Author's Notes: I have a long weekend, so I'm going to post this today and Chapter 3 tomorrow; that will get the story through the set up phase. Thanks to everyone who has put this on alert or favorite, as well as those who have reviewed. I know it's a departure (just remember, I also turned our boys into vampires, so maybe going this route wasn't that unexpected). I have tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible and the story is embedded within a case, so it does have a sense of realism.
I'm a glutton for feedback, so if you like it let me know! (If you have an issue with the genre, just keep it to yourself).
Again, WARNING: This story is BDSM and Slash. If you are offended by those topics, do not read.
Vance tossed his chewed apart toothpick in the trash. "That should be enough information for now. You can go with me to the press conference to field any specific questions that might come up."
Gibbs grunted. "Give me a break, Leon, you know I hate this stuff."
"Comes with the territory. We've got every cable network in the country working this story and I intend to handle it right, so straighten up your jacket and get ready for the spotlight." He pulled out another toothpick, the habit worse than a pack a day smoker. "So, how's your boy doing now that he's back?" Vance nonchalantly led the way to the door.
"He's fine." Gibbs kept his answer clipped and to the point. There was no way this was only an innocent question about Tony's welfare; the new Director didn't do innocent. Gibbs waited for the hammer to fall.
Vance stopped in the hallway. "I hear there have been several incidents of unprofessional behavior in your area of the bullpen recently. Something about Officer David covered in confetti and Agent McGee using a crowbar to open his desk."
"It's under control. I'm sure you've got bigger issues to worry about than a few harmless pranks." Gibbs had been concerned Vance was watching Tony; his fears were now confirmed. "You got somebody keeping tabs on my team?"
"I make it my personal mission to know what's happening to all of my agents. Frankly, Gibbs, I'm surprised you put up with it; a no-nonsense man like you doesn't suffer fools easily." The toothpick shifted up and down while the Director chewed the end.
Gibbs kept his face impassive. "That's why I don't have any fools on my team, Leon. I only work with the best, and that includes every single one of them. If you have something to say, why don't you put it out on the table."
The Director's nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. Eventually the corners of his mouth turned up. "No, Gibbs, I have nothing to say. Yet."
With that he started toward the elevator, Gibbs watching his retreating back. Vance was biding his time, waiting for Tony to screw up.
And once DiNozzo did, the Director wouldn't hesitate to send Tony away, this time for good.
NCISNCSICNIS
When Tony and Ziva eventually stepped off the elevator and back into the office, the sun had started to set casting a golden glow through the skylights. Tony dropped his backpack on the floor and flopped into his chair. "I don't now who's crazier; the patients staying in that place or the people working there."
"Problems?" McGee asked, removing his hands from his keyboard and stretching his fingers.
Ziva huffed. "Only that every person we talked to sent us to someone else, no one could find anything, and their filing system is archaic. We were there so long I thought they might keep Tony."
"Ha-ha, Miss Priss," Tony said tiredly, his late night definitely catching up with him. "At least we got the complete medical records for Ducky and statements that the petty officer is nutty as a loon from all his bunkmates." He glanced at Gibbs' empty desk. "Where's the boss?"
"He and the Director came back from the press conference about an hour ago and went straight into MTAC." McGee explained.
"He could be in there all night," Tony pointed out, yawning widely. "I vote we go home. He'll call if he needs anything before the morning."
"Good idea," Abby's husky voice interrupted. The Goth rushed into the room with Jimmy Palmer beside her. "But nobody's going home. We're all going to check out this really cool club Jimmy heard about. They're supposed to have an awesome floor show."
Tony groaned. "Not tonight, Abby, I'm exhausted."
"You, mister," she admonished, "are the reason we're going out. All you've done lately is work, get on Gibbs' nerves, harass Ziva and McGee, get on Gibbs' nerves some more, and go home. You need to relax and blow off some steam – trust me, I recognize the signs. We're going to have a good time and celebrate the fact you're back with us and off that stupid boat."
"Ship, Abs. It's a ship. Do I have to?" He was too tired to control the whiny tone in his voice. All he really wanted to do was go home, drink some beer, watch a movie, and fall asleep. Alone.
"Absolutely. I'm giving all of you an hour to go home and change into something appropriate for a hip and trendy club. McGee, take a picture of your outfit and send it to me for prior approval. We'll meet for dinner at Lombardi's then head to the club around 10:00. The show starts at 11:00. Questions?" No one dared pose a question with Abby in drill sergeant mode. "Good. Move out, men!"
They grabbed their things and piled onto the elevator. Tony glared at Palmer who smiled back innocently. Ziva and Abby babbled about clothes that would look good on McGee, who shoved his hands in his pockets. "Nothing outrageous, you two!" he said forcefully, which only made them giggle more.
Tony rubbed his forehead. Maybe he needed to get out with his friends for the night, to try and forget about Jenny, Gibbs, and his screwed up life. He promised himself to do as Abby said, and have a little fun. Hell, if a DiNozzo couldn't have a good time in a bar, the world really must be coming to an end.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs sat on the stool in his basement and drained another glass of bourbon. By the time he left MTAC his team had closed down for the evening, their reports neatly stacked on his desk. He'd made no progress on the boat tonight, his mind continually wandering to Tony, his agent's recent behavior, and Vance's veiled threat.
He had to do something before Tony was gone from NCIS, and him, possibly forever. It would be easy enough to start up the head slaps again; maybe that would be sufficient to get him settled. It wasn't like he disliked the idea of touching Tony throughout the day.
The problem was he liked the idea too much.
Of course he knew Tony was attractive; you'd have to be blind or dead not to notice. It had taken a long time to get used to those full lips, olive complexion, and brilliant green eyes; he'd somehow forced himself to develop an immunity to his senior field agent's appearance.
It hadn't always been easy; in the early days there were moments when Tony's smile would catch him off guard and he would be stunned by the sheer handsomeness of the man. Kate had been affected by it, too. He'd often observed her lose her train of thought during a scolding when Tony would pout, and she'd end up running fingers through her dark hair and giving up. Ziva, of course, had spent half her first year at NCIS staring at Tony like she'd never seen anything of his kind before; he suspected her physical attraction to DiNozzo prompted the bipolar way she treated her partner. She didn't want to be drawn to him, but some days she gave in and let herself get close, while other days she pushed him as far away as possible in order to prove that she could. McGee, straight as an arrow, harbored some jealously toward Tony's looks, yet worked hard to not let that overly influence their relationship. Sometimes McGee controlled it, other times not so much – in the end their friendship won the battle. He honestly admitted surprise that Tony and Abby had never hooked up. Ultimately, they were both subs at heart and he supposed at least Abby understood anything other than friendship would never work out.
And it wasn't like Tony only had a pretty face; his personality created its own web of attractiveness. Sometimes infuriating, more often than not captivating in its complexity. It took effort to see beneath the shiny surface Tony wanted everyone to know. Under the gilded exterior existed a honeycomb of traits, from heart-wrenching insecurity to self-sacrificing loyalty, to unyielding courage. A glimpse of the true Tony; it didn't happen often, but it could take your breath away.
It occurred to him that he hadn't treated Tony any better than Ziva did at times; pulling the younger man in close then shoving him away when the feelings got too intense and uncomfortable. Years of that kind of behavior, on top of the purgatory of being Agent Afloat, had left Tony adrift with no anchor to hold him in place. Tony had a hard time picking out what personality to wear on a good day; it made sense that his recent lack of stability had left him jumping from being a clown one minute to a capable federal agent the next. His partner needed grounding, focus, parameters.
DiNozzo needed Gibbs to get his head out of his own ass and do something about it.
Unfortunately, he didn't know if he could. He kind of felt like the Grinch in that old Christmas cartoon Kelly used to watch; his heart atrophied from years of neglect and disuse. It beat well enough to keep him alive, but not nearly enough to take an emotional risk the equivalent of leaping out of an airplane without a parachute. For Christ's sake, this was DiNozzo he was thinking about, not some damn redhead he could kick to the curb when things got tough. He was selfish enough to always want Tony in his life in some capacity, even if it was limited to the role of teammate and friend.
Gibbs had long ago accepted he was often interested in men; he'd known it even before Shannon entered his life. There had been on and off relationships over the years, never anything particularly serious, and usually centered around his need to be more dominant than he felt comfortable doing with women. Women were for long-term commitments, men were for other pursuits.
Not that he hadn't played with the women, too. Shannon had loved his toppy side, and she had been an exquisite submissive. None of the rest – either man or woman - could hold a candle to her, the way she had battled her own need to take control and in the end been willing to kneel before him in complete and utter devotion. He choked up at the memory, lost for a while in the overwhelming urge to either cry or slam his glass against the wall. He did neither and let the moment pass, as time had taught him to do.
Tony. What would DiNozzo look like on the floor in front of him, those generous lips slightly parted and waiting to be either kissed or fucked, the choice completely in his power?
Damn – what was wrong with him? How could he ever justify thinking about Tony this way? There was so much wrong with it; Rule Twelve, the fact Tony saw him as a father figure and not a potential lover, his inability to be with someone without fundamentally hurting the person. He had to get a grip and stop this – now.
He drank a slug of bourbon straight from the bottle and picked up a piece of sandpaper, determined to drive that image of DiNozzo's fuckable mouth completely out of his mind one way or another.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony leaned back against the bar and swirled his electric blue drink, letting the ice cubes clink against the sides of the glass. Abby waved at him from her spot next to Ziva; the Israeli danced sensuously with a tall, swarthy man with dark hair. Both women looked gorgeous – Ziva had selected a backless red leather halter top and sinfully provocative red lycra tights and spiked heels, while Abby had gone for her naughty schoolgirl outfit, pairing tall lace-up boots with a barely there miniskirt and a white button up shirt tied high to show off her flat stomach.
DiNozzo turned to his left and watched McGee and Palmer talking to a pair of pretty girls, one blonde and the other brunette. He chuckled at Probie's ensemble; he'd ended up wearing a tight black t-shirt with a mesh back, a pair of skin-tight jeans, and large black leather boots with the laces undone. At first McGee had been self-conscious, but a couple of drinks loosened him up and he seemed to be having a great time. Palmer swayed to the music, occasionally holding his drink in the air and dancing in circles while the brunette girl traced her fingers across his bare chest and firm abs. Tony still couldn't believe the ME's assistant had removed his shirt and was only wearing a pair of leather pants and a silver chain around his neck. There was a whole more to the shy young man than met the eye.
He hadn't made much of an effort on his own outfit. The comfortable jeans and green button-up would've probably been more appropriate for the office than a D/s bar, but Tony didn't care. He wasn't looking to hook up anyway. The only concession he'd made to the fact this was a club had been unbuttoning his shirt sinfully low and rolling up his sleeves. He did have a reputation to maintain after all.
"Is that drink any good?" the man next to him asked. "I've never had one before." Tony noticed the person at his elbow for the first time; he was middle-aged, tall, and muscle bound, most definitely a former jock and a Dom by the way he carried himself. The guy wasn't bad looking, but Tony had no intention of getting picked up.
"It's not bad," he answered coolly, trying to convey his lack of interest with the uninviting tone.
The stranger smiled and held out his hand. "Steve Carter. I work security at the Smithsonian."
Tony groaned inwardly. He supposed he had to be polite, so he pasted on a smile and shook hands. "Anthony DiNozzo."
"And what is your line of work, Anthony DiNozzo?" the man questioned, sipping his drink and leaning in closer.
God, sometimes Tony hated bar small talk. "I'm a federal agent with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service."
The man's eyes grew wide. "Wow, really? That sounds like such a fascinating job. Maybe we could swap stories, although I bet yours are a lot more exciting than mine."
Tony glanced down at his drink. "Listen, I don't want to be rude, but I'm here with some friends and I'm not interested in anything other than hanging out with them tonight. Sorry."
The guy smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it, I understand. Maybe some other time." He made his way back into the crowd, disappearing among the throng of people.
A few minutes later Abby brushed up behind him, breathing hard in his ear. "Come on, Tony, dance with us. You know you've got better moves than all these schmucks."
"Not tonight Abby. I'm not in the mood." He drained the remainder of his blue liquid in one gulp.
She opened her mouth to chastise him when a waiter interrupted them. He held a glass out to Tony. "This drink is for you from the gentleman at the table over there."
Tony and Abby both turned to see an older Asian man sitting at a table across the room; a wiry submissive boy barely out of his teens and dressed in a skimpy leather thong sat docilely at his feet. The man lifted his glass toward Tony and winked. DiNozzo gave a small smile in return and turned away. "That's just creepy," he stated warily.
The waiter laughed. "It happens all the time. He gave me a hundred bucks to bring this to you. Said you were the hottest man he'd seen in a long time."
Tony grinned uncomfortably and took the drink, sitting it on the bar with no intention to taste it. He rolled his eyes at Abby dramatically. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment."
Before Abby could reply, the music lowered and the lights dimmed. "The show's about to start!" Abby gushed, wrapping her hands around his arms. "Watch it with us, please!"
"I'll catch it from here, Abs. You go get a good spot with Ziva," he said firmly. "Go on, scoot."
She pouted before giving in to him. "You and I are going to have a long talk this weekend – promise me." His best friend held out her pinky to him.
He hooked his pinky around hers and beamed back a genuine smile. "Promise."
Abby kissed his cheek and bounced through the crowd, jostling her way until he saw her take up position beside Ziva. A few feet away Palmer and McGee had also found a place close to the stage area. The music changed, the bass thumping in a slow rhythm when two men strolled into the center of the roped off platform. Tony was tall enough to see most of the presentation despite the swarming masses of people bumping and swaying in front of him. One of the men wore leather chaps and a mask covering the upper half of his face, allowing only his eyes to show. The other man was completely naked. When the masked man sat down in a chair, he dipped out of Tony's field of vision requiring DiNozzo to push forward a little; moving around to get another glimpse he eventually managed to see the naked man draped over his partner's knees. He heard a sharp smack followed by a small moan.
He supposed Abby never specified exactly what kind of show they'd be watching. Curiosity got the better of him and he found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the scene playing out in front of the captivated audience. The Dom spanked the sub relentlessly, yet there was something strangely erotic about the exchange. The sub didn't seem to mind; as a matter of fact he appeared to be getting very turned on as evidenced by his straining cock that was trapped between the Dom's legs. The younger man arched higher, as if trying to force even more contact with the hand that had turned his ass from pale cream to flaming red.
Tony swallowed nervously and wondered what it felt like to give up control that way. He couldn't fathom the kind of trust it would require, and he doubted he could ever trust anyone that much. Still, for a split second he imagined himself lying against someone's knees, a calloused hand delivering whatever the Dom thought he needed. The image sent a shiver up his spine.
A person nudged him from behind and he turned quickly to find a man several inches taller than him and sporting about fifty more pounds of muscle smiling down on him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Do you like what you see?"
"It's different," Tony responded noncommittally. There were way too many desperate wanna-be Doms in this place, and it irritated him that they all seemed to identify him as a sub. The crowd roared with appreciation and applauded; Tony turned around to try and find out what he had missed. He experienced a twinge of disappointment when he saw the two men standing together, the Dom holding his sub tightly, caressing the glowing butt with firm yet gentle strokes while he kissed along the younger man's neck in a beautifully intimate gesture.
A hand on his own ass made him nearly jump out of his skin. "What the hell?" he gasped, spinning around again.
Now the man actively pressed up against him. "I can tell you want that; I can give it to you. Come with me, and I'll teach you things you've only dreamed about." The man's eyes were dark and dangerous, his voice low and husky.
"Get your hands off me," Tony growled, forcefully knocking away the hand that had found its way onto his hip. "I don't even know you."
Instead of backing off, the burly man gripped Tony by the arm. "Maybe I don't plan on giving you a choice." He pulled Tony forward, throwing him off-balance as he dragged him in the direction of the door. The guy was unnaturally strong and Tony found it difficult to break free. The stranger surged forward like a Dom doing nothing more than taking charge of an unruly sub, no one giving them a second glance.
To hell with this, Tony decided, adrenaline and anger coursing through him. He was a fucking federal agent, and this piece of shit had picked the wrong guy to try and dominate without permission. Besides, he'd watched Road House with Patrick Swayze enough times to know how to handle this situation. The size differential didn't worry him too much.
With his shoulder lowered, he stopped trying to pull away and instead rushed forward, ramming into the man with a grunt, the two of them flying into the crowd taking several patrons down with them. When Tony rose up, a beefy fist caught him in the jaw, and in between the stars exploding behind his eyeballs, he saw several other punches being thrown by Doms who had inadvertently been bumped by his bone-crunching tackle. Within seconds, he'd lost sight of his assailant as the melee bloomed into an all out bar-fight like a wave crossing the ocean.
Someone wrapped an arm around his neck and Tony flipped the man over his back, the goon landing with a thump on the floor. Before fending off another attacker, Tony fleetingly considered who would take the first opportunity to kill him when this was all over – Abby because he'd ruined her night out or Gibbs because he'd finally managed to ruin the reputation of NCIS.
Either way, he was a dead man.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs lurched from the floor, banging his head on the ribs of the boat where he'd fallen asleep in the sawdust. He cursed and rubbed the small knot on his scalp with one hand, trying to find the annoyingly loud phone with the other. Scrabbling on the counter, he located the small piece of plastic and flipped it open. Calls this time of night were never good – they either had a case or someone was in trouble.
"Yeah," he barked.
"Not even a hello? You really need to work on your manners."
Gibbs pushed up off the floor, ignoring the creak in his knee. "What do you want, Tobias?"
"Something went down at "The Cage" tonight; LEO's got called in. I thought you might want to go with me to check it out."
"Now why would I do that?" The NCIS agent stroked his haggard face and kicked the empty bottle of bourbon sending it spinning across the floor. A few hours had passed since he finished it off, but he didn't think it had been long enough for him to drive. "You know I don't get involved with the scene anymore."
Fornell grunted through the phone. "This isn't a social call and I'm already on my way to your place. You're definitely going to want to be around for this – I think at least one of the participants belongs to you."
"What?" Gibbs asked, pausing as he reached the first floor of his house.
"The club is under surveillance because of a case we're working; I heard the call go out and DiNutso's name got mentioned when they ran his i.d.," Fornell explained smoothly with just the smallest hint of goading. "I figured if your boy's in trouble you'd want to be there."
"Fuck." Gibbs grabbed his jacket and shoved a cap on his head. Would it be too much to ask that Tony go twenty-four hours without causing some kind of mayhem? In all the years they'd worked together, Tony had seldom been this much of a problem.
"Well put, Jethro. Now get your ass in the car."
When Gibbs stepped outside, Fornell was already parked in the driveway. As usual, he didn't bother to lock the door behind him.