Author's Notes: Thanks so much for your positive support! As a first time slash writer who decided to go with a BDSM theme, I admit to a bad case of nerves. I wasn't even sure I should post on this site; but so far you guys have been great and I really appreciate it.

These past two chapters have been kind of short for me, but I couldn't find good places to end them, which is why I've posted it all so quickly. There's a pretty big plot shift next chapter, and then it's fairly intense from there to the end.

If you continue to enjoy the story, I look forward to hearing from you! Postive feedback helps with the nerves!

WARNING: SLASH and BDSM; we haven't gotten too deep into these topics so far, but I promise, by Chapter 5 you might be offended if you do not approve of these themes. If you are concerned, please do not read this story.

Red and blue lights created a strobe effect on the side of the building; Tony repositioned himself on the hard leather seat of the cruiser. Finding a comfortable position proved difficult with his hands cuffed behind his back. He allowed the events taking place outside the window of the locked door to distract him from his bruised body and worried mind. He had no doubt that once Gibbs got involved his life expectancy would decrease significantly.

Ziva, long curls flying in a disheveled maze above her head, gestured wildly at the car where he had been stowed, her lips moving at a clip too fast to read from this distance. McGee, arms folded across his ripped shirt and sporting a purple jaw, nodded in agreement with whatever the Israeli said. Abby fiercely pointed her finger at the officer's chest and Palmer, broken glasses barely perched on his nose, kept stealing glances at Tony from the corner of his eye.

Never let it be said that when things got tough the team didn't stand up for one another; they had each jumped into the brawl without any questions, coming to his defense before he even had a chance to explain what set off the chain of disastrous events. Granted, he'd received looks from each of them that promised there would be thorough interrogations to come, but that was to be expected when he was at the center of a situation like this one. The inside of the club had been smashed to pieces and it appeared the blame was getting placed entirely on his shoulders.

The LEO's refused to listen when he did his best to tell them about trying to get away from the overly aggressive Dom and that his safety had been threatened. Everyone was far more interested in finding a scapegoat for the destruction than discovering the truth. Seconds after he'd been identified as the instigator he found himself slammed down on the hood of the car with silver bracelets locked on his wrists.

Only one thing could make this horrible night any worse. Abby's luminous eyes grew wider indicating when the worst finally arrived. One by one the agents stopped speaking; the LEO took on a straight-backed posture as if preparing to wade into battle.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs, dressed in an NCIS windbreaker, ballcap, and faded jeans, shoved into the knot of people, his icy eyes casting disapprovingly over the attire of his team, stopping at the shirtless Jimmy Palmer who blushed and dropped his head in shame. Abby started talking again, her finger now pointing at the police car – Tony slunk down in an effort to possibly disappear. Gibbs turned his head and locked gazes with his senior field agent; DiNozzo gave him a repentant grin and a shrug. His campaign to improve Gibbs' opinion of him had ended in a spectacularly epic failure.

Fornell walked up to the group. What's he doing here? Tony wondered. The LEO must have decided it was time to take the circumstances in hand, since now he started talking. The conversation went on for several minutes, until Gibbs moved within inches of the officer's face wearing the expression of extreme irritation that could intimidate the most seasoned individual. Tony watched the cop as he started to break, shifting from foot to foot, sweating, and then finally nodding his agreement before heading toward the cruiser. Gibbs followed behind, his face set in a mask of grim displeasure.

Tony had only seconds to prepare himself before he was pulled out of the car and the handcuffs removed. He rubbed his wrists in an attempt to restore circulation. "Thanks. I can't say it's been fun."

The officer grunted. "Thank him." He jerked his head at Gibbs. "Next time, keep your subordinates on a tighter leash, Gunny," he admonished the lead agent. Gibbs didn't reply, waiting for the man to leave.

"How'd you find out about this so fast? Did Abby call you?" Tony asked once they were alone.

"You don't get to ask questions, DiNozzo, you get to answer them, starting with what the hell got you into this mess."

Tony frowned, unsure if he could prevent the ass ripping Gibbs had in store. "It wasn't my fault, I swear." Fornell silently joined them, his beady eyes cutting into Tony. Neither man appeared happy to be out in the chilly wee hours of the morning regardless of the reason. "What's the FBI doing here?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"Don't change the subject, DiNozzo; I could have let you spend the night in a cell with the rest of the degenerates and drunks. Explain. Now."

DiNozzo sighed and rubbed his wrists again; he had no choice in the matter so he decided to get it over with. How mad could Gibbs be once he heard the truth? "Some guy tried to force me outside with him. Said a bunch of crazy shit about showing me what a true Dom could do. He was as big as a tree, Boss, and I couldn't let him take me out of the club, so I improvised in order to get away from him. You know, like Patrick Swayze in Road House?" Gibbs didn't respond; Tony ran a hand through his messy hair. "I did what I had to do." He set his jaw defiantly; this was definitely not his fault and he had no intention of letting it play out that way.

"Can you identify this Dom?" Fornell asked, showing an unusual interest in identifying Tony's attacker. "Maybe pick him out of a lineup?"

"Well, yeah," Tony said, unsure why Fornell was so intrigued. "Do you mind telling me why the FBI is so concerned about all of this?" Gibbs' face was tight, and by the intent way he watched his friend he didn't seem to know what Fornell was digging for either.

"I'll read you guys in after I interview the staff. Jethro, could you pull the security tapes?" Fornell requested, his gaze turning back toward the building. "We've been waiting months for a break in the case connected to this club and I don't want to risk missing anything. The Dom who went after Tony might be the guy I've been looking for."

For a second, Tony wasn't certain what Gibbs' answer was going to be as the NCIS agent evaluated Fornell. Clearly there was something bigger going on here than a random bar fight. For his part, Fornell nearly danced with nervous excitement, ready to pounce on a potential lead. Gibbs eventually relaxed his posture. "Alright, but I expect a complete briefing at NCIS as soon as you have everything you can collect."

"Thanks, Jethro," the older man expressed gratefully before immediately returning to the cordoned off area, his trench coat flapping behind him.

Tony moved to follow.

"Where are you going?" Gibbs asked, placing a hand on Tony's arm to stop him.

"To help figure out what the hell has Fornell's panties in a knot. I still don't get it." Tony glared at the hand securely wrapped around his arm, not sure if this physical contact could replace a head slap or not.

Gibbs abruptly dropped his hand when he noticed Tony staring at it. "Hey, Fornell," he yelled over to the FBI agent who was standing a few feet away. "I need your keys."

Fornell shrugged, fished in his pocket and tossed a set of keys, which Gibbs easily caught with one hand and passed to DiNozzo. "You go sit in Fornell's car and stay out of the way. I'll deal with you at the office."

Tony looked at the keys, at Fornell, then at Gibbs. "You're kidding me, right? Are you giving me a time-out, or what? I mean, come on, this really wasn't my fault." He accepted responsibility for a lot of stuff, but blaming him for this was totally unfair.

Gibbs simply stared at him mute and stone-faced. Finally Fornell spoke up. "I don't think he's kidding, DiNutso. You'd better do what he says before the vein that's pulsing on the side of his head explodes."

"Fine," Tony replied, providing his own arctic glare at Gibbs; he had learned from the master after all. Screw it. Trying to please Gibbs right now was a hopeless task. He sulked over to the car and jerked the door open. Every move he made with Gibbs turned into a big pile of shit, and he was about ready to stop trying.

NCISNCISNCIS

Fornell placed a file on the table; Gibbs opened it and started flipping through the documents. "Over the last twelve months at least eight men have disappeared from the DC area – all of them were in some way connected with masculine jobs, including police officers, firemen, federal agents, and military personnel. An FBI agent disappeared several months ago, and a marine went missing about a week ago. All of the missing individuals are between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five, all are in excellent physical condition, and all could be classified as rather…" the agent paused, searching for the right word, while Gibbs perused photographs of ruggedly attractive men, "….handsome." He grinned sheepishly when Gibbs made a grunting noise. "That's not my assessment, but the declaration of all the females – and a few males - who have skimmed through the pictures."

"So we've got a bunch of missing guys who could've been male models if they hadn't decided to go into some branch of the military or law enforcement instead." Gibbs summarized. "Guess we're safe," he smirked at Fornell.

"Speak for yourself," the other man countered with a cocky smile, winking at his partner who had joined them at the Navy Yard to update Gibbs and his team on the case.

Ron Sacks snorted loudly and interjected. "We noticed the pattern while investigating the disappearance of FBI Agent Jeremy Davis, reported missing by his mother approximately two months ago. When we extended the search parameters the other potential victims emerged, which is why we're asking NCIS to assist in the investigation."

Gibbs stopped at the picture of a chisel-jawed marine. "I heard about this case; it was assigned to another team; so far they haven't found any leads."

Fornell shrugged. "I want your team on it now, so I'll bring you up to speed on what we've got. All the missing men have one thing in common – at one time or other each of them frequented local clubs that cater to a specific clientele." He pointed at a picture of the nondescript establishment that had been the center of tonight's attention. "It took a while to corroborate they were all patrons of these places. Most of the establishments have been less than cooperative when questioned, indicating their clients like privacy and would not want their names released. We dug around a lot to substantiate the links between the men and these bars."

Gibbs gave Fornell a meaningful stare. "The Cage" is a pretty popular place with the Dominant/submissive scene, or so I've heard."

"Yeah, I know," Fornell replied cryptically. "What do you think your team was doing there tonight? Research?"

"They're all fascinated with that Sawyer guy; well, all of them except DiNozzo. I don't know what the hell he was doing there." The NCIS agent tapped his fingers on the table. "I take it the disappearances are linked to the D/s scene?"

"All the men who have disappeared are into that lifestyle," Sacks confirmed. "This particular club opened well before the Sawyer movement and it caters to a rougher crowd. The people who go there aren't playing around with some new fad they saw on a talk show, they are seriously into the entire BDSM subculture. And as I said before, each man went to a club like this one at some point prior to his disappearance. You can draw your own conclusions."

Gibbs pursed his lips and locked gazes with Fornell. "So what do you propose to do now?"

Fornell cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "First we need to check out the guy who tried to move on DiNozzo; he's a definite person of interest. If that doesn't pan out, I'm thinking we need to send someone in undercover to one of the other clubs. Get some eyes and ears on the inside."

There was dead silence while Gibbs turned inanimate as a statue. "Got someone in mind?" he finally asked. Only one individual he knew came close to the description of the victims.

There was a slight lift to Fornell's chin. "I was thinking DiNutso would be perfect. Tonight was proof of that."

"No," Gibbs responded swiftly.

"Why not? You're always telling me what a great agent he is and your boy fits the profile to a tee. He's the best choice for this assignment if we need to continue."

Gibbs thinned his lips. "He's too old; Tony's at least three years over the age range of any of the victims."

Sacks laughed. "Are you serious? DiNozzo could easily pass for thirty-two or thirty-three and he's good-looking enough. Give him a fake id and I don't believe age will be an issue."

Gibbs' stare turned glacial. "I'm assuming these men were all submissive in nature. You plan on sending Tony in there to act like a sub?"

Now it was Fornell's turn to laugh. "You really think that's going to be a problem? Come on, Gibbs, any Dom worth his salt can figure out that DiNozzo's a sub in about sixty seconds flat. It won't take much acting for him to pull this off."

"That doesn't mean he knows how to behave like a sub! Did you see the damage to the inside of that club? All because some Dom tried to manhandle him?" Gibbs raised his voice and leaned toward his friend. "Trust me, I'm with him nearly every damn day and he has no clue how to submit to someone! They'll realize he's a fake in less than an hour, kick him out on his ass, and we'll never find those men. I don't think we want our investigation to hinge on whether or not DiNozzo can get on his knees for a Dom!"

Fornell leaned back in his chair and scratched the stubble on his chin. "You're being unreasonable, Gibbs."

"Yeah, so what's new? The answer is no and that's final. Why don't you send your own wonderboy in?" He jerked his chin at Sacks.

"Because Sacks is a Dom and shit at undercover work. He'd mouth off to somebody and the op would be dead on arrival. Your boy's better. He was on his own time tonight; he'll behave better if he's there for the job."

"Hey!" Sacks protested Fornell's description of him. "I can do this if I have to. You don't need DiNozzo!"

Fornell growled impatiently. "Go wait in the hall. I'll be out in a minute."

Sacks pushed his chair back with a thump and slammed the door behind him.

"See what I mean? No anger management," Fornell groused. He studied his friend's face. "What's going on here, Gibbs? DiNozzo's good, even if I won't admit it to him; he won't have a problem carrying this out. I don't understand your opposition."

Gibbs folded his arms. "You said it yourself, Tobias. Any Dom who gets a glimpse of Tony is going to feel it's his duty to put DiNozzo in his place. If you hadn't noticed, Tony isn't exactly the poster boy for proper submissive behavior even if you think he can be. He could get himself hurt and at the same time destroy any chance we have at finding out what's going on. He's lucky tonight ended with only a few bruises."

The balding man grunted. "We'll keep watch over him, tell him what to do. You're more than just worried about whether someone's going to get a little rough with him…." His voice trailed off and his eyes grew wide. "Holy crap, Gibbs. You don't want him in there because you're jealous! You don't want anyone else to get their hands on him until you've had a chance. Damnit, how could I have not noticed this before?"

"Listen, Fornell, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but that's not it," Gibbs said resolutely, placing his hands flat on the table. I'm not that easy to read.

"It's not? You and I've been around the scene for a long time, Jethro – we were going to that bar years before everyone else caught on to it. If you'd done a better job at training Diane I might not have had so many problems with her. I get it though, DiNozzo's a fine looking man – a little annoying for my tastes, but I can definitely see the attraction."

"I am not attracted to DiNozzo!" Gibbs practically shouted as he rose to his feet.

The outburst didn't affect Fornell, who nodded knowingly despite the protest. "You keep telling yourself that, Jethro. It's a shame neither one of you is smart enough to figure this out on your own, cause now that I'm thinking about it that's the only reason I can find for DiNozzo sticking around you for so long. It's definitely a mutual attraction."

Gibbs pulled Fornell up by the shirt collar. "You've crossed the line, old friend."

The FBI agent snorted. "Calm down, Gibbs. I won't say anything to him." He patted Gibbs on the cheek. "You're secret's safe with me. Now quit charging around here like a bull in heat and think about my idea with your head and not your…well, you know." Fornell's eyes shined brightly and he gave Gibbs' crotch an exaggerated stare. Tobias gingerly removed Gibbs' hand from his shirt and walked out of the room, leaving Gibbs standing alone, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.

He and Fornell might go back a long way, but that gave his friend no right to allude to such insane notions. Tony was his subordinate and he was concerned for his safety. That was all. Rule Twelve existed for a reason, making DiNozzo strictly off limits, and he wasn't going to bend that rule just because Tobias Fornell suddenly decided to play matchmaker. Besides, he knew Tony was a chronic womanizer and had never looked at him that way, so the entire scenario was nonsense, his own occasional fantasies be damned.

Gibbs stalked out of the conference room in the direction of the bullpen. Their latest case was essentially closed, so he'd start the team investigating the Dom who'd come on to Tony – if this man proved to be involved, it could end the case quickly before he had to consider sending anyone, especially DiNozzo, in undercover.

NCISNCISNCIS

McGee clicked the button on the remote and the video on the screen came to life; a grainy image of the bar's interior showed Tony walk to the edge of the line of people staring at the middle of the room where Gibbs knew the show was taking place. He'd been to this particular club more than a few times himself, so the layout wasn't unknown to him. The older man tried to ignore the look of rapt fascination crossing Tony's expressive features – his agent was obviously enraptured by the public spanking as evidenced by the way his eyes widened and he licked his lips. Gibbs doubted the younger man had any idea how attractive the play of emotions made him. DiNozzo tiptoed and peered around the patrons blocking his view. A man moved in behind him, lewdly gazing up and down his body. The man reached out a hand and grasped Tony on the butt.

"Subtle," Ziva commented, tugging her leather top down. Gibbs hadn't allowed them time to change clothes figuring it would be a good way to teach them a lesson about proper attire even when off the job. Ziva scanned the empty bullpen for any witnesses to her humiliation. Fortunately for her it was still way too early for anyone else to be around.

Gibbs' attention went back to the video; his hand clenched tightly around his coffee cup when he saw Tony's ass being groped; his blood boiled at the violation. DiNozzo's image turned around to say something to the man. A part of him wondered why Tony hadn't immediately punched the piece of slime in the nose. Another part hoped he'd get the chance to do it himself. He chose not to reflect on his reaction too much, since a small voice in his head warned him his response wasn't entirely professional and that Fornell might have been on to something earlier. He clamped down on his emotional turmoil like a vice grip.

The real DiNozzo crunched an aspirin and readjusted the icepack on the back of his head. Gibbs spared him a glance, accepting Ducky's determination that Tony's injuries were minor and didn't require medical treatment beyond over the counter medication, ice, and a full night's sleep. "This is where the good part starts," the battered agent informed them wearily.

The man grabbed Tony's arm and dragged him several feet through the bar before Tony rammed him and within seconds the entire club seemed to be involved in the altercation. Someone hit Tony-on-the-screen over the head with a bottle and Tony-in-real-life groaned in sympathy, chewing another aspirin. The Dom that started it all snuck toward the door, his face in clear view of the camera. McGee paused on his image.

Fornell cleared his throat. "His name is Alex Phillips and he works as a computer tech for the Pentagon. He's been arrested multiple times for domestic violence. The bartender at the club said he comes in several nights a week and is well known for being way too aggressive with subs. They've received a lot of complaints about him," the FBI agent reported. "Sounds like a possible suspect."

"Suspect for what?" McGee asked, trying to remain professional despite his torn shirt and the tight jeans that had him squirming every few seconds to readjust himself. "You still haven't explained what you're looking for."

"We're looking for eight missing law enforcement personnel, including a marine and a federal agent. They all vanished after visiting this particular club and others like it in the DC area," Gibbs stated evenly. "Looks as if DiNozzo was being mauled by a potential kidnapper."

Tony's head popped up; he screwed his eyes shut for a second following the movement, re-opening them slowly. "You think the guy who tried to grab me might be the perp?"

"It's possible," Fornell confirmed. "You fit the profile of the other victims and so far we have nothing better to go on." The FBI agent snagged a folder off Gibbs' desk and handed it to Tony, who scanned through the photographs quickly. "Guess we lucked out that you decided to party there tonight." Fornell smirked at Gibbs, whose face pinched like he'd just sucked on a lemon.

Tony stood, continuing to press the icepack to the back of his head. "So I just played bait for a serial kidnapper and didn't even know it? Cool."

"Cool?" Gibbs' voice could have cut steel. "Are you serious? You actually think this was cool? You're fortunate that LEO was a former marine willing to do a favor for an ex-gunny so you didn't end up getting charged with anything. As it is, NCIS is going to have to pay for the damages." Gibbs frowned, another thought occurring to him. "Better hope Vance doesn't take it out of your paycheck or send you off to the field office in Wichita."

Tony's mouth dropped open and he stammered in disbelief. "You…you saw the damn video! I didn't have a choice!" He winced at the sound of his raised voice. "Would you rather I'd been abducted?"

Gibbs moved into his personal space. He might not be willing to head slap the younger man right now, but that didn't mean he was going to let him rant and rave without any consequences. His second-in-command obviously had no clue that this could be the ticket Vance needed to get rid of him. The knowledge that Tony might have sealed his own fate sent him over the edge. "I'd rather you weren't there at all! What were you doing at a D/s club anyway? I thought you didn't buy into all that shit!"

"I can go where I want; the last time I checked I didn't have to ask anyone for permission. So I guess it's none of your damn business why I was there," Tony answered angrily, pulling himself to his full height and refusing to take a step backward even though Gibbs was basically pressed up against him. The two men stared each other down, neither willing to back off first. Tension filled the air around them, everyone afraid to breathe or move.

Abby finally spoke from the spot on the spare desk where she had been sitting quietly. "Gibbs, Tony didn't want to go out tonight – I talked him into it. So you shouldn't be mad at him, you should be mad at me."

The head of the Major Crimes Response Team ran a hand through his silver hair and the lines on his face softened slightly when he turned to face his favorite scientist. Abby wrung her hands and bit her ruby red lip. "Sorry," she whispered apologetically, barely glancing up at him through her eyelashes.

Gibbs huffed air out his nose. His entire team had lost their minds, but he admired that Abby was ready to take the brunt of his ire for her friend. "New rule. No going clubbing on school nights. You got it?" No one answered. "I asked if you got it?" he repeated tersely.

There were mumbled answers of, "Yeah, Boss." Tony simply folded his arms and ground his teeth angrily.

"Palmer!" Gibbs snapped, ignoring his senior field agent's desultory expression. He'd address Tony's issues later in private; whatever was going on with DiNozzo had reached the point of no return and needed to be resolved before anything else occurred. He didn't intend to lose Tony as a member of his team, or as a friend, and it was past time to do something about it. "That means you, too!"

The shirtless young man slowly emerged from where he'd been sitting behind a partition trying to go unnoticed. "Ok, Gibbs. I understand."

"Good. Now let's go interview this jerk."

NCISNCISNCIS

"Remember me?" Tony asked with a bright smile when Alex Phillips opened the door of his apartment. The man gasped in surprise and tried to slam the door shut, but Tony had already lodged his foot inside. He shoved the door open, forcing his way past the muscular computer geek. Gibbs and Fornell followed.

"What are you doing here?" Phillips demanded, trying to recover from his shock. "You have no right to be in my home."

"And I thought you'd be happy to see me," Tony chided, taking long strides into the center of the room. Fornell perched on the edge of the sofa and Gibbs leaned nonchalantly against a wall. "This rather unpleasant gentleman is NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and he's accompanied by the less than cheerful FBI Agent Tobias Fornell. I guess I should introduce myself, too, since you were too busy last night making an acquaintance with my ass to find out my name. I'm Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. My friends and I would like to ask you a few questions."

Phillips shuffled his feet. "I didn't hit anyone," he blurted out. "I left as soon as the fight started. You can't blame that on me."

Fornell looked at his fingernails. "I don't want to know about the fight – the video clearly shows exactly what led to that event as well as your involvement. I want to know why you thought it was a good idea to try and force Agent DiNozzo to leave with you."

Gibbs left his position and wandered around the living room. He opened a drawer on an armoire and lifted out a whip, a paddle, a gag, and a flogger with spiky barbs on it. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Hey, leave that stuff alone! I didn't give you permission to go through my things. Where's your warrant?" Phillips voice increased in pitch and sweat beaded on his upper lip.

"This is just a friendly chat; you invited us in, right? I mean, come on, you wanted to get to know me better," Tony said casually, trying to keep the suspect off-kilter. "So here I am, trying to take our relationship to the next level."

The man rubbed his forehead and laughed nervously. "Ok, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were a Fed! You were just so into the spanking scene, I wanted to help you out, help you relax some." Alex's face turned pink and he breathed more quickly, the memory apparently arousing him. He closed his eyes for a second. "Most subs like a firm Dom who won't take no for an answer."

"Geez! There it is with the sub thing again. What makes you think I'm a sub anyway?" Tony demanded, raising his hands in exasperation. He was getting sick of the label when he didn't agree with it himself.

Gibbs shook his head. "Drop it, DiNozzo." He stared at Phillips. "What did you plan to do once you got him out of the club? The same thing you did with all the other missing men?"

Phillips gawked, blinking rapidly. "What? Missing men? I don't even know what you're talking about. I…." He hesitated, but after a moment continued, his eyes shifting to rest intently on Tony. "I just wanted to show him what a real spanking could feel like." His mouth curled into a twisted smile and his breathing slowed. "You would've liked it, I promise. I've been told I'm very good." He walked closer to Tony, reaching out a hand causing Tony to involuntarily back away, startled by the lustful look in the man's eyes.

In a heartbeat Phillip's hand was shoved behind his back. "Hey!" he protested, trying to wriggle out of the tight grip the former gunnery sergeant had on his wrist and elbow which had been bent into an unnatural angle. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Who told you it was ok to touch subs without permission? Someone needs to teach you a lesson or two," Gibbs growled menacingly, wrenching the man's arm up higher until he screeched. Tony stared dumbly, not sure what had prompted Gibbs to react this way – if the former marine didn't stop, Phillips' arm would pop out of the socket. The suspect lifted onto his toes and mewled in agony.

"Stop," he begged. "Stop before you break my arm!"

"Let him go, Boss," Tony urged, confused. He'd never seen Gibbs get this physical with a suspect. The guy hadn't even put a finger on him and besides he was perfectly capable of handling himself. He didn't need Gibbs jumping in like he was some sort of damsel in distress.

"Calm down, Jethro," Fornell suggested, as he picked up a stack of photographs off a table, holding the glossy pictures so Gibbs and Tony could see them. The images were of a variety of men and taken from a distance, obviously without the subject's knowledge. The top one displayed Tony leaning against the bar the previous night. "I think we have enough to take him in for questioning anyway."

Gibbs cuffed Phillips, who squealed indignantly. "Not so tight, you're hurting me!"

The lead agent smiled a little, apparently pleased with that piece of information. "It's idiots like you who give Doms a bad name." He manhandled the guy out the door. "DiNozzo, call Ziva and McGee and get them over here to process this place."

Tony quickly did as directed, before taking a few steps and then hesitating awkwardly. "What about me?" he asked, unsure if he should stay and help process or go with Gibbs and Fornell to interrogate Phillips. He hadn't been able to get a handle on Gibbs' current mood, so anything was possible.

Gibbs barely spared him a glance. "You're coming with us," he called over his shoulder while he walked the grumbling Phillips to the car.

Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes, his body reminding him it had been nearly forty-eight hours since he'd gotten any sleep. His head hadn't quit pounding since the fight and the bruises across his mid-section and back ached dully. He wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower and to crawl under his covers, not an afternoon spent at the mercy of the increasingly mercurial and possibly bipolar Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Fornell stood close when he opened his eyes. "I don't think you're getting out of his sight anytime soon, DiNozzo." The FBI agent laughed at his own private joke, although Tony wasn't sure what he found so funny. "I'm not sure if that's good or bad for you."

Tony mustered up a tired smirk. There wasn't much use for him to say anything, since he agreed with Fornell that it was a toss-up as to whether Gibbs was going to baby him one minute or fire him the next. Everything about their interaction had acquired a schizophrenic quality. He'd been a connoisseur of Gibbs' behavior for years, studying the man, trying to understand him. Tidbits along the way had proved enlightening, from finding out about Shannon and Kelly to meeting Mike Franks, and finally discovering his affair with Jenny. However the last few weeks Gibbs had been – strange, different – even more so the past two days. Tony struggled to get his head around it. It was as if Gibbs didn't trust him enough to be alone for five minutes.

The conclusion he reached didn't make him feel any better. Gibbs had tolerated him longer than anyone else, and he could see through Tony like a set of bones exposed on an x-ray. The blue-eyed agent knew that sending Tony away as Agent Afloat had nearly killed him, and that firing or transferring him off the team would be devastating. So Gibbs let him hang on even though everybody knew it was time for him to go. Hell, even Jenny had tried to push him to move on and he had refused to take the opportunity she had presented on a silver platter.

Obviously, Gibbs didn't want him on the team anymore, but was unwilling or unable to tell him. It was time for Tony to face the truth, and make the decision to leave on his own. It would rip him apart, yet the option of staying while Gibbs treated him like a pariah one minute and an incompetent moron the next – well, that wasn't a choice at all. Spending every day knowing Gibbs was only keeping him around out of obligation was a fate he couldn't endure.

His transfer request would be on Vance's desk by the end of the day. It might not make him happy, but for everyone else it should be a relief.

Especially Gibbs.