I am so screwed tomorrow. I have a paper due on Friday, and I have yet to even think of a topic. I believe on Tuesday, I have a lab due, and an exam. But, unfortunately, I'm a total procrastinator, so I probably won't even start the paper until tomorrow. I know, I'm an idiot.

So, who else thinks that Michael Weatherly doesn't get enough credit for his acting abilities? I mean, when it comes to Tony, all anyone really wants to know about is TIVA. But I was watching NCIS tonight, and he's like a really great actor. I'm rambling. Sorry.

Chapter Twelve

Anger was palpable in the room. The lamp lay shattered on the ground, stuffing had been pulled from the couch, bookshelves were overturned. The place was destroyed. If anyone had seen this, it would look like someone ransacked the place. But that wasn't the case.

Everything was falling apart at the seams. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Someone was messing with the plan, and that wasn't permitted. People get hurt when they mess with the plan.

The planner put a hole through the wall. Things needed to be fixed, that much was certain. There was no question. The planner was going to prevail.

*~*

Tony would be lying if he said he wasn't exhausted. But he and Gibbs had checked at least a dozen cabins. There was nothing special about any of them. The only thing that really stuck out was the envelope full of cash at Luke Jones' suite, but Gibbs was right. People brought money on vacation.

After the long day they had, Tony was so hoping to have a night to just relax and be himself. But he couldn't even get that. They were at the bar again. Only this time, they had a list of the people that Tony needed to schmooze. So now it was just about finding them.

"So, what did you wanna be when you grew up?" Asked Samson Grecker, a balding middle aged muscle head who ran one of the most successful gym chains in the country. Tony wished he had his Sig so he could shoot the man.

"I wanted to be a fireman." The smile was plastered to Tony's face. His cheeks hurt. He had been smiling a lot during this trip, and he was kind of getting sick of it. He was also getting sick of having to flirt with every man who came his way. Gibbs didn't flirt, he just made Tony flirt. "What about you?"

Grecker literally hopped. He was like a giant, steroid abusing version of Abby. "Well, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a pastry chef." The way he talked was a complete contradiction to how he looked. Physically, he weighed about three hundred pounds in nothing but muscle, and his bicep was about as big as Tony's head. But when he talked he sounded… flaming. That was the only way to put it. The man was a flaming giant. "I just loved the idea of spending my life baking. I love baking. But then, by the time I was twelve, I thought I could be a jewel thief."

Tony chuckled. "What made you decide to start your own gym?" A part of him thought it might have something to do with gay bashers.

"When I was sixteen, I got a job at the local gym. And I just built up from there until, when the owner retired, he left the place to me. I just expanded the business." That was different.

"Well that's um…" he trailed off.

Grecker waved it away. "It's boring. It's ok, sugar, I already know that. Most people probably think, you know, because I'm gay, that I got my ass beat, so I started working out to protect myself. But honestly, I've always been a bit of a muscle head. I like to work out and I like feeling strong."

"Can't be easy dating, though. I mean, with your size."

He shrugged. "It's hard because when guys meet me, they automatically think that I'm a top."

"But you're not."

Grecker burst into hysterics at that one. "You couldn't tell?"

Tony smiled. "That's gotta be tough."

"Tell me about it! Most of the guys who hit on me these days are total power bottoms. And all the pitchers I find don't like that I can kick their asses."

Grecker was an interesting guy. As far as Tony could tell, he had no problems with his sexuality, and if anyone else cared, they wouldn't be dumb enough to say something. So what was he doing here?

After a while, Tony couldn't hold his curiosity back any longer, he had to ask. Grecker shrugged, but otherwise didn't say anything. Tony was about to ask again when the man finally spoke. "So, why are you talking to me?"

That threw the agent off guard. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

Grecker smiled. "Maybe, because that cute sexy honey over there," he pointed behind him. When Tony followed with his eyes, he saw Gibbs, "Clearly into you."

That sent Tony laughing. "Good one."

The other man rolled his eyes. "Word of advice, honey, even around here, what you two did last night was pretty far out there."

Tony blushed. He almost forgot that he and Gibbs had gotten a little frisky against the pool table last night. "That was really a one night thing." Unfortunately.

Grecker scoffed. "Are we looking at the same man, sugar?" When Tony arched his eyebrow, the other man continued. "That isn't a hit it and quit it look my friend. He wants you. All of you."

Tony smiled again. Grecker may have been completely unconventional and incredibly annoying, but he was an ok guy. Tony actually hated lying to him. A part of him wanted to ask for his number so they could stay in touch after the case was closed.

"So, I'll ask again, what are you doing over here?" Grecker made a shooing motion. "Go to him!"

Shaking his head, Tony grabbed his beer—nonalcoholic—and headed back to Gibbs' booth in the corner. The older man was scowling, but it was his usual scowl, nothing too bad about it.

Tony slid in across from him. "Get anything useful, Tony?" Gibbs asked the second he sat down.

The younger man shook his head. "I don't even get why Grecker's here. He seems completely comfortable with his sexuality."

"Did you ask?" Gibbs sounded annoyed when he asked that.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, I did. But he avoided the question."

"And you didn't push?"

"I couldn't risk blowing my cover, Nick." He was getting agitated. Gibbs had that effect on him. Five minutes ago, he was actually in a good mood, and then Gibbs comes along and shatters that. Tony was starting to wonder what Grecker could have possibly seen that made him think that Gibbs thought of him as anything more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

Tony took another drink of his beer, but all that met his lips were foam. The glass was otherwise empty. Damn it. He sighed heavily. "I'm gonna get a refill, you want one?"

Gibbs nodded, he was busy staring daggers into his own empty glass, as if his glare was so powerful it could fill the glass all on its own. Tony rolled his eyes and crawled out of the booth again. He made his way to the bar and sat down on the first available seat he found.

The bartender took his order and went to work preparing them. Tony didn't bother watching what he was pouring, he was too busy focusing on the men surrounding him. Any one of them was a killer, and he had no idea how to figure out who.

Somebody saddled up next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw brown hair. "That was some display yesterday." That caused Tony to jerk his head to the side. The way Griffin spoke could actually be considered, flirtatious. Griffin was flirting with him?

Wilbur Griffin was still Tony's number one suspect. But up until now, the man had been completely oblivious to his advances. Maybe tonight he'd get lucky.

He twirled around so he was facing the man head on, his smile was bright and inviting. "It turn you on?"

"I think I'd have to be an idiot not to be turned on by it." Tony rested his temple on his fist. Another man came and joined the fray.

"So, are, uh, the two of you, serious?" The guy who asked was an attractive black man with finely cut hair and a beard. He wore a white shirt that set off the deep color of his skin.

Tony scoffed at the question. "Nah, it was a one time deal." The man, seemingly happy with the answer, scooted closer to Tony and casually rested his palm right above Tony's knee. Tony's smile widened. "I'm Tony Spano."

He saw the man's smile falter for just a split second. Tony's grin widened. Found another one. But then the man perked up again as his hand slowly slid up Tony's thigh. He leaned down with a wide grin on his face. "What do you say we get outta here—"

If he wanted to say anything else, he never got the chance. Tony didn't notice anyone was behind the man until he was thrown to the ground. Gibbs stared down at him with his usual glare. His fists were by his sides, and they were shaking.

The black man jumped to his feet, fully intending to attack Gibbs, but as soon as he threw a punch, Gibbs grabbed his arm and delivered one of his own directly into the man's face, sending him to the ground again.

Tony grabbed the collar to Gibbs' jacket and pulled him towards the door. Anger coursed through his entire body. He was used to Gibbs' temper and he was used to the man doing reckless—sometimes stupid--things but this was just too much. Whatever the hell his problem was, Tony was going to find out.

In a million years, he never thought he would ever toss his boss anywhere. That's exactly what he did. As soon as he pushed the door to the bar open, he tossed Gibbs outside. The older man whirled on him, a vein pulsed in his temple and his eyes looked like they were on fire.

"What the hell was that?" Tony asked before Gibbs could say anything.

"I could ask you the same question." Gibbs kept his voice low. Either because he didn't want to attract attention, or because he was too mad to shout, Tony couldn't be sure.

They stood practically nose to nose. Gibbs looked up at him with that look that Tony hated. The younger man sighed heavily. "I was doing my job."

"Oh really? Your job now includes hooking up with random guys on an undercover mission?"

"No, my job is to figure out who the fuck wants Keller and Spano dead, and that guy you decked," he pointed back inside of the bar, "recognized my name. I was doing exactly what you told me to do the first damn day that we were here!"

This time, Gibbs did shout. "That was before!"

"Before what?" Tony said just as loudly, only to prove that he could shout too. "Before I fucked you or before you found out I liked it?"

Gibbs didn't say anything. Tony could still see the anger in his eyes, but there was also a hint of regret. He hadn't intended on saying that to Tony. He reacted out of jealousy, and he was ashamed of it.

For some reason, that just made him even angrier. With a bitter chuckle, he turned around towards the door to the bar again. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Gibbs called out after him.

Tony wheeled around and glared daggers at him. "Back inside. To do my damn job." He didn't wait for another comment. He pulled the door open and let his slam shut behind him. Gibbs was left standing in the empty night.

The younger agent headed back to the bar. The black man had disappeared. When Tony looked around, he saw him being cajoled by Samson Grecker in a back booth. Grecker had his arms around the man's shoulders as he dabbed a napkin against his bloodied nose. Tony couldn't help but chuckle. The two looked like they would make the perfect couple.

He headed back for the bar. Griffin was still in the same spot as before. Tony saddled up next to him. "Sorry about that." Griffin barely spared him a glance. "And sorry about that guy, earlier," he waved in the man's general direction, "You should know, I was going to turn him down." Come on, talk!

"I don't give a damn what you do in your spare time, Spano." That caught Tony off guard. Griffin seriously sounded furious. Furious enough to kill, maybe? "Why don't we just get this over with already? I'm tired of beating around the bush."

Tony was confused as hell. He had absolutely no idea what the reverend was talking about. But he was undercover, and his alias would know exactly what Griffin meant. He had to play like he did too.

He put a business grin on his face and slapped his thighs in a "let's do this" gesture. Griffin glared at him. He took a sip of his drink—bourbon, if the smell was any indication—and slid something along the bar towards him.

"Don't worry, it's all there." He got up and left.

Tony was stunned speechless. That wasn't how he expected this conversation to go. He also didn't expect to be staring down at a thick envelope full of hundred dollar bills either. But that's exactly what he had. A simple, plain white envelope, full of bills.

"Just what the hell was I involved in?"

I'm sorry if Gibbs sounds OC in this chapter. But Tony's so delectible, how could he not be jealous? And just so you guys know, only about one or two more chapters until the next sex scene. So, let me know what you think, and I'll see you on Saturday!