So, this story started out as one story and ended something different! I hope it's okay, just another slice of life into the world of our boys in my Taken universe. Might seem a bit out of character, but after I wrote it, it made perfect sense...at least to me! Reviews are love.


Taken: TLC

Leroy Jethro Gibbs' day started out bad and just kept getting worse as it wore on.

It began with Gibbs waking up alone, the other side of the bed cold and empty. A fission of fear raced through Gibbs at the lack of Tony until he remembered that Tony was scheduled for an MTAC conference with Bahrain this morning. The fear abated a bit, only to be joined by anger at himself for feeling that way. Tony isn't going to leave you, he thought for the hundredth time. He tried to shake the anger (and the fear) but they stayed with him as he climbed out of bed.

The bad day continued when Gibbs got out of bed, twisting his bad knee after stepping on Tony's belt buckle. With a curse, he picked up the pants and belt and tossed it against the wall (conveniently forgetting that he was the one who tore the pants off Tony in an effort to get the other man naked as quickly as possible). He quickly showered and shaved (cutting himself twice), dressed in his normal polo, jacket and chino set. More badness happened downstairs when he burned his hand while pouring coffee, dropping his mug and watching as it shattered on the floor, splashing coffee up onto his shirt and jacket. Cursing again, he swept up the mess and limped upstairs to change, mood getting even worse when all he could find to wear was either a suit shirt (and even to him it was too hot in Washington to wear long sleeves) or the dreaded lavender polo shirt (that Tony had forced him to buy, telling him it made his eyes pop). Shaking his head in frustration, he changed his clothes, limped back downstairs, grabbed a plastic thermos filled with coffee and headed to his Charger.

Two hour later, Gibbs walked off the elevator. The Charger had decided today was a good day to choke and sputter and die, right on 8th Street and Pennsylvania Avenue, blocking traffic for a half-hour before the tow truck could get to him. He'd called Tony but only got his voice mail, then rode in the tow truck, talked to his mechanic and found out he needed a new timing chain (ignoring the fact that Tony had suggested something like that last week) and he'd have to special order it, so the Charger was out of commission for at least a week. After growling his assent Gibbs grabbed a cab over to the Navy Yard.

"Hey Boss," McGee said, then slumped down in his chair after receiving an angry grunt in response.

"Where's DiNozzo?" he asked, seeing Tony's desk empty (and tamping down that fear once more).

"Still in MTAC," Ziva said, entering the bullpen. "He sent a text that you were going to be late. Is everything alright?"

"Just peachy," he growled. "We have anything?" They'd hit a dead end in a case of drug smuggling.

"I think so, Boss," McGee said, his voice a bit shaky but bravely standing up, pointing the remote at the plasma behind Gibbs. They discussed what McGee found, decided it was worth investigating, and he sent Ziva and McGee out to bring back the suspect.

Tony still wasn't out of MTAC by the time they returned. He told McGee to toss the lieutenant they suspected of smuggling into an interrogation room and followed a few moments after. He spied Tony coming toward him as he paused before opening the door. "Good of you to join us, DiNozzo," he said.

"Boss?" Tony's eyes were wide with questions.

Gibbs nodded to the other room. "Get in and observe," he ordered, hand on the knob and twisting savagely.

McGee was inside interrogation and handed him a file. Gibbs sat down, ignoring the sputtering lieutenant and opened the file, hand automatically going to his inside jacket pocket for his glasses and coming up…empty. He tried the other pockets, then remembered changing his jacket after the coffee spill this morning. Sighing deeply, he tossed the file to McGee and ordered the other man to read what they've found.

The interrogation didn't take long, their case sewed up in record time. Gibbs was soon back at his desk, glaring again at the empty space of Tony's desk. "Where the hell is DiNozzo now?" he roared.

"Right here, Boss," Tony said, smiling as he put down the coffee in front of Gibbs. "Nice shirt."

Their eyes met, Tony's sparkling with mischief, and Gibbs felt his stomach untwist a bit. "Thanks," he said, taking a deep gulp of the hot liquid.

"Figured you'd need it," Tony said, nodding a bit to the right.

Gibbs slanted his eyes and groaned, spying an angry Vance headed his way. Fuck, he thought. What now?

Vance was happy to tell him. "We had a budget meeting scheduled, Agent Gibbs."

"I was with a suspect, Director," Gibbs replied.

"And now you're not." Vance started back toward the stairs.

Gibbs sighed, picked up his coffee and limped after Vance (the stairs were hard on his knee but he was dammed if Leon Vance would get the better of him). He was unaware of Tony's gaze following, a look of concern crossing his face.

By 1830 Tony and Gibbs were on the way home in Tony's car, the Corvette he'd bought after his Mustang was destroyed. Gibbs squirmed in the small car, wondering for the hundredth time why Tony couldn't buy a real car instead of this clown car (refusing to remember how happy Tony had been when he'd found it). He glanced at the younger man he slouched in the driver's seat. How Tony fit in the damn car was beyond Gibbs, watching Tony's hands moving over the wheel with a light touch, his long legs shifting the clutch and brake with ease, Tony seemed to fit the ridiculous car perfectly while Gibbs just felt over sized and awkward (especially since Tony was two inches taller than Gibbs, a fact verified one night with two marks along the wall of the basement). The black mood settled even more firmly onto Gibbs, the only bright light being that Tony was unusually quiet, slipping a soft music cd into the dash and not speaking.

They reached the house, Tony pressing the remote to open the garage door. Since the Charger wasn't there, Tony parked in the middle of the space. Gibbs opened his car door, catching himself as he practically tumbled out onto the garage floor (twisting his knee once more getting out of the damn stupid machine). He pulled himself up and slammed the door with a curse before rounding the Corvette and entering the house.

Tony watched Gibbs disappear into the house, wondering what the hell was going on. He entered the house and grabbed a beer, twisting off the cap and stepping on the trash can pedal to toss the cap away, spying the broken mug and coffee stained towel. An inkling of an idea started in Tony's head as he lopped up the stairs and into their room, spying the dirty shirt and jacket crumpled on the floor. He picked both up, reaching his hand into the jacket and pulling out Gibbs' glasses, shaking his head ruefully. Entering the bathroom, he noted the drops of blood in the sink and shook his head again, reaching for the big fluffy towel on the rack, the oil from the cabinet, and the lube from the shelf.

Gibbs sat against the sawhorse, the mug of bourbon cradled in his hand. All he wanted to do was forget today ever happened. From the moment he woke up (without Tony) to getting home, everything went wrong. Gibbs had had some bad days, and yes, some worse than today, but right now it was hard to think of many. He took another sip of bourbon, the heat of the liquor seeping into him and warming from the inside out. He heard steps above him and glared at the ceiling. Tony must have picked up on Gibbs' emotions and steered clear of him and his bad mood, which actually made Gibbs even angrier. Gibbs had somehow expected Tony to make a fuss, to try and cajole Gibbs out of his bad mood. Isn't that what couples did? Cared about each others emotions and moods and tried to make things better? Gibbs poured another mug of bourbon, downing it on gulp before slamming the mug on the work bench. Why hasn't Tony come to find him, ask about him? He levered himself off the sawhorse and headed for the stairs.

The first floor was empty, dark except for the light over the stove. He smelled something cooking and opened the oven to see a frozen lasagna inside. Gibbs' anger notched up once more. Trust DiNozzo to care about his stomach rather than me, he thought (ignoring his own growing hunger), heading for the stairs. He got the landing at the top and paused, hearing music coming from the bedroom. Gibbs wondered what the hell was going on and pushed the door open.

Tony sat on their bed, clothed only in boxers, candles illuminating the room and the soft music playing on the stereo. The bed was covered by a towel and a bottle of massage oil was perched on the nightstand. Gibbs stood still as Tony rose from the bed, a small smile playing on his lips as he approached Gibbs.

"You had just about the worst day today, didn't you?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Tony's hands were busy, stripping Gibbs of his jacket and slipping his polo and undershirt over his head in record time. Taking hold of his belt, Tony walked him over to the bed, slipping open his pants and dropping both them and his briefs on to the floor. With a gentle shove, a naked Gibbs sat on the bed while Tony reached down and removed his shoes and socks, turning his legs to stretch out on the bed before turning him onto his stomach. Tony straddled Gibbs' hips before grabbing the massage oil, warming it in his hands before lowering them to Gibbs' tight shoulders and back.

He rubbed and massaged for a good ten minutes before speaking. "Want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked, voice soft against Gibbs' ear.

"Hmmm. Right now, nothing is wrong," Gibbs answered.

"Jethro…"

"Just a bad day," came the reply.

"Jethro…"

Gibbs sighed. "I twisted my knees, cut myself shaving, spilled my coffee, broke my car, forgot my glasses, met with Vance for three fucking hours, then had to ride home in your car." He shivered as Tony pressed hard on a knot of muscle. "Like I said, just a bad day."

"You've had bad days before," Tony noted. "But this one seemed different." He leaned down and ran his tongue along Gibbs' ear, repeating his question. "Why?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Nothing different," he insisted.

"Yeah, it was." Tony continued his massage, thumbs moving down Gibbs' back, eliciting a groan from the other man. "Seemed..off to me. What was it?"

Gibbs turned his head and buried his face in his pillow.

"Uh huh," Tony said, bending down to nip along the back of Gibbs' neck. "No hiding."

He turned his head to answer. "Tony, just let it go, okay? Do we have to talk out everything?" Tony's hands paused, and Gibbs knew he'd said the wrong thing. God, he was such a screw up. He sighed as Tony resumed the massage, but felt the tension between them and hated it. Hated it, especially considering..."You weren't here," Gibbs admitted with a sigh. Tony's hands paused again, and Gibbs took advantage of that to twist onto his back, keeping Tony straddled over his thighs. "I woke up and you weren't here and…I panicked. Forgetting that you were going into work early, my first thought was that you'd left…me."

Tony sat back on his heels, stunned by the words. "Jethro..."

"And it made me angry, to think that, because I know you won't, I know that, Tony, but dammit, I did. So then I was angry at me, and angry at you for making me scared even though it was my own fault, then, well, all that other stuff happened and, well, here we are." Gibbs looked up at Tony, unable to read his expression. It was too much, Gibbs thought. Tony wasn't expecting whiny girl Gibbs and he'd ruined it…He reached a hand up to touch the dog tags that Tony wore. His dog tags. He paused when Tony took hold the hand and brought it to his mouth for a soft kiss.

"Jethro…that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," Tony finally said.

Gibbs sighed in relief.

"And also the stupidest!" Tony dropped his hand to reach up and smack Gibbs on the top of the head. "How dare you think I'd leave you like that? That I'd leave you at all?" Tony scrambled off of Gibbs's thighs and almost made it off the bed before strong arms grabbed his waist and tossed him back. There was a short battle of wills before Gibbs subdued Tony, firm legs trapping him flat on the bed.

Defiant green eyes flashed up at Gibbs. "How could you think that?" Tony asked again. "How could you ever think I'd leave you?"

"Because it's happened twice before, just like that!" Gibbs admitted, gripping a bit tighter on Tony's wrists and pushing them into the bed. "Wife two and four, Tony. I woke up, and they were gone."

"I'm not one of your fucking ex wives, Gibbs," Tony argued. "I'm me, Tony DiNozzo, the idiot who's so in love with you I can't even see straight most of the time, and you…you think I'd leave?"

"I know you wouldn't do that, Tony," Gibbs shouted back. "But I wasn't thinking straight, not at six in the morning with an empty bed." He lowered his head and rested it against Tony's chest, feeling the heart beating deep inside. "I'm sorry."

Tony winched at that apology. He pushed against Gibbs hold on his hands and came loose, wrapping his arms around the older man. "Damn, Jethro," he sighed, running hands along the naked back. "What am I going to do with you?"

Gibbs sighed into the caress, the heat building in his groin as it lay next to Tony's. "I can think of one thing," Gibbs said, pushing down a bit and letting Tony feel his hardening cock.

Tony laughed at the cheesy line. "I can't believe you said that!"

He kissed the smile off Tony's face, a deep, long kiss full of pain and passion and asking of forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Tony," he whispered against Tony's mouth. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

"Shh." Tony reached up and circled Gibbs' face with his hands. "It's okay, Jethro," he sighed, ghosting a kiss along soft lips. "I love you, too," he said right before Gibbs took his mouth again.

The kiss was soft and gentle and tentative, lips shy before they pressed a bit harder. Tony smiled against Gibbs' mouth, opening for the kiss and for his love. Gibbs took that as an invitation and deepened the kiss, tongue pressing deep and tasting all the love Tony was offering.

"Make love to me, Jethro," Tony sighed, hips canting up to press against Gibbs' hardness. "Please…take me…love me."

"I do, Tony," Gibbs vowed. He lifted up a bit, stripping the boxers from Tony's hips and palming the hardness he found between Tony's legs. Swallowing Tony's groan, he pressed harder, knee moving between Tony's legs to spread them out, hand dipping lower to rub the sac found there, making Tony writhe under him. "That's my Tony," he sighed, pulling a bit on Tony's balls before gripping the hard cock above. Gibbs groaned as Tony's hand grasped his own cock, rubbing the leaking head and pumping the hot hard flesh in a tight grip. He reached over to the nightstand and pulled the small bottle toward him, aiming toward his hand and hoping he found his mark. Tony's scent and mouth and hand were driving him crazy and he wanted…needed…to make Tony his own, to establish his place in Tony's heart and mind and body.

The cold lube shocked Tony until it was followed by Gibbs' hand, stroking his cock and moving underneath to his center. He groaned as a finger slipped in, then two, all the while kissing Gibbs and hips moving toward those fingers and oh, god, he just needed…wanted. "Please," he begged, pulling Gibbs closer to him. "Please, now, Jethro."

Gibbs shifted so both legs were between Tony's, his hands spreading Tony's thighs and lifting his hips. He nubbed his cock to Tony's entrance, letting Tony know he was ready, smiling as the younger man's legs encircled his hips and pulled him closer. With a strong, hard push Gibbs was inside.

"Jethro…" Tony groaned as Gibbs pushed inside him.

Gibbs groaned as well, the hot heat of Tony encasing him, Tony's long legs encircling him, his arms holding him close. He had a fleeting thought of himself this morning, wondering about Tony's absence, and shook the thought away, knowing this man, this wonderful man under him wanted him, needed him, loved him and would never, ever leave him. With that thought, Gibbs increased the speed of his hips and slipped a hand between their bodies, grasping Tony's cock and mimicking his hip movements with his hand until he heard Tony cry out and felt Tony's hot seed spill over his hand. With a few more thrusts Gibbs' hips seized, then relaxed as he exploded inside his mate.

A few minutes later Gibbs pulled out of Tony and made his way to the bathroom, running a cloth along his own body before grabbing a towel to clean Tony off. He wiped along Tony's softening cock before tossing the towel away. A hand ran along his chest and he smiled down at Tony, loving the soft and sated look in his eyes.

"You love me?" Tony asked, hand moving down to clasp on of Gibbs' own.

"Very much," Gibbs answered, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on Tony's mouth. "And I'm sorr.."

"No, don't apologize again." Tony's hand stopped his words. "I love you, you love me, we're okay." A soft rumble sounded in the room.

"And we're hungry," Gibbs said with a laugh.

Tony's eyes brightened. "Lasagna!" he shouted, jumping out of bed and out the door.

Later that night, Gibbs held Tony close as they fell into sleep.

And in the morning…Tony was there.