CHAPTER 9 - BBQ and Big Choices

"Well, nobody seems to have anything better to do this afternoon, so it looks like we're having a party," Tony declared with a bright smile as soon as Jethro came in the door carrying groceries.

Jethro gave him a smile and a quick kiss, and handed him the bags. "Got plenty of food. Someone bringing beer?"

"All set. Jimmy's making a dessert, the others are doing sides…" He'd called McGee, Bishop, Palmer, Abby and Ducky, and told them to bring their significant others. He would have included Dale Carney but he had already mentioned he was busy. Everyone jumped at the chance of coming to Gibbs' party. "Yeah, I know, when's the last time Gibbs had a backyard barbecue?" Tony had said to more than one of his friends when they'd expressed their surprise. The answer was never, at least not in the time Tony had been at NCIS.

Ducky said he'll love to attend. "I do remember a sit-down dinner at Jethro's home, some years ago. In fact, it was just prior to you joining us, Anthony. As I recall, Jethro and Stephanie had words, and the lady had a breakdown in the living room after cocktails, and by dessert she had announced she wanted a divorce." He tutted and shook his head. "She threw the lemon mousse in Jethro's face and rushed out. I don't believe I ever saw her again."

The guests arrived late that afternoon with food in hand and smiles upon their faces. Tony made sure there was music (light jazz), and he'd strung up some small lights and paper lanterns (that Jethro had pulled out of the attic) between the trees. Abby brought home-brewed beer she had made that wasn't too bad, and Jimmy and Breena Palmer provided a chocolate layer cake, because, Jimmy said, they had an intuition that this was a special occasion. The casserole dish Delilah carried in her lap as she wheeled into the back yard smelled delicious. Ellie brought veggies and dip, potato salad, and enough beer to please a football team.

Gibbs cooked steak and ribs for the meat-eaters, and veggie kebobs for those who did not. They all sat around a long picnic table that Gibbs had built (of course he had), and enjoyed eating, drinking and talking about non-work-related subjects as the afternoon turned into evening.

Tony didn't know what to expect from his friends and colleagues when he told them about the position he'd accepted, so it was with some trepidation that, after the first course was over, he stood up and said he had an announcement. He told them he'd been chosen to head the development of the Special Mission Undercover Team, briefly describing the project, and everyone congratulated him with an enthusiasm he hadn't envisioned.

Things got a bit emotional because Abby was very concerned that he might not want to return, but Gibbs assured them if Tony didn't return in six weeks, as scheduled, "I will personally hunt him down and bring him back." Tony pretended to be alarmed when Gibbs glowered at him in warning, but when nobody was looking Tony gave him a wink and a quick smile.

The brightest moment, in Tony's eyes, occurred a good five minutes after his announcement, when all of a sudden McGee spat out his beer, started coughing and laughing at the same time, having only just realized that Tony's unit's name was SMUT. "The whole thing… you're pulling our leg!"

Gibbs quickly dispelled any notion this was a joke by standing and raising a glass to congratulate Tony. "I'm proud of you, DiNozzo," he said, and everyone toasted and nodded in agreement. But then Gibbs surprised everyone, including Tony, by saying, "Seeing as we're all together, I want to apologize to Tony for the way I've been treating him the past few weeks. I was acting like an ass, ignoring him and bypassing him as if he meant nothing to me, when, in fact, it's the opposite. I hated being laid up, and not being able to get to the head by myself, and all that crap. And I hated I couldn't be there to kill Budd myself. I felt pretty useless, and every time someone brought me food or cleaned up my house, or told me it would take time to heal, my mood just got worse." Ducky started to interject something, but Gibbs motioned for him to wait. He placed a hand on Tony's shoulder and looked down at him where he was seated. "You've always been there for me, Tony, and I've treated you badly. I'm sorry. I am very sorry."

Tony, blinking hard to keep tears at bay because Gibbs was opening up and admitting all this, and apologizing, in front of everyone, stood up, and Gibbs hugged him tight and all-too briefly. They grinned at each other until Gibbs abruptly asked, "Who wants a cold one?" and headed inside for more beer.

"Wow!" said Bishop. "That was… unusual – but great. Really great, and you deserved that apology, Tony."

Everyone started talking about how much Gibbs had changed, how he'd been a cold bastard, "but it looks like he's thawing out," said McGee.

It was Jimmy who said, "At least he isn't wearing one of those black suits today. He looks like an undertaker when he wears them."

Ducky looked around the table and asked, "What I would like to know is, who encouraged Jethro to buy those depressing suits in the first place, and to grow his hair long? So unlike him."

Breena quickly said, "It wasn't Jimmy. If he'd dressed Gibbs it would have been in Argyle sweaters and overpriced shoes." She looked thoughtfully at Tony, who quickly denied having anything to do with Gibbs' recent choice of work clothes.

"No way! At least he's wearing his Sears best today," Tony pointed out. What he didn't say was that he had picked out the pale blue shirt and fitted jeans for his lover to wear to the barbecue. The longer hair – he wasn't sure he liked it, but he'd leave the choice whether or not to cut it up to Jethro. He, in turn, sent an inquisitive glance at Bishop, sitting beside Delilah at the end of the table.

Bishop held up her hands. "Don't look at me! I have enough trouble choosing my own work clothes. If I had my way, I'd be in PJs all day. Abby? You're into black. Did you convince the boss to dress like a blackbird?"

"Not me! He's a silver fox and if I dressed him in black, it would be tight black jeans and a black shirt, not those loose suits he's been wearing." She looked around the table and shrugged. "Maybe it was Dr. Taft? Gibbs sort of listens to him."

Tim shook his head. "Taft is no stylist. He'd have put Gibbs in scrubs. We talked about this before, and decided it can't be Fornell, so who's left?"

Tony noticed that Delilah had been keeping mighty quiet throughout this conversation. Suddenly suspicious, he pointed his finger at her and cried out in a quavering, high-pitched voice, "It's her, she's the witch!"

To everyone's surprise, Delilah slammed her hand on the table and just about shouted, "Oh, for God's sake, yes, it was me!"

"Delilah!" Tim chastised. "You never told me!"

She didn't back down. "You people have been making fun of Agent Gibbs' clothes for years, and it was obvious he'd lost a ton of weight after getting shot, so I brought him a few choices, and that's what he liked. He chose his own clothes."

Bishop asked, "But what about his hair?"

Gibbs appeared at that time, and placed a metal tub containing assorted imported brews on ice in the middle of the picnic table. He ignored the sudden halt to the conversation, took a beer for himself, popped the top and took a long swig. They all watched him in silence. Gibbs asked, "I miss anything?"

"No, Boss," several of the team members said at the same time. Gibbs snorted and moved over to his Genesis four-burner gas grill with its flash tube ignition, warming rack and flame-stabilizing grids (Tony had read the 40-page guidebook it had come with one day when he was waiting for Gibbs to come home), and started to close it down.

With a warning glance at the people gathered around the table, Delilah hissed, "And you've never changed your hairstyle, any of you?" She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I don't know about you, but right now I'm ready for a nice big piece of chocolate cake."

Trying hard not to laugh, Tony raised his beer. "To good friends," he toasted and everyone joined in.

It was when they were cleaning off the picnic table that Tony found himself alone with Abby and McGee. The others had gone inside and were in the kitchen, out of earshot.

It was Abby who got straight to the point. "Who is Gibbs seeing, Tony?"

"What?"

"Gibbs. Who is he seeing?" Abby placed her hands on her hips. "All of a sudden he isn't wearing those awful suits – sorry, Tim, but Delilah's choice stunk – and he's back to his polos and Sears pants. There has to be someone influencing him."

Tim let Abby's insult about Delilah's taste pass by without a fight. "Tony, tell her Gibbs doesn't have a girlfriend."

For a moment, Tony stared at Tim, his heart pounding in alarm that somehow he had discovered that he was sleeping with Jethro. Tony swallowed and slowly said, "As I'm not in charge of Gibbs' love life, I'd hardly know. However…" He raised a finger. "We all know the man has been dealing with some serious challenges. He narrowly escaped death, and the surgery on his knee, and his recovery has been difficult. So if he buys a couple of new suits we don't like, that's his business."

Tim turned to Abby and said, "See? Now, will you leave it alone?" To Tony he explained, "She's been coming up with theories about everyone Gibbs might be dating, but there's no evidence of it, and after everything he's been through, I'm sure he goes straight to bed as soon as he gets home."

Tony choked a bit, recovered, and said, "I have to agree with McRealist here. Sorry, Abs."

But Abby wasn't buying it. "I've seen him smiling. He even smiled at you, Tony! And that was the nicest apology ever, and we all know he never apologizes. I guess I shouldn't be griping about Gibbs being happy, because he's been walking around with a cloud hovering over him ever since he came back, and I don't like to see him sad."

"He hasn't smiled at you yet?" Tony asked, wondering if that was what was really bugging her.

Abby waved the question away. "It's not that. Something's different, just in the past few days. He's got this… aura about him."

"C'mon, Abby," Tim said dismissively.

"It's true! I've seen it! Tony, help me out. You've slept with everyone in the Yard. Can you think of anyone Gibbs might be dating, maybe some poor lady you dumped?"

"Abby! I don't dump anyone… except I did break up with Zoe," Tony admitted. Both Abby and Tim made sounds of disappointment. "Everyone I go out with knows it's short term."

"Just sex, you mean," Abby commented raising one eyebrow. "It was way more than that with Zoe, Tony."

Tony shrugged. "It didn't work out. Besides, as if Gibbs would be interested in anyone I dated. Completely different set of preferences." He wasn't going to reveal just how badly his breakup with Zoe had gone, or about her expectation of having children with him. Right now he had to steer the conversation away from the idea that Gibbs had a lover. Or a girlfriend. "Gibbs isn't like that. He's a long-term kinda guy."

Tim scoffed, "Yeah, and you really think Gibbs would be interested in the baggy bunnies, or any of the baristas, or Metro cops, or ZNN reporters Tony has had 'just sex' with?"

Tony caught himself standing there like a fish gasping for water. "Metro cops? Really, McGee?"

His face coloring, Tim quickly covered his mouth with both hands. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Of course, Abby picked up on Tim's slip-up right away. With a grin, she said gleefully to Tony, "I knew you were all hot for Detective McCadden, but I wasn't sure you actually took that leap."

"You told me you didn't sleep with McCadden," McGee accused.

Being snarky, Tony retorted, "Just like you didn't sleep with Mrs. Fornell?"

"She wasn't married to Fornell then! And it was before she remarried and became Mrs. Sterling."

Abby's eyes darted from Tim to Tony and back again, apparently fascinated by the train wreck occurring right in front of her.

"You know what Fornell and Gibbs would do to you if they ever found out you'd slept with their ex?" Tony asked, being mean.

"What would they do?" asked Abby, all wide-eyed.

"All I know is there wouldn't be much left of Timmy here after they were done with him," Tony said.

Tim prodded Tony's chest with a finger. "Like you didn't think it was worth taking the risk, Tony? Yeah, she told me how she got her lovers down on their knees, begging for it, and how you were so obedient, and took it so well…"

"Diane would never tattle on anyone! It sounds like you're describing yourself, McBeggingBoy."

"Yeah, well, she told me about one guy who loved to be tied up so she could do all those things to him, and I know she was talking about you, Tony!"

"What things? You took what so well?" Abby asked frantically.

Tony gave Tim a slight push and leaned into his space. "She make you cry, Timmy? When she paddled your balls?"

"No? No! Besides, we both know how much you liked it when I spanked yours, Tony!"

"Tim!" Tony said, alarmed.

All of a sudden Tim went pale and stepped back.

Tony tried to lick his lips but his mouth had gone dry.

Abby stood stock-still for all of five seconds before squealing and jumping up and down, and grabbing both Tony and Tim, and hugging them and kissing their cheeks while crying, "I can't believe you two didn't tell me! This is so great, so right and… Oh! Does Delilah know? What were you thinking?" She punched Tony's arm.

"Ow! Abby! What was that for?"

"For corrupting our Timmy here, enticing him into your sex games, and–"

Tony snorted. "Hardly corrupted him. He was ready for it, believe me. All it took was a couple of hugs and some sucking on his earlobe, and he was all over me like I'd been rolling in Nutter Butters."

"Tony! Cut it out!" Tim shouted.

"Why? You can pretend you didn't enjoy yourself, if that suits you, but I don't regret a minute of it. Okay, so you were fresh-off-the-boat innocent, but you have to admit it was fun while it lasted. Remember sneaking into closets at work for blowjobs, and fucking 'til we dropped every night? And what about playing those video games, huh? Remember? Tell Abby what the winner got as a prize. Go on…"

Tim shuffled his feet but when Abby crossed her arms and glared at him, he gave in. "Fine, the winner chose who'd be on top, and… which toy they wanted to use, and who'd get spanked… that kind of thing. Hey, it wasn't my fault Tony sucked at Rocket Boy and BattlePlanet XX and kept losing!"

Abby shook her head. "Really? I knew you were naive, Tim, but if you think Tony can't beat you at those games, you're deluding yourself." She turned to Tony with a puzzled expression. "Wait a minute, this fling you two had… it took place when, exactly?"

McGee's eyes widened. "You mean you wanted…?"

Tony shifted his weight and scratched the back of his head. "We got together… the first day McProbie came to work at NCIS?"

Abby slowly turned on McGee. "You two were playing games at the same time you were sleeping in my coffin?" she asked with a dangerous glint in her eye.

Tony stepped in. "No, we quit after a few days – a week at the most – right, Tim? McNervous here was getting antsy because Gibbs was giving us the side-eye. He was afraid he'd be sent back to Norfolk, so we… broke up," Tony finished with a grin. "Admit it, we had a good time. And then he got brave and asked you about your tattoos, Abs."

Tim sighed heavily. "Please promise me this won't go any further than the three of us. Please, Abby?"

She agreed, and because Tim didn't quite trust her he made them all link pinkies and swear not to say a word. Tony felt foolish, because of the pinkie promise thing, but he figured if it meant they'd remain in the closet, he would deal with it. Abby swore never to mention any of this. Tim sighed in relief and they did one big hug, and then gathered the rest of the plates and trash and headed inside.

They were approaching the patio door when Abby put her hand on Tony's arm and stopped him. "I just know Gibbs is having sex with someone, and I'm going to find out who it is. You will tell me if you hear anything, won't you, Tony?"

"Sure. Scout's honor." Tony was glad he was leaving the next day for New York State, and hoped that by the time he was back, shortly before Thanksgiving, this crazy idea of Abby's would have blown over.

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That night, Jethro took Tony up to bed earlier than usual. They made love so tenderly Tony felt his heart swell with an emotion he wasn't prepared to identify, although it might have been fear. Or maybe anxiety. Or not. He was getting in too deep. It was too comfortable. But he was feeling good about himself, and about them together, and that was something he couldn't remember ever feeling before.

Afterwards, when Tony pushed Jethro's long hair back off his forehead, Jethro said, "I'll get it cut in the morning."

"I sort of like it."

"It isn't me. Did McGee really sleep in Abby's coffin?"

"You heard that?" Tony was a little alarmed because, if so, it was likely he'd heard the entire conversation between him and Abby and McGee. Oh shit, that meant Jethro knew he'd slept with his ex-wife, as did McGee. Tony rolled off Jethro and extricated himself from his arms. "Did you hear everything?"

"I sure got an earful." Jethro chuckled. "So, Diane did her ball-busting on you two willing victims, huh?"

At least he was laughing. "What is it with the ball torture?" Tony asked, wincing at the memory. "I couldn't make out if she was taking her own issues out on me, or if she got off on it because she loved being dominant. Sure, there was pleasure as well as pain… but… she didn't ever do that to you, did she?"

Jethro gave a hearty laugh. "No, but I'll wager Fornell got the wrong end of her little whip thing, the one that looks like a little fly swatter, a lot."

"Oh please, don't! I cannot un-see that." Tony slapped his palms over his eyes. "Can we change the subject?"

"Sure. Did Diane show you a good time?"

Lowering his hands, Tony saw Jethro had a dangerous glint in his eye. "Are you mad I had sex with your ex?"

Jethro thought for a moment and shook his head. "Nah, it wasn't my business, not then. But it is now. If she ever touches you again, I'm going to be very unhappy, because that woman has a mean streak, and I'll bet she marked you up so bad you could hardly move the next day. I don't like anyone hurting you, Tony."

Tony nodded, embarrassed.

"Except me, and if I have to bring out a flogger to teach you a lesson, you can be damned sure it isn't some puny thing that's only good for slapping your balls."

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me," Jethro said in a husky voice.

"You're making me all hot and bothered, Jethro," Tony said with a coy smile.

"And there won't be any sex. Not with anyone but me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Loud and clear… only… now my dick's fucking hard," Tony groaned.

Jethro released a great sigh. "I suppose you want me to do something about it? All right, fine, if I have to." He put on a show of reluctance until Tony straddled him and started rubbing his erect cock alongside Jethro's. "No peace," Jethro grumbled. "What'm I gonna do with you?"

"Uh, hold me down and fuck me?"

Jethro accepted the invitation, and held Tony down and fucked him hard enough to make him scream. Their second go-round was slower, more about exploration, seeing what each other liked, their sensitive spots. After they'd both climaxed and collapsed in a messy heap, Tony was in heaven because Jethro snuggled up behind him and held him close until they fell asleep.

All too soon it was Monday morning. Tony came down for breakfast and found Jethro reading the paper and sipping on a large black coffee. He took a deep breath and announced, "I'm going to tell Teague I accept her offer."

Jethro nodded and went back to reading the paper. He turned a page and perused the articles, eventually looking up to find out why Tony was still standing there. "Got something on your mind?"

"Um, yeah. I have to go pack some things, back at my place, but I wanted to thank you for… for everything."

"Uh-huh." Jethro watched Tony but said nothing more.

"I want to tell you the joke about the owls I didn't get to finish… um… So, there are these two owls sitting on a branch, the moon hanging over them, and one of them asks, "What would you do it you were a millionaire?" And the other one replies, 'I'd have my mice delivered by helicopter.'"

Jethro's eyes narrowed, and his lip quirked a little.

"See, the thing is, if someone offered me a million dollars right now, there's nothing in the world I can think of that I'd want to buy. Right now I'm…" Tony paused. "I've been trying to find the right word to describe how I feel, and last night it came to me. When I'm with you, I'm happy and eager and probably more than a little bit horny… but more than that, I'm content." He cleared his throat and said, "Just wanted to say that. I'll come by the office before I leave for New York though." Tony could see that Jethro wasn't going to respond, so he nodded good-bye and headed for the front door, swallowing his disappointment. He'd hope for a hug and a good-bye kiss.

Tony was just opening the front door – which took longer than usual to do because, for some reason, Jethro had recently started locking it, and the lock was new and stiff – when Jethro came up behind him, wrapped his arms around his middle, and kissed his neck.

"I love you, Tony," Jethro murmured into his ear.

Tony held Jethro's hands tight to his stomach. He nodded.

"I'm gonna miss you."

Tony nodded once more.

"Turn around."

"I can't," he whispered.

"Why not?"

Tony shrugged and sniffed. "I don't want you to see me cry."

"Aw, Tony. We'll talk on the phone. You can tell me all about the great job you're doing. But I'll still miss this, holding you," Jethro said softly. He kissed the side of Tony's neck.

"Jethro… If you want, you can leave the poster of me up in your basement," Tony offered.

"Thanks. I intended to."

Tony turned around to give Jethro one last kiss. It was brief and painful, and felt as though someone was squeezing his heart.

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