Rating: FRAO
Warnings: M/M, sex, language, kink, piercings, abusive parent, serial killer, talk about rape/non-con. Violence. Secondary character death (bad guys).
Genre: Slash, romance, first time, angst, h/c, case fic, pre-show AU
Pairing: DiNozzo/Gibbs

A/N: If you enjoy my story, please leave me a comment - I love to hear from you! Thanks to my betas.

Craving Coffee
Chapter 37 - The Winning Hand

"You lookin' to get fired? 'Cause you're riding real close to the edge right now, Probie. If we don't get that warrant and find the latest victim, we might as well all kiss our jobs goodbye." Franks motioned for Gibbs to walk with him into the hotel's corridor where there were no listening devices.

The last thing Gibbs wanted was to be removed from the case but no matter what went down he'd protect Tony at all costs. "I don't care whether I'm wearing a badge or not, Mike. I am not leaving Tony's side until this is all over and done with."

Tony followed the two agents to the door, anxiously listening in on their conversation. Gibbs held up his hand to indicate that Tony should stay inside the hotel room. "I'm not going far," Gibbs assured the young man and then stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind him.

Once they were a little way down the hallway, Franks said in a terse voice, "Nobody's asking for your gun or your badge, Probie. The director and SecNav agree that you're too valuable an agent to take off this case. 'Sides, you're the only one who can make coffee the way I like it, black as tar and bitter as hell."

Gibbs released a sigh of relief and nodded his thanks to Mike Franks. He recognized that his boss, for whom he had a great deal of respect, had spoken up for him with the brass.

Although he had only been with NCIS for a short time, Gibbs had quickly graduated from being a probie who lugged the evidence-collecting cases to crime scenes, to Special Agent Mike Franks' second-in-command. It was a coveted position on the best investigative team in the agency, and one that Gibbs was proud to hold. Like his mentor, Gibbs sometimes bucked authority and did things his own way, if that's what it took to put the bad guys behind bars. Because Franks' team had a reputation for getting the job done, the director of NCIS allowed them some leeway, but all the same, if Gibbs broke protocol, Morrow would have to discipline him. Gibbs would accept any punishment that was meted out, but his first priority was taking care of Tony – and nothing could sway him on that matter.

"You're already in the doghouse for tryin' to wring Fornell's neck," warned Franks as he eyed Gibbs. "Now we have Senior DiNozzo demanding a lawyer 'cause you roughed him up. This isn't like you, Gunny, using your fists so freely."

Franks waited a moment to see what Gibbs' explanation might be, but Gibbs couldn't even start to explain how his instinct to protect Tony overtook his common sense.

When he saw that he wasn't about to get an answer, Franks grunted and said, "I don't want to see any more strikes against you. Need you on my team, not wasting your time with internal affairs."

Gibbs smirked in response. "Hey, Fornell doesn't hold any grudge." Besides, the director wouldn't put a warning in his personnel jacket unless Fornell lodged a formal complaint, and Gibbs had a pretty strong hunch that wasn't about to happen. Gibbs raised his shoulders nonchalantly. "He's okay – for an FBI agent."

Franks shook his head ruefully and said, "Looks like you two are cut from the same cloth, Gunny." Serious once again, Franks said, "Orders from the top say we have to tread lightly in this investigation. Apparently SecNav is reluctant to give any direct orders that'll come between him and his poker buddy, Senator Harding. Just the same, SecNav has said, on the record, that we should take whatever steps are necessary to get this investigation wrapped up. He won't look the other way if we prove the senator is dirty but we gotta keep any fallout real quiet, comprende?"

Gibbs muttered, "Politics. I just want to get the bastard, and to get our missing petty officer back in one piece."

Franks agreed and said, "You just make sure the kid's primed and ready when the bad guys come knockin' at the door. Tell him to play it cool, let them do the talking. The minute Senator Harding gives us just cause we relay the intel to Morrow and he calls the judge for the warrants. I aim for us to be at the senator's home, and knockin' down the his door the second those orders come through, while he's sittin' here on his ass, waitin' for DiNozzo to turn up." He looked past Gibbs to the closed door of DiNozzo's suite. "You sure the kid's gonna be able to do this?"

Gibbs responded, "He's as ready as he'll ever be." Even though he assured Franks that Tony would hold up his end, Gibbs wasn't certain how Tony would react when he finally faced Harding, for whom he'd harbored a deep-seated hatred for the past four years. Gibbs didn't doubt for one second that Tony had been sincere when he had sworn that he wasn't hell-bent on revenge, and that all he wanted was to stop Sir from hurting anyone else. Unfortunately that didn't mean that Tony would be able to handle the emotional impact of meeting the man who'd raped him, and who was now the prime suspect in a series of brutal murders.

Gibbs reminded himself that Tony was smart and resilient, and that he was used to putting on an impenetrable mask when he needed to. Even so, it was one thing to put on a brave front when faced with someone you knew, as had been the case when Gibbs had questioned Tony in interrogation, and a whole other affair to go one-on-one with a murdering rapist. With a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach, Gibbs racked his brains to find any way he could get Tony out of the op without messing it up. He asked his boss, "You think that Harding and Torres are going to show up?"

Rubbing his chin, Franks said, "When you've lived on the wrong side of the law for as long as they have, you develop a sixth sense. They didn't get where they are today by trusting anyone, but I'll bet neither of those hombres will miss an opportunity to make a deal. DiNozzo's cut from the same cloth. And Torres is dangling a pretty big carrot in front of the senator's nose, offering him millions in support for his candidacy – all in squeaky-clean donations. I'd bet each one of them wants to see what the other two have to bring to the table, so yeah, my gut says they'll turn up." Franks squinted at his second and asked, "Why? You got a gut feeling of your own, Probie?"

"My gut's churning, Boss, but it could just be 'cause I'm hungry. Or I'm getting an ulcer from worryin' too much," Gibbs said with a crooked smile.

Franks chuckled and said, "You sound like Pacci. Don't worry – the team is gonna keep a close eye on Tony. We'll see he doesn't get his ass kicked. And as far as his dad goes… by the time I'm finished with DiNozzo Sr., he won't be causing you or the kid any more trouble. You have my word on that, Gibbs." He slapped Gibbs on the shoulder and said, "You take care of Tony. I'm gonna go and make sure everyone's in place."

Tony looked at the turkey on rye Gibbs had made for him and shook his head. "Not hungry," he said.

Gibbs sat opposite Tony at the small kitchen table, with a fresh, hot cup of coffee in his hand. He snagged one of the halves of Tony's sandwich from his plate and took a bite. After swallowing, Gibbs said, "That fancy French mustard's pretty good. Go ahead and eat." He made it sound like an order, knowing from what he'd seen over the past couple of days that Tony needed refueling at regular intervals. Luckily the fridge was well stocked with drinks and deli food, as well as champagne and caviar. Tony had said that his father asked that the management fill the fridge with food even though Senior always ate out. Gibbs wasn't sure if it was a sign of Senior's excess or if he was making sure there was food for his son. Somehow he doubted it was the latter.

Ever since Gibbs had returned from his little talk with Mike Franks, Tony had been eying him surreptitiously. He hadn't asked Gibbs anything but it was obvious he had some questions on his mind. Tony shifted in his chair and winced a little. Gibbs thought it must be damned uncomfortable to sit on a butt plug, and he couldn't help but picture the long rubber plug embedded in Tony's tight hole, rubbing across his hot, sensitive flesh every time he moved.

Reading his mind, Tony half-closed his eyes and gave Gibbs a sultry smile. "Every time I move it hits this certain spot…mmm. And my dick is trying to get hard but it's so tight in there that it can't get erect. And my balls are being squeezed; feels like when your hand cups them, Jethro…"

"Tony!" Gibbs breathed out noisily and muttered, "Just eat your damned sandwich. When this is all over, you and I are gonna have a serious talk about acceptable behavior in public."

Tony looked at Gibbs apprehensively but he obeyed and picked up the remaining half of his sandwich. Instead of taking a bite he asked, "Can I say something?" Gibbs glowered at Tony from under his brows and released a sigh. Apparently Tony took that to mean 'yes' because he said, "I'd prefer it if it was your hand squeezing my balls instead of–."

Gibbs rose from his chair, leaned over the table and slapped the side of Tony's head.

Tony froze for a couple of seconds then said, "Okay, eating now."

While they ate, Gibbs briefed Tony as to what might go down when Harding and Torres arrived. Tony listened intently and nodded to indicate he understood. Gibbs finished up with a stern warning. "If there's even a hint that something's not right, you head for the door. Don't say anything. No excuses, no 'gotta take a leak.' Just go."

Tony swallowed the rest of his sandwich and said, while licking his fingers, "Like Gregory Peck when he was Johnny Ringo. 'Head for the door. Keep movin' and don't do anything sudden with your hands.'"

Gibbs dropped his head so Tony wouldn't see his sudden smile, but he couldn't fool the young man. Tony was grinning at him so Gibbs said casually, "'The Gunfighter,' wasn't it? John Wayne shoulda got the part, not Peck."

"Wow, Leroy Jethro Gibbs scores a point," Tony said, his eyes dancing with amusement. "It was written for Wayne but he had some kind of dust-up with the writer, so Peck got the role."

"Wait a minute, I only get one measly point? Thought I'd scored a whole hell of a lot more than that with you so far, Tony."

"Oh yeah, you've been racking up a lot of points. Guess you'll have to wait to collect your prize though." Tony stood, bent at the waist, and leaned over the table to lick Gibbs' lips then murmured into his mouth, "Mmm, French mustard."

The feeling of Tony's tongue sliding across his lips heated up Gibbs' whole body. Damn, he couldn't take much more of this; he wanted, badly, for this case to be over so he could spend some uninterrupted time with Tony.

The second they heard someone coming, Tony sat down again and leaned back in his chair. He smiled innocently when Fornell entered and Gibbs concentrated on his coffee, which was getting cold.

His eyes darting from Gibbs to Tony, and back again, Fornell shook his head then sauntered over to the refrigerator. He pulled out a carton and poured orange juice into a couple of glasses. He raised an empty glass and asked, "Gibbs?"

Gibbs indicated the cup of coffee in front of him and grunted.

"Ready to do this, kid?" asked Fornell. He put one glass in front of Tony and leaned against the counter to sip at his own drink.

"I guess," Tony replied. He drank some of the juice and after a minute said in an offhand manner, "I want to see my dad." At Gibbs' scowl, Tony protested, "He's still my father, Gibbs."

Gibbs had a hard time keeping his irritation over Senior's unremitting hold on his son from showing. "You need to stay here and keep your focus," he said brusquely. Tony sent Gibbs a silent plea with his eyes so Gibbs snorted and said, against his better judgment, "Hey, I'm not DiNozzo's keeper. Fornell's got the last word on who sees your old man."

Tony turned to Fornell and entreated, "It might be the last time I see my dad…for a while."

Gibbs almost rolled his eyes at Tony's blatant manipulation of the FBI agent, but in reality Tony was right. This could be his last chance to see dear old Dad for some time. Once the op was over, DiNozzo Sr. would be flown back to New York where he'd spend time at Federal Plaza spilling everything to the feds – or at least that's what they expected him to do. Gibbs was pretty sure that DiNozzo wasn't about to give anything away for free even if the FBI agents were persistent.

The FBI would not stop questioning DiNozzo until they had every detail of the insider information that Senator Harding had been feeding him over the years; DiNozzo had, in turn, been selling trade and state secrets to buyers overseas, with his old friend Torres providing mob backing as needed. Once Torres found out that DiNozzo was ratting on his colleagues, the FBI would have a hell of a time providing protection to DiNozzo from being taken out by the mob. No wonder DiNozzo had been planning on fleeing the country.

Gibbs asked sarcastically, "You got a nice cell waiting for him upstate, Fornell, or are you gonna relocate him to Booniesville, Idaho with a new name?" If the feds seized DiNozzo's assets he'd be forced to comply, but Gibbs was sure that Tony's father had funds stashed in offshore banks, just waiting for him.

"We've just started talking to him, Gibbs. Let's not rush things," Fornell said in a placating manner. After a pause, the FBI agent gave Tony a nod of agreement. "All right, you can see him. Your dad's in the command center across the hall; I'll take you to him. Dr. Mallard should be wrapping things up by now."

Gibbs didn't counter Fornell's choice to allow Tony access to his father even though he hated the thought of DiNozzo Sr. getting within a mile of his son. He didn't regret beating up Senior, not for one second, even though he regretted revealing his violent side in front of Tony. Gibbs couldn't fathom how it was that Tony seemed to still care for his bastard of a father after everything the man had done to him. DiNozzo had treated Tony like a commodity, had abused and used him as a tool to further his business deals. And from what Gibbs had observed, DiNozzo Sr. didn't have one iota of affection for his own son. He never called Tony by his given name either, and Gibbs figured that was a way of objectifying him. How it was that Tony had turned out to be such a good-natured, amusing and affectionate young man was a puzzle.

Tony was avidly watching Gibbs, awaiting his approval. Eventually Gibbs gave a small, begrudging nod, even though it pained him to do so. Tony seemed to be greatly relieved, and he said a quiet thanks to Gibbs, who responded with a scornful sound. "I need to have a word with Senior first," Gibbs said as he rose from his chair.

"Hey, you keep your hands off him, Gibbs," said Fornell, alarmed. "I need DiNozzo in one piece; we're not finished with him yet."

"Tell you what, you get to hold onto Tony as collateral and I'll do my best not to hurt DiNozzo. Deal?"

"Now why do I think you'll have trouble keeping your end of the bargain, Gibbs?"

"'Cause you know me so well?" Gibbs retorted lightly. He ruffled Tony's hair and looked down into his green eyes, seeing worry revealed in their depths. Gibbs wasn't sure if the concern was for him or perhaps for his father. "You're gonna be holding the winning hand, Fornell. I'll be back for Tony, don't you worry." Those words were for Tony's benefit, to assure him he'd never leave him behind. "Semper fi," Gibbs said softly, and was rewarded by the look in Tony's eyes that told him that he understood.

Tony smoothed down his hair where Gibbs had messed it up, and replied, "Semper fi."

Gibbs turned to leave the kitchen but before he got far Tony rose from the table and was by his side.

"Wait, Jethro." After casting a quick glance back at Fornell, who was fixing himself a snack and appeared to be paying no attention to them, Tony said worriedly to Gibbs, "Director Morrow isn't going to fire you, is he?"

"No, Tony," Gibbs assured him. "It won't come down to that." Gibbs figured Tony was under the impression that his job was in jeopardy, having only heard the beginning of Gibbs' conversation out in the hallway with Mike Franks.

Tony searched Gibbs' face but didn't seem convinced. "I heard what Agent Franks said about your bosses, that they want you to step away from the operation. Look, I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. I know your job means everything to you and you can't lose it, Jethro…not because of me, and not because of my father. Neither of is worth your job and –"

"Stop, Tony," Gibbs said sharply. How could he tell the kid that it was he who was worth everything to him? "I'm fine."

Tony took hold of Gibbs' right hand. "No you're not. Look at your knuckles," Tony said, looking at the bruises and abrasions on his right hand. "You should put ice on them. And get Dr. Mallard to look at them."

Gibbs had barely noticed the damage to his hands after he'd beaten DiNozzo to the floor, and even now they didn't hurt much. "Got worse pain from arthritis in my knees," he said with a smile intended to deflect, flexing his fingers.

For once, Tony didn't return Gibbs' smile, nor did he release Gibbs' hand. "You only went after my dad because you thought he was hurting me, when we were in the bathroom," Tony said. "I'm going to go to Director Morrow and tell him the truth, about how you've been taking care of me. I mean, who else would have driven all the way over to South Brewer on a Friday night to rescue me from the cops? And you took me into your home and…" Gibbs shook his head, and Tony sighed. "Guess that's not such a good idea, huh?"

Gibbs gently clasped his free hand to the side of Tony's neck, and rubbed his thumb along his jaw, touched by the young man's concern. "Morrow knows that your father has a history of hurting you, Tony, so nobody's going to come down on me for protecting you. I'll be fine. No need to throw yourself under the bus, Tony. Look, I need you to stay here for a few minutes, then Agent Fornell can bring you over." Gibbs looked at Fornell for verification and received a nod.

The FBI agent was leaning against the counter, eating a banana. "You got a couple of minutes, Gibbs. Don't take advantage of my good nature," he warned with a taut smile.

Tony reluctantly let go of Gibbs' hand and said with resolve, "I'm not going to let them come down on you for protecting me, Jethro. It's not fair."

Gibbs couldn't help smiling. He patted Tony's cheek. "I've been through worse. Still here to talk about it."

After a long moment Tony said unhappily, "It's still not fair."

Gibbs passed by Jenny and Burley when he walked into the suite that the Excelsior Grande Hotel management had loaned them for their command center. His agents were in the living room area, huddled over a computer terminal. They were engrossed in a discussion with one of the FBI agents, a serious young man called Mallory, Gibbs recalled, about alternating transmission frequencies or some such thing that Gibbs didn't waste his time trying to understand. Two of Fornell's men were seated on the couch, one on the phone and the other checking his weapons. Gibbs nodded to them and they acknowledged him in return, their eyes watchful and businesslike; they were both gray-haired, seasoned agents, which was fine by Gibbs.

Jenny barely covered her smirk when she looked up and saw Gibbs. She casually dangled a headset from her fingers and tapped a finger to her lips, and Gibbs immediately knew that Jenny and Burley had been listening in on him and Tony over in DiNozzo's suite. He hoped to hell there hadn't been any hidden cameras in the bathroom; he'd been so engrossed in taking care of Tony that he hadn't even thought about the surveillance equipment.

Burley flushed a beet-red color but he cleared his throat and spoke up bravely. "Uh, it looks like we accidentally erased some audio we received from the bathroom mic. Nobody bothered to put a camera in there. Sorry, Agent Gibbs," he said with such a patent lack of sincerity that Gibbs made a mental note to never put Burley undercover.

After a long moment of awkward silence, Gibbs nodded his acknowledgment to his team members. He was confident that they'd both keep their mouths shut but, when this was all over, he was going to personally double-check all the audio and video evidence – just to be sure. From Agent Mallory's apparent confusion it appeared that the FBI agent didn't have a clue what was going on, for which Gibbs was grateful.

Gibbs had to admit that DiNozzo Sr. looked pretty bad, but he didn't feel one scrap of remorse for beating up the man. In fact, he was sorry he hadn't caused more permanent damage to the sorry son-of-a-bitch, and was harboring the hope that Senior was suffering from some undetected internal bleeding that would prove to be fatal. On the other hand, if Tony's father survived, then Gibbs just might get the chance to shoot him at some point later on, which would prove to be mighty satisfying. Gibbs almost laughed aloud at his violent thoughts – it looked like Tony wasn't the only one with fantasies of revenge.

DiNozzo Sr. sat on a hard chair at the table under the bright lights of the small kitchen, with one sleeve of his bloodstained dress shirt rolled up while Ducky took his blood pressure. DiNozzo sported a black eye and had bits of cotton wool stuffed up his bleeding nose; his mouth was a mess and he had a sore-looking and very swollen jaw. Gibbs remembered delivering a good set of punishing blows to Senior's rib cage as well, and he was sure that there were nice black-and-blue marks hidden under the man's shirt. He hoped every single bruise hurt like hell.

***–***end chapter 37***–***