opened his eyes, and read, "You are the lone flower of meditation in the wilderness," followed by another series of giggles.

Silence.

"What?"

Tony grinned. "This is awesome. I'm texting Abby." He got up and reached for his phone, while Jethro grabbed the fortune and tried to read it, holding it at different lengths from his eyes and squinting. He glared at Tony when Tony used his cell to snap a picture of him. Tony fired off the text, then grabbed the fortune from Jethro before anything unfortunate could happen to it. "I'm framing this. And putting it up behind your desk at work." His phone beeped; he checked it quickly, grinning.

"What did she say?"

"ROTFL."

Jethro stared at him. "Huh?"

Tony sighed. "I'm getting you a chatspeak dictionary for your birthday."

Jethro rolled his eyes, then grabbed his beer and headed into the living room. Tony hid the fortune, not trusting Jethro to not get rid of it. He picked up his own beer after doing a quick clean up and joined Jethro on the couch.

The older man was sitting in one corner, feet propped up on the coffee table. Tony sat next to him, leaving a little space between them. As soon as he set his beer down next to Jethro's, he felt hands on his shoulders and was maneuvered into lying down with his head on Jethro's lap and the rest of him stretched out on the couch. "Nice, Jeth."

Jethro smiled at him and ran his fingers through Tony's hair. "Want the condensed version of my… discussion with Vance?"

Tony nodded. "I take it no blood was spilled since you didn't end up under arrest."

Jethro tilted his head. "It was close." He sank back into the cushions a bit, resting one hand on Tony's chest while the other continued to comb through his hair. He gave Tony a quick summary, ending with, "… so I think we should stick to the plan, and you should take the full two weeks before telling him your decision."

Tony nodded. "I don't like this business of you owing him anything."

"Me neither. But without that concession, he'd have forced the transfer." Jethro's hand stilled, and he looked down at Tony. "Tony… you can still change your mind. It would be a good career move for you. I'd understand."

Tony shook his head. "Not going to change my mind, Jeth. Not just because of this," – he waved his hand at the two of them – "but because I'm happy where I am. Don't see a need to change things."

Jethro reached for Tony's left hand with his right, interlocking their fingers and bringing both hands to rest on Tony's chest. "Good." He leaned forward to grab his beer, sucking in his stomach when Tony pretended to bite him.

"No fair, I can't drink beer in this position."

"So sit up."

"Don't wanna."

Jethro grinned, and leaned down to brush a kiss over Tony's lips. He sat back up before Tony could get his free hand up to the back of Jethro's head and hold him in place. "So… you remember where you saw Johnson before?"

Tony stilled, his entire body tensing under Jethro's hands. Jethro quickly leaned down and gave him another kiss. "I shouldn't have asked."

Tony let go of Jethro's hand and sat up when Jethro did. "No, it's okay. I remembered about midway through the interrogation. It's just… look, can we not talk about it tonight? Tomorrow, I'll fill you in. Tonight, I just want to not think about it."

Jethro nodded. "I can do that."

Tony looked at him, then away, rubbing his neck. Jethro watched him for a moment, then stood, holding out his hand to Tony. "Come on."

Tony looked up, then grabbed Jethro's hand and let himself be pulled up. Jethro interlocked their fingers again, and led Tony around the apartment, turning off lights and putting the beers in the sink before leading him into the bedroom.

Once there, he dropped Tony's hand and went around closing the curtains, turning the lights down but not off, and pulling the sheets down to the foot of the bed. Tony watched, feeling slightly strange that Jethro had taken charge in Tony's apartment, but not inclined to complain… he needed this. He wanted the reassurance of Jethro in charge tonight. After arranging things to his satisfaction, Jethro walked over to Tony and gently kissed his cheek. "Hang on, I'll be right back." He disappeared into the bathroom. Tony started to move over to the bed, then changed his mind and left the room in search of the second bathroom. He returned to find Jethro standing next to the bed, naked. Tony turned to shut the door behind him, even though it wasn't necessary, just wanting to increase the feeling of security.

When he turned back, he found Jethro standing right in front of him. He started to say something, but Jethro laid a finger over his lips. "Let me take care of you tonight. I know you had a hard time this afternoon… let me make it up to you." He removed his finger when Tony nodded. Jethro leaned in and brushed a light kiss over his lips, then moved his mouth to Tony's ear. "You just tell me if there's anything you want, Tony," he whispered. "I'll do my best to give it to you." Tony closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded. He kept his eyes closed when he felt Jethro take hold of the bottom of his t-shirt, and raised his arms so it could be easily removed. He felt Jethro's fingers slide along the waistband of his sweatpants, then along the skin right above it, then in-between skin and cloth, gently moving the pants over Tony's budding erection and down his legs. Tony stepped out of them, eyes still closed, felt Jethro take his hand, and let himself be led to the bed.

"Sit," Jethro said softly, and Tony did. He felt the bed dip slightly as Jethro sat next to him, then he felt Jethro's hands on his skin, one stroking his thigh, the other moving from his abdomen, up his chest, then sliding around to the back of his neck, pulling Tony in a little. Then there was the soft slide of Jethro's lips over Tony's, just lips, nothing else, punctuated by the murmur of words Tony couldn't really hear; he just let the sound and feel wash over him.

Both hands were in Tony's hair now, stroking and holding him in place while Jethro's lips and tongue played with Tony's mouth, caressing, exploring, invading. Tony started to respond, reaching up to touch Jethro, but Jethro pulled back, murmuring again, telling Tony "shhh, let me… just let go, just feel…" and Tony let his hands drop back to his sides, eyes still closed, feeling safe.

Jethro kept one hand in Tony's hair and kept kissing him, moving away from his mouth to his neck and then back, nipping lightly here and there. His other hand traveled down Tony's body, fingers skimming lightly over his skin until he reached Tony's cock, running his fingers lightly over and around that as well, then over Tony's balls, caressing, until Tony started to moan into the kisses. Jethro gently licked Tony's lips, then shifted his weight off the bed, sliding down to the floor, kissing Tony's thighs, stroking his leg with one hand while the other continued to caress Tony's cock and balls. He moved his mouth closer and closer to Tony's groin, until finally he placed a kiss on the hard shaft in his hand, then licked up to the head, kissing there as well.

"Oh, god," Tony whispered, eyes still closed, head falling back a little now, feeling Jethro's lips and tongue move over him and encircle him, kisses falling on his cock and his balls, a little suction here and there, until Tony started to feel as if he was going to burn up from the inside. "Please," he whispered, and Jethro moved to sit next to him again.

"What do you want, Tony? Tell me how to make you feel good."

Tony blinked his eyes open, taking a moment to bring himself back to reality. He looked at Jethro's face; his lover's eyes were wide and dark, his lips swollen from kissing, love and desire easy to read. He let his eyes travel over Jethro's body, over the muscular chest and abs, down to the very hard and straining erection. He reached out to touch, caressing Jethro now, watching at it was Jethro's turn to gasp and moan and let his head fall back with the pleasure of it. He leaned in, kissing and licking Jethro's neck, reaching up to run his fingers through Jethro's hair, grabbing lightly and bringing his head back to his own, lips meeting lips passionately. Tony groaned into the kiss as Jethro responded, letting Tony take the lead. Moving his hand slowly up and down Jethro's cock, twisting a little, gathering precome onto his fingers and spreading it over Jethro's cock, he watched through half-closed eyes as Jethro's hips started to move with his stroking, and Jethro's breath came faster.

Jethro pulled back from the kisses a little, continuing to thrust slowly into Tony's hand. He reached up, caressing the side of Tony's face. "Is this what you want me to do, Tony? You want me to come in your hand, to watch and see what you do to me?" Tony nodded, then shook his head, slowing the motion of his hand until it stopped, and he just held Jethro's cock. Jethro leaned into him, resting his forehead on Tony's shoulder for a moment. He moved back a bit, speaking low into Tony's ear. "Whatever you want, Tony. I love you."

Tony shuddered, letting go of Jethro's cock and wrapping his arms around his waist, holding on tightly. "I want you to be safe, Jeth."

"I am, Tony. I'm here, with you, we're both safe." Jethro ran one hand soothingly along Tony's back, the other making it way up to Tony's hair, caressing and massaging.

Tony pulled back, looking into Jethro's eyes. "Jeth… would you… I want you inside me."

Jethro sat up, looking intently in Tony's eyes, then nodded. "Anything you want. Just tell me if you change your mind."

Tony nodded, then scooted back on the bed, reaching for the nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom and a packet of lube. He handed the packet to Jethro, who opened it, hands shaking slightly, and put a generous amount on his fingers. Tony opened the condom wrapper, and rolled the sheath onto Jethro cock, holding out his hand toward the packet of lube. Jethro put some on his fingers, and Tony reached down and slowly started to cover Jethro's cock with the slippery stuff. Jethro's eyes closed and he breathed in sharply, the air escaping in a slight hiss. After a moment Tony leaned in and kissed Jethro's lips hungrily, then pulled back and moved to lie on his stomach. He felt Jethro shift on the bed, one hand caressing Tony's shoulders then moving down his back, tracing his spine, then reaching his ass, caressing and massaging his cheeks. Then there were lubed fingers sliding between his cheeks, caressing his anus, tracing the tight ring of muscle until Tony's hips jerked and the muscle started to relax. One slippery finger circled the edge of that ring, then slipped inside, moving back and forth and around, soothing and relaxing while the other hand continued to rub and squeeze.

Tony groaned in pleasure as a second finger joined the first, introducing more lube and slowly relaxing and widening the passage. Jethro's leg moved over Tony's, pulling them closer, letting Jethro's cock press up against Tony's thigh. Jethro started to rock against Tony, and Tony began to move with him, small sounds escaping his mouth as Jethro's fingers moved and twisted inside him, reaching deeper and moving apart.

A third finger, and Tony was rocking back on Jethro's hand in earnest now, breathing heavily. "Soon, Jeth, please…" Jethro's forehead dropped to Tony's back, and Tony could hear him saying "god, Tony, you feel so good, wanna be in you, gonna be amazing" and then Jethro's fingers slipped out of Tony and his hands were gently spreading Tony's cheeks a bit further apart, and then the head of Jethro's cock pressed against the muscle and slid smoothly in.

Tony gasped and tried to move back and take more of Jethro's cock inside, but Jethro had a firm grip on his hips and wouldn't let him move. "Wait, Tony…. I don't want to hurt you, give yourself a minute." Tony could feel Jethro's body trembling, and knew he was holding back, fighting the desire to bury himself quickly. Tony forced himself to relax, let himself open up a bit more, and Jethro slowly slid in, moving a little at a time, until he was finally all the way there.

Jethro leaned in to Tony, kissing his shoulder and neck, whispering words of love. He gently pulled with his leg and hand, shifting them both onto their sides, restricting his own movement so he would be less likely to lose control and thrust too hard. He shifted so he was flush against Tony's body, then moved his hand to grasp Tony's cock. His right arm was trapped under Tony's side, but he move his hand enough to reach Tony's left nipple, and he played with that while he waited for Tony to adjust to the new position.

Tony felt full and safe and completely in the moment. There was no pain, just a joy in the connection that he never wanted to lose. He began shallow thrusts with his hips, his cock into Jethro's hand, his ass around Jethro's cock. Jethro started to move with him, and they moved slowly at first, then began to build speed and force, Jethro's hand tightening on Tony's cock, Tony clenching around Jethro. There were no words, just movement and the sound of breathing and skin on skin and pleasure, until Tony's breath stuttered and he gasped and cried out as he came hard into Jethro's hand and all over himself and the sheets. Jethro continued to thrust hard into Tony, control lost, pressing his whole body against him as if he wanted to get all of him inside. He moved his hand from Tony's spent cock, wrapping his arm around Tony and thrusting in one last time as he held Tony tightly against him, a sound in-between a groan and a scream released from his chest as he pulsed and came inside Tony, his whole body shaking with release.

They lay there, still joined, until they were breathing normally again. Jethro slowly and carefully eased his way out of Tony, shifting away from him, removing the condom and wrapping it in a tissue he grabbed from the nightstand. Tony rolled onto his back, reaching out to smooth Jethro's sweaty hair. Jethro grabbed a few more tissues and cleaned Tony off as best he could, then dropped all of it onto the floor, reaching for Tony and pulling him into a hug. He buried his face in Tony's neck, and Tony felt Jethro's shoulders shaking just a little. He said nothing, just caressed his lover until Jethro sniffed a bit and pulled back. Tony moved his hand to the side of Jethro's face, looking into eyes with slightly damp lashes.

"Thank you, Jeth. Thank you so much. You gave me just what I needed." Tony leaned in, kissing Jethro's lips lightly, whispering "I love you."

Tony held his lover until he felt Jethro start to relax, and pulled back enough to reach for the sheets at the foot of the bed, pulling them up to cover them both. Tony lay on his back; Jethro moved to throw one leg over Tony's, lay his arm across Tony's chest, and his head on Tony's shoulder. They were asleep within minutes, the light still bathing them in a soft glow.