Author's Notes: Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews! I was really nervous when I started posting this story, and almost decided not to post at all, but your responses have been so supportive it makes me very glad I did.
I apologize for the mistake in the previous chapter; I had Rick refer to Gibbs as "Gibbs" and not "Leroy." I told you I didn't have time to edit!
For those of you wanting escape – things go wild next chapter. Someone is coming to visit the camp – any guesses who?
WARNING: BDSM, non-con, dub-con, slash, kink. Not interested in these topics, please don't read!
Chapter 16
McGee let his eyes flick around the bullpen, taking in the anxious behavior of his friends and co-workers. Ziva sat behind her desk with her chin resting on her hand, tapping a pencil and staring blankly at her computer monitor. Fornell lounged behind Gibbs' desk, feet propped on the corner, hands clasped across his stomach with his eyes closed. McGee couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, but he seriously doubted the FBI agent was actually doing anything more than dozing. Sacks had found a chair from an empty desk and pulled it over; he had it tilted back and his head rested on the partition next to Gibbs' desk. His eyes were open, and they were locked on Abby, who sat behind Tony's desk as she muttered softly to herself and performed some type of…ritual.
Over the years Tim had learned that sometimes it was best not to ask too many questions where Abby was concerned. He loved her dearly, but after spending the night in her coffin even he had to admit that she had some eccentricities. Currently her obsession was voodoo, and she was completely convinced that all of Madam Maison's suggestions should be followed immediately in order to ensure Tony and Gibbs safe return. Which explained why she was chanting in French Creole and breathing in the noxious fumes from the small ceramic pot filled with a concoction of herbs, strange liquids, and he suspected some hair pulled off of the comb from Tony's file cabinet and a drop or two of bourbon from the flask in the bottom drawer of Gibbs' desk.
Her voice rose in volume and she picked up a rattle that looked like it could have been made from a bone and waved it over the bowl; Sacks' eyes grew wider at her movements.
McGee shook his head and continued monitoring for any hits on Ziva's fake identification.
The elevator doors opened and Palmer paced out followed by Ducky; the two of them stopped in front of Abby.
"Any luck?" the Scot burred hopefully, wringing his hands anxiously.
Abby paused in her ceremony and popped open one bright green eye. "I can feel it working, just like Madam Maison said. Something's going to happen soon." She shut her eye and continued the incantation.
Sacks opened his mouth as if to say something, but McGee shot him a warning glance. The Fed snapped his jaw closed and continued to watch warily.
"This is ridiculous!" Ziva exploded, throwing down her pencil and standing up abruptly. "We are sitting here like bumps on a dog!"
"Log…." Tim corrected. "Bumps on a log. And we just got a hit on your fake background." He raised his head to look at her. "Seems like someone is interested in the life and times of Ziva Hadar."
Abby glanced at him and her chanting grew even louder. Ducky cocked an eyebrow. Sacks dropped the legs of his chair back onto the floor. Fornell cracked an eye open.
The Goth scientist stood, raising her hands in the air as her words sped up. Several passing employees slowed down and gawked at the spectacle, but didn't linger when Ziva shot daggers at them with her dark brown eyes.
McGee prayed that Vance didn't show up any time soon.
No one moved, all of them captivated by the intensity of Abby's ritual. The scene might have gone on longer, except that Ziva's cell phone started ringing. The Israeli stared down at it as it vibrated on her desk.
Tim realized it wasn't her work phone, but the one they had activated for her undercover persona.
Abby's hypnotic recitation reached a fever pitch and then suddenly stopped, plunging the room into silence. She stared at Ziva expectantly. "Answer it," she demanded, pointing a finger at the phone.
Ziva blinked and followed the command. "Hello. Yes – you are very perceptive. I am definitely interested in the type of companion you describe. What do I have to do to participate?" She paused. "Of course. I will see you tomorrow."
She ended the call and placed the phone back on her desk. "Well?" Fornell asked, standing up, very wide awake.
"I am to meet the contact tomorrow to discuss my attendance at a slave auction. If all goes well, I will be given information for how to enter the event."
Fornell nodded. "That's good. Real good. We might catch a break on this case yet."
"Of course you will!" Abby exclaimed, and they all turned to look at her. She waved her hand over the potion on Tony's desk, tendrils of aromatic smoke curling into the air, swirling into lazy patterns as she passed her fingers through it. "Madam Maison said we were due for good luck, and here it is! I'm so excited!" She clapped her hands together and bounced up and down before stopping to frown. "But we might need this again." She picked up the foul smelling concoction and eased into Tony's top desk drawer before shutting it tightly.
McGee made a face. It was sure to smell worse than Tony's sweaty tube socks after trying to run down a suspect. Especially if it was in there very long. Actually, he had been subjected to Tony's tube socks after they had been lying in a drawer for a few weeks, and maybe Abby's mixture wouldn't be quite that bad. He smiled to himself. For the first time he felt a little bit of hope that maybe Tony might actually make it back.
He'd be happy to get him home, sweaty socks and all.
NCISNCISNCIS
When Tony woke again the first thing he noticed was the lack of sound; the rain and thunder must have passed by leaving the night still and quiet. A chill ran across his naked skin and he shifted over, reaching his hand out to find Gibbs' warm body to snuggle up against and drive the cold away.
All his hand discovered was empty space and frigid sheets.
He levered up on an elbow and searched around, trying to figure out where Gibbs had gone. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a shadowed form seated in a chair across the room, and as his vision cleared he could see the other man was slouching with his legs crossed and his chin resting on his hand. Gibbs stared at Tony without moving.
"Boss? What are you doing?" The figure didn't respond, and Tony tried to repress a shiver that raised goosebumps on his flesh. Something wasn't right.
He snagged the sheet and wrapped it around his shoulders to ward off the crisp air, and slid from the bed, padding over to where Gibbs sat. Without thinking, Tony knelt in the floor by his knees and looked up warily.
"Why are you sitting in the dark?"
Pale blue eyes flicked toward him, and Tony felt a stab in his stomach when he realized the intense sadness that Gibbs couldn't hide in the opaque depths. His stomach churned.
"Did I do something wrong?" Tony tried to hide the note of desperation that edged his voice, but he knew it was still there.
Gibbs pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. "No, Tony, you didn't do anything wrong. I did."
"What do you mean?" Tony asked. "Are you talking about earlier? Do you regret it already? I thought…" He couldn't finish the sentence, it was so pathetic. I thought you loved me.
Gibbs didn't seem to be paying attention. "I used you, Tony; I took advantage of you. Of course I regret that."
Tony shook his head and rose up on his knees. "Are you crazy? That was…..we were….I wanted it to happen. How can you say you took advantage of me?"
Gibbs smiled crookedly. "Do you have any idea what happened earlier?"
Tony considered the statement before answering. "I know what happened." A dozen thoughts raced through his mind. I gave you everything inside me.
The older man licked his lips and leaned forward, gazing intently into Tony's eyes. "What we did was special, and it mattered, but you can't tell me this place hasn't affected you. I want you to submit to me because it's of your own free will, not because you've been conditioned to it by being here."
Tony sank back down on his heels, wishing there was a way to get Gibbs to understand. He knew, beyond any doubt, that he had fully and completely wanted to be with Gibbs and he would never, ever regret the decision to submit to him. "You didn't force me; I chose. Don't twist everything around like this."
"You've never had your senses completely deprived before; don't downplay your response to the experience. Plus, you'd just watched a man get tortured and shot; no one would be thinking rationally after that," Gibbs said softly, unwilling to see Tony's position.
DiNozzo was growing increasingly frustrated. "Don't treat me like a child, Boss. I know I got Mark killed." He felt self-loathing bubble up inside him. "I should have stayed out of it."
Gibbs grabbed Tony's face gently with both hands. "You should have stayed out of it – but it doesn't mean what happened to that man was your fault. These people are insane, Tony, and you can't forget that. You're lucky they didn't kill you, too. You have to stop baiting them; I can only protect you so far."
Tony sighed, letting his cheek rest against Gibbs' flat palm. It felt so good to have the older man touching him; he wasn't sure how he had managed to survive without it. "I'm sorry; I was trying to help."
"I know." Gibbs brushed Tony's hair back then let his hand drop. "But it isn't worth getting yourself hurt. I couldn't live with that. Right now the only thing you need to think about is not doing anything that would make them want to punish you again." Gibbs sat back and breathed in deeply through his nose, letting the air out slowly.
Tony could see the tension in the former sniper's tightly wound body, but he couldn't let the earlier comment go. "So do you really think what we did tonight was a mistake? I don't know how you can think that." Tony wasn't sure he really wanted to find out what was going on in Gibbs' head, but he couldn't ignore it. What had happened between them had been incredible, and Tony couldn't accept that Gibbs hadn't felt it, too.
"Tony," Gibbs began. "You were so far down tonight I could have done anything I wanted and you wouldn't have stopped me. I knew that, and I should have respected the fact you weren't making sound decisions. It was wrong of me to coerce you like that."
Tony's eyes knitted into a confused frown. "I'm telling you I knew what I was doing!" He tried not to shout, but he was getting angry. "Didn't it mean anything to you?"
Gibbs' hand clenched the arm of the chair. "You were in subspace, Tony," he said forcefully. "It happens to submissives sometimes when they're….in sync with a Dom. You weren't thinking straight."
Tony let his mind drift back over the events of the previous evening. Yes, he had felt different, hazy, kind of out of it. But it was a good feeling, and it didn't prevent him from being aware of what was going on around him. If that was subspace, he guessed he'd been missing out by fighting everyone around him about being submissive. "I'm telling you Gibbs, it was what I wanted to do," he reiterated. "I'm glad it happened, but I don't guess you are."
Tony folded his arms and stared defiantly at Gibbs, who continued to frown at him. Finally, the other man spoke.
"This place is messing with your head, DiNozzo. If anything is going to develop between us it has to be when you aren't influenced by everything going on here. I won't lose control like that again." He stood and held his hand out, ending the conversation. "Let's go back to bed."
Tony stared at the outstretched palm, knowing there would be no more sleep for him tonight. He lifted his eyes up to the man he had given his entire soul to and wondered what he'd been thinking. There would no happy ending, no romantic declarations of forever and always. Gibbs would wear his guilt like a shroud and push Tony away "for his own good."
"Now, Tony. We have no idea what tomorrow has in store for us and we need to rest while we can." Gibbs' managed to muster up a half-hearted smile and squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, everything's going to be alright. I'm going to protect you."
Mindlessly Tony allowed Gibbs to help him to his feet and lead him to bed. He sank down and felt Gibbs' weight dip into the mattress behind him.
DiNozzo pulled the sheet tightly around his frozen body and hugged himself, unable to fight back the cold that gripped his heart. Even the strong arm that curled around his shoulders wasn't enough to thaw the icy ball of disappointment that had settled deep inside his stomach.
They had to get away from here before Gibbs decided he was too damaged to ever try to love.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs opened the door at the first tentative knock, propping it open so Josh could deliver the coffee that had become part of his morning ritual. The kid sat the cups and pastries on the table and stood there, shifting back and forth and staring at his shoes.
"You wanna say something?" Gibbs asked.
Josh swallowed hard. "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday; Mark was a nice guy. He didn't deserve to die like that."
"Nope." Gibbs picked up his cup and took a sip, letting the hot liquid burn a fiery trail down his throat. He could wait and drink his first cup when they were all having breakfast in the dining area, but that would take too long. He needed this initial jolt of caffeine to get him going. With a shrug he glared at the nervous boy. "Anything else?"
"I'm afraid the same thing is going to happen to him." He gestured at Tony, who lay sprawled face down on the bed, the sheet the only thing covering his ass from full view. Gibbs was trying to let DiNozzo sleep as long as possible; he was certain it had only been a few hours ago when Tony finally relaxed and dozed off. It had been a long night for both of them.
"Would that bother you?" Gibbs tried to get to the bottom of Josh's agitation.
"Are you kidding me? This whole situation bothers me! I don't know how much longer I can stand it!"
Tony fidgeted and rolled over, his long arm flopping across his stomach. The sheet somehow managed to stay strategically in place.
Josh rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. "Sorry. You don't seem like the rest of them…." His eyes darted around the room. "I should go."
Gibbs stepped in front of the kid. "Do you really think your Uncle will let you walk away from this and never look back? With all that you know about him? After witnessing a murder?"
Josh's eyes grew wide. "He can't keep me here. I have to go back to school…." He blinked several times and his shoulders slumped in defeat and acceptance of his fate. "I'm screwed."
Gibbs took another sip of coffee. He was taking a chance, but his gut insisted the boy wasn't bad, just stuck in a situation he had underestimated and couldn't get out of on his own.
"I could help you," Gibbs said calmly.
Josh goggled at him. "How?" Comprehension spread across his young face. "You aren't going to let them auction him, are you? Are you going to try and escape?" He shook his head. "That's crazy; you'd never get out of here. You'll both end up dead."
"Maybe," Gibbs agreed. "But that doesn't mean we aren't going to try."
Josh bit his lip. "Will you take me with you?"
Gibbs took a deep breath and hoped he was making the right decision. It was a big risk to trust this kid he barely knew, but they had to do something. "It depends on whether or not you can help us."
The boy grinned impishly. "Just tell me what to do."
Gibbs filled him in on what he'd accomplished so far, including the several bags of supplies he'd managed to put together yesterday and hide near the fence. They only needed to know when the electricity would be cut off again and how to get their hands on some wire cutters.
"Supplies will be delivered at the end of the week," Josh explained. "The electric fence will be down for several hours. I'll make sure to have the wire cutters ready; I don't think I'll have a problem getting into the shed where they're kept. You think we can make it through the forest? It could take days before we make it into a town and the nights are getting pretty cold this time of year."
"We'll make it," Gibbs answered. "Just be ready and don't say anything. I'll talk to you again in a few days."
Josh nodded solemnly as Gibbs herded him out the door. When he turned around Tony was sitting up watching him.
"Do you think that was a smart move?" his senior field agent questioned.
"We've got to have help if we're going to get out of here. I managed to pack some water, blankets, and clothes for you, but I couldn't get into the tool shed for the wire cutters. We don't have a lot of options without him."
Tony rubbed his hair and let out a huff of air. "He seems ok; I hope nothing spooks him between now and the end of the week. He's awfully skittish."
"I can't say I blame him." Gibbs glanced at his watch. "Time to get moving."
"Yeah, right." Tony scooted to the edge of the bed and stood, hesitating. "About last night…."
Gibbs didn't want to get into that conversation right now. They needed to get out of here before they could talk about anything serious, so he cut Tony off. "We'll discuss it later, when we have more time. Turn around and let me take a look at your back."
Tony's eyes flashed with frustration but he complied, holding himself stiffly while Gibbs inspected the red welts left over from the punishment. The marks were raised and puffy, but the skin was unbroken. "How does it feel?"
DiNozzo shrugged dismissively. "Hurts, but not too bad. Listen, Boss," he tried again. "I think we need to talk. You've got things all wrong…"
Gibbs shook his head. "This isn't the time, Tony. Hit the shower; you've got about ten minutes before I need you back out here."
Tony's gaze closed off, quickly becoming unreadable. It was a look Gibbs was entirely familiar with, and confirmation of why Tony wasn't anywhere near ready to determine he was a sub. "Fine," he muttered, stalking into the bathroom.
It was not going to be a pleasant day. Tony was apparently going to push and wheedle him at every turn. Gibbs mentally prepared himself for the assault, resolved not to give in to the demands. Even he had to admit last night had been incredible, but his mind was made up and nothing more was going to happen between them until he delivered Tony safely back home.
Gibbs spent the next few minutes gathering supplies and laying them on the bed. When DiNozzo exited the bathroom scrubbing a towel over his wet hair, Gibbs pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him. "Over here."
Tony's eyes narrowed; he tossed the towel behind him and sauntered to the area where Gibbs indicated, his sharp green eyes noticing the items on the bed. "What's that for?"
Here we go. "You're going to wear it again today."
Tony laughed skeptically. "I don't think so; it isn't very comfortable and the color doesn't match my eyes. Why do you want me to anyway?"
Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Does it matter? I thought you were ready to submit to me."
DiNozzo didn't have an immediate response, opening his mouth in shock before finding words to spit back. "Yeah, it matters. Would you want to walk around all day trussed up in that….contraption?" He gestured at the offending item with disgust.
Gibbs took a step closer to him. "Last night you were ready to kneel by my feet and do anything I asked. What's changed?"
"You have. You made it perfectly clear you made a mistake by being with me. That changes everything." Tony didn't drop his gaze, and Gibbs couldn't help but admire the steel in his tone, despite the defiance in it. "And I'm not wearing that."
Before Tony could move a muscle, Gibbs flipped him around and hooked the cuffs on his wrists together behind his back, eliciting a startled protest from the younger man.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Gibbs picked up the Gates of Hell and the cock ring, settling them in place with barely a glance at his subordinate.
"I'm making sure Steve doesn't get a chance to rape you the next time you run that smart-ass mouth of yours." He finished snapping the device on Tony's cock and balls and reached for the butt plug. With a firm hand he pushed Tony over the bed so his ass was raised in the air. "You must have noticed the way he looks at you – like he can't decide if he wants to beat you with his fists or with his dick."
Tony was squirming to move away, but Gibbs used a hand to hold him flat.
"I don't care!" Tony protested. "What the hell gives you the right to do this to me?"
Gibbs smacked Tony's ass, leaving a red imprint. "Hold still! I'm doing what any good Dom would for his sub; I'm taking care of you when you don't have the sense to do it yourself!"
Tony tried to rise up but Gibbs shoved his head into the mattress. "You aren't my Dom, remember? So quit acting like it! If you don't want to fuck my ass then you sure as hell don't need to stick anything else in it!"
Gibbs pushed Tony's legs apart with his own thighs and drizzled lube all over the butt plug, letting it drip over Tony's hole. "Push back and relax."
With a deft touch he eased the plug inside Tony, trying to ignore how his own dick got hard when Tony clenched and gasped around the black rubber. Memories of last night flooded his vision and he pushed them away. He seated the plug and then proceeded to add the straps and waist belt. At this point Tony had stopped struggling, his hazel eyes blinking rapidly while his chest shuddered up and down from the exertion. Gibbs pulled a small padlock from his pocket and snapped it in place, ensuring the device could not be removed by anybody but him. He dangled the small key in front of Tony before dropping it in his pocket.
Tony's eyes blazed, anger winning the battle over arousal. "Bastard," Tony snarled.
"And don't you forget it," Gibbs agreed harshly. Sometimes, being a bastard was all a man had to offer the ones he loved, no matter how much it hurt to do.
NCISNCISNCIS
Rick sat down behind the desk in the communications building and picked up the phone. "So what do you have for me?"
"I've just lined up another potential buyer for the auction. She's looking for one of your types, a hard nosed cop or ex-marine to take down. Just letting you know so you can have something ready for her."
The slave trader smiled pleasantly. He was sure that DiNozzo would bring a good price from Nakamura, and he had at least four other prime pieces of flesh to market besides him, even with the fiasco that had happened with Mark. If he was lucky, this new buyer might even bid against Nakamura, driving the NCIS agent's price higher than he'd anticipated.
"Does she have the right kind of cash for this type of transaction?" He wanted to make sure she'd been vetted before getting his hopes up.
The man on the other end of the phone chuckled. "Her family is loaded; she came into an inheritance a few years back. I don't think money will be an issue. You have something appealing and I guarantee she'll buy."
The image of the island paradise Rick planned to purchase became a little bit clearer. "I'll make sure you get the usual finder's fee. I'll see you at the auction."
Rick hung up the phone; he couldn't believe how everything was falling into place. If the business kept growing at this rate by next year he would have enough money stashed away to disappear for good. He could still train a few slaves for market, but nothing on the scale they were working now. It would finally be time to relax and take it easy.
Stepping outside, he practically walked right into Josh, who was hurrying past with his head down, not paying any attention to what he was doing.
"Oh, sorry," the younger man apologized quickly, skirting around him.
"Slow down, Josh. Where are you headed in such a hurry?"
His nephew made a nervous gesture with his hand. "Nowhere – um breakfast."
Rick frowned, wondering about the kid's agitation. When he'd let the boy come up here he had hoped to nurture him into someone who could play a more pivotal role in the operation; unfortunately it was becoming more and more obvious that his sister's son didn't have much of a knack for the work. And now the kid had witnessed a death at their hands. It wouldn't be good for him to have a chance to go back home and reveal what he'd seen. Not good at all.
"I'll walk with you," Rick offered. He was going to have to keep a close eye on Josh and give some careful consideration about what to do with him before the start of the next semester of college.
NCISNCISNCIS
Ziva took one last look in the mirrored compact before sliding it into the tiny purse at her side. Her lips were bright red, the outrageous color accentuating the rest of the outfit that Abby had painstakingly helped her put together. Her skirt was skin-tight black leather and very short paired with a low-cut lacy top that was nearly see-through. The ensemble was finished off with thigh-high black leather boots with stiletto heels that could have been registered as deadly weapons. Long gold earrings dangled from her ears, all the more noticeable because her thick curly hair was piled high on top of her head in a loose bun, soft tendrils hung seductively down her exposed back.
She stepped from the car and handed her keys to a valet, striding into the club without a second glance at the individuals who stopped in their tracks to stare at her. Inside she made her way through the dimly lit interior to a small table in the back where she sat down to wait.
A waiter in a loincloth brought her a drink she did not order as compliments of the house. She sipped the cocktail carefully, deciding there was little chance she would be poisoned. Yet.
Ziva adjusted one of the earrings, ensuring the miniscule camera hidden inside was positioned accurately to have a clear view of the man she was scheduled to meet. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long. With a broad smile she greeted the tall, well-dressed man who approached her table.
"Ms. Hadar," he acknowledged, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "I'm thrilled to see you again."
"Likewise. Will you join me?" She gestured at the seat across from her.
"Thank you." He sat down and crossed his legs, tossing a hand casually across the back of the booth before flashing a toothy grin.
He had a slimy, used car salesman vibe that she did not like. Perhaps before the case was resolved she would find an opportunity to plant the heel of her hand into his nose. He was a slave dealer, and he made a living by subjugating other people, forcing them to lead lives they would never have chosen on their own.
The man smiled and leaned forward. "I think I have the perfect opportunity for you."
She forced herself to smile back, but inside her gut twisted into a tight knot. She hated him.
They discussed the auction and the amount of money required to secure a position in the bidding. Ziva provided a bank account number that she knew would have enough funds to cover the exorbitant fee. He called someone, read out the numbers, and waited for a response. Ziva continued to sip her drink and exude an aura of boredom with the entire procedure.
With another cheesy grin, the contact shut his phone and announced that she had been cleared to attend. Other particulars were reviewed, including how she would gain entry into the auction site.
"Someone will pick you up," he explained. "You will be taken to the airport and flown to our location. Another car will transport you to the venue and bring you back."
"What day and time?" she asked. "I will need to make plans to be out of town."
The man frowned, no longer joking around. "It will be one day next week; I can't get any more specific. Someone will call several hours in advance. You have to understand the need for secrecy – we cannot take any chance on our enterprise being discovered."
"I do not like having to place so much trust in those I do not know."
The slave trader shook his head. "Take the terms or forget it. This part of the game is non-negotiable."
Ziva drew in a deep breath and stopped arguing. "Fine."
"Wonderful!" he sat up straighter. "Do not forget that if you make a purchase arrangements must be made to take the slave out of the country immediately. We don't want to have them returning anywhere in the continental United States. It's too dangerous."
"I will take care of it," Ziva responded.
"Good." Her contact checked his watch. "I have a few more clients to meet tonight – of course none as beautiful as you. I'll be in touch."
She silently nodded at his departure, watching as he maneuvered through the crowd and found a stool at the bar. Finishing her drink, Ziva spent a few minutes observing the patrons of the club. Her attention was drawn to a couple on the far side of the room; the man sat quietly with his head in his mistresses lap as she stroked her fingers lightly through his thick brown hair. The spiky locks reminded her of Tony, and a pang of melancholy filled her unexpectedly. She had not been caught off guard by the feeling in a long time, since her first few years at NCIS, when just looking at Tony across the bullpen had sometimes taken her breath away. She had sectioned those emotions off, building a wall to hide them from everyone, including herself. She had accepted that there would never be anything between the two of them beyond friendship; it was easier that way. Even some of her bitterness at his cavalier attitude toward her had faded, and it made it possible for her to approach him with more kindness and affection than she had been able to achieve for many years. She wondered if he was being mistreated, and it made her ache, for Tony – her Tony – was like a puppy that never deserved abuse or neglect. In her heart she knew Gibbs was with him, making sure he was alright. The thought of them together brought her an odd sense of comfort.
After enough time had passed to not make her absence look curious, Ziva stood and worked her way across the room toward the exit.
It was just before she walked out the door that the entire operation unexpectedly came crashing down around her.
Nakamura strode into the room, nearly walking right into her. Instinctively Ziva backed away, but not before her eyes darted up to see his face. It took a few seconds, but she knew when recognition hit him and his features revealed the knowledge.
"You," he spit out. "You're one of them; I saw you at the NCIS office. What are you doing here?"
Ziva did her best to cover her surprise. "I have no idea what you are talking about." She ducked her head and edged around the small man who turned to follow her.
She scurried out into the cool night air as quickly as possible, the intense stare of Nakamura never leaving her until she was completely out of sight. Within seconds a car pulled up to the curb and she jumped inside, barely settling into the seat before they were moving.
She curled her hand into a fist, unable to meet the gazes of her colleagues. "Damnit," she cursed, striking her own leg in frustration. The entire operation was likely blown, and with it their only chance of finding Gibbs and Tony.
NCISNCISNCIS
The day had unfolded like most of the others. They had breakfast, exercised, rested, and ate lunch. Now Gibbs was putting him through his paces, reviewing every position he was expected to assume as a docile and compliant sex slave.
He was barely able to make himself obey; if it had been anyone other than Gibbs giving the commands he would have fought like a caged tiger desperate to escape – the consequences be damned. But it was Gibbs, and even though his feelings regarding his boss were conflicted at the moment, it didn't change what seemed to be written into his genetic code. He followed Gibbs' orders like he always had.
Gibbs must have sensed the level of self-control it was requiring for him to react like it was natural for him to stand at attention with his arms behind his back, bend at the waist and grab his ankles, lean over a piece of furniture, or kneel with his forehead pressed to the floor. Of course Gibbs knew, he was Gibbs and he knew everything. That didn't mean that he gave Tony a break. Gibbs was as difficult a taskmaster as any of the Doms around him would expect.
Occasionally, Gibbs would give him a look that was a combination of dominant expectation and mild amusement that set his cock straining against its leather confines. The reaction made him want to scream; he was mad at Gibbs and had no intention of forgiving him any time soon, so his dick needed to get on board with his indifference and give up any hope of repeating last night. He still couldn't believe Gibbs had utterly dismissed their lovemaking like it was a huge mistake. Tony was aware enough of his own mind to know what he wanted. When they got back to their room this evening he had every intention of setting Gibbs straight and he wouldn't shut up until the older man listened.
Gibbs tapped his knees with a riding crop. "Farther apart," he drawled. Tony forced himself not to scowl at the order, instead moving his legs until they were past shoulder width apart. His hands rested on the wall, and he had his chin tilted down until it nearly touched his chest. He could see the glitter of the nipple ring glinting below him.
Unexpected rage flowed over him. What right did these people have to bring him here? What right did they have to force him to bend to their every whim? Just because they were dominant and he was submissive? Did they think he enjoyed being forced to do things against his will?
Suddenly Gibbs was near, breathing in his ear, his hard lean body pressed against Tony's back. "Stop fighting."
Tony bit his lip so hard he wondered if he'd drawn blood. How could he stop fighting? He stopped fighting last night, and all it had gotten him was a kick in the teeth. He'd been fighting his whole life in one way or another, and there was no way he could stop now. Maybe Gibbs didn't know him so well after all.
Gentle but firm hands traced the contours of the muscles in his arms.
"All this thinking isn't going to get you anywhere." A hand caressed the small of his back, trailed over his ass. Tony was almost glad for the chastity device; he figured there was no way he wouldn't have embarrassed himself with a raging hard on without it.
Steve entered their proximity. "I hate to admit it, but you have a way with pretty boy. I don't know how you do it."
Gibbs squeezed Tony's flesh, giving him a warning to cut off whatever reply was already forming in his throat. Tony bit his lip again and tried to let the words flow around him like water in a stream.
When Gibbs didn't respond Steve tilted his head. "He'll be going to auction next week and I guess you'll have to find another project. Just so you know, I always give each of our boys a nice going away present to remember me by; I don't plan to make an exception with this one." He let his cold dark eyes drift over Tony's body, pausing on his upturned ass. "Trust me; I plan on making it a night he won't forget." With one last leer he walked away.
Tony let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
Gibbs' face was impassive as granite; his hold on Tony's arm tightened possessively. "I'll die before I ever let him touch you."
The ferocity of Gibbs' words shocked Tony. The statement was a vow, a promise that Tony had no doubt the older man intended to keep. Fear gripped him with its skeletal fingers leaving an icy brand on his heart. His anger at Gibbs dissipated like early morning fog; he didn't pretend to understand his boss' reaction to their relationship, but he wouldn't let Gibbs die for him. Living with that kind of guilt wouldn't be a life at all.
There was so much he wanted to say. "Boss…." He broached tentatively.
Gibbs blinked, almost like awakening from a dream. He stroked Tony absently. "Don't break position," he said flatly.
"But…."
"No. I'll take care of this – we'll talk about it later tonight. Now stand up straight and we'll go through all the positions again. You get a whack for every one you forget."
Tony sighed. This was ridiculous. They planned on escaping; there was no need for Gibbs to take this training so seriously. Now that Steve had thrown down the gauntlet, it was even more imperative for them to make a break for it quickly, before Gibbs did anything rash.
His boss tried to act like he was the impetuous one who needed constant supervision, but it wasn't like Gibbs didn't have his own history of impulsive acts that had nearly led to his destruction. Tony's brain switched to auto-pilot while he followed Gibbs' commands; a sting on his backside brought him back to reality.
"Hey!"
"Pay attention, don't zone out."
Tony really wasn't in a submissive mind set right now. He opened his mouth to protest further until he noticed Steve observing them from a spot next to the St. Andrew's Cross. Tony sensed the brutish ogre was just waiting for him to melt down again and provide an opportunity to punish him. Well he certainly wasn't going to let that happen. With a clench of his jaw he swallowed his words and went back to doing as told. He wouldn't let his temper make the situation worse.
The door opened and Rick walked in, leaning down to have a whispered conversation with his partner. Steve's eyes widened and he said something quickly; Tony wished he'd learned to read lips so he could figure out what they were talking about with such ferocity. The two of them disappeared through the doorway, furrowed brows and tight shoulders indicating that their discussion was not entirely pleasant. Tony wondered if Josh could find out what it was all about and tell them later.
With any luck, whatever had them riled up wouldn't matter. Maybe in just a few more days he and Gibbs would be gone.
NCISNCISNCIS
"What the hell happened in there? Fornell demanded, his tiny round eyes narrowed on the young woman in the seat across from him. She shifted in frustration, tugging off the heavy gold earrings that contained the miniscule camera Abby had so carefully prepared for the assignment.
"You were watching; you know exactly what happened," she responded evenly, only her short, choppy movements giving away the fact she was angry. "I was identified."
"Do you think he knew who you were?" Sacks asked.
Ziva's dark brown eyes flashed, her temper flaring like a strike of lightening. "Maybe you were not listening, or you are simply dense. Yes, he knew who I was – he must have seen me when he came to NCIS to complain about Gibbs." She moved her shadowed gaze back to Fornell. "What do we do now?"
Fornell rubbed the top of his head; nothing seemed to go right on this case. They couldn't get a break for anything. "We wait, see if your contact calls. Maybe we'll get lucky and Nakamura won't say anything."
McGee sat up straight, inserting himself in the conversation for the first time. "Are you serious? The only person who talks more than Nakamura is Tony. He'll blab Ziva's identity to anyone who'll listen."
Fornell wished the kid would shut up; he was right of course, but it wasn't like the FBI agent wanted to acknowledge the reality of this latest fuck up. It meant that their one best chance to get to DiNozzo, and probably Gibbs, was gone and their slim chances of finding their friends had dropped to nothing.
"Is that it?" McGee pressed. "We just sit around and hope someone gets in touch?" He shook his head, and clenched his fist; for a minute Fornell thought he was about to punch something. "Gibbs and Tony wouldn't give up, that's for damn sure."
Fornell felt like he'd been hit in the gut. The kid was right again; neither one of the agents they were so worked up about finding would have ever stopped no matter what. Gibbs took the whole marine "never leave a man behind" motto to a level of sacred creed. And DiNozzo was nearly as bad, having modeled his every belief around those of his mentor.
McGee glared at him insolently, his normally soft features drawn and tight. Fornell realized why Gibbs kept the boy on his team; he really did have a dogmatic loyalty to his partners and his amiable attitude disappeared when they were threatened. Funny how sometimes you can see someone over and over and never really see them at all.
He cleared his throat and tried to focus his thoughts. "Tell me we have a tail on Nakamura."
"Of course we do," McGee offered. "We're tracking every move he makes. I"ll get Abby to pull up the information." He got out his phone and dialed.
Ziva had pursed her lips together like she'd been sucking on a lemon. "Do you think he will contact the people who took Tony?"
"It's possible," Fornell answered. "It's best to watch him; if our contact is lost he's our only hope left."
McGee hung up. "Abby's tracing him but right now he's still at the club. She'll alert us when he goes anywhere. We also have two agents parked outside ready to follow him."
Fornell let his fingers trace the leather seat of the limo. It was a good thing that sometimes cases allowed him to indulge in these kinds of luxuries or he'd never get to experience them. Too little pay; too much alimony. Focus, Fornell. This is Gibbs' life you're playing around with. The weight of that knowledge was a lot to bear. "What about his phone?"
"I can access that information when we get back to the office," McGee said, unable to hide the tension in his voice. He was practically bouncing in his seat, waiting to get back and do something. Fornell knew how he felt; he wondered if the young agent had anyone to lean on when the cases were too much, when the stress pushed him over the edge. He'd never heard any of them mention that Tim had a significant other. It would be so nice to have someone to unwind with, to share the burdens that came with knowing just how shitty life could be.
He pushed a button for the intercom. "Get us back to NCIS and make it fast."
Settling into the buttery soft seat he tried to accept the fact their best lead was for all intents and purposes gone. It didn't mean they had to give up hope, but it certainly meant everything got harder now.
Maybe it was time to join Abby in a voodoo spell after all.
NCISNCISNCIS
The evening had passed by much like the morning; everything went according to routine, with no surprises or unexpected events. They ate dinner, Tony being handfed by Gibbs while seated in the floor. The only unusual element was the fact Gibbs hadn't released Tony's leash at any point in the meal; his boss had the end wrapped around his hand leaving Tony only a short amount of movement in any direction. He guessed Gibbs was sending a not so subtle message to Steve about who was in charge of him. Now that Tony was being honest with himself, he had to admit he kind of liked the show of dominance.
He wasn't really hungry, his unsettled stomach a reflection of his disquieted mind. The act of eating from Gibbs' fingers helped calm him, and he accepted it as another sign that he really was submissive. It was amazing how he'd ignored the signals for so long.
He was so grateful that Gibbs had shown up here to rescue him. The sacrifices his boss had made, the risks he had taken were not lost on Tony. The forced closeness and the intensity of their interactions had clarified his confused feelings about Gibbs, but his boss seemed to be caught up in a pointless sea of guilt. He had to convince Gibbs that his submissiveness was real and he wasn't suffering from some form of Stockholm Syndrome. It concerned him that Gibbs had gone back to being all business, barely saying two words to Tony that weren't absolutely necessary.
It made no sense. He knew what the two of them had shared had been real; how could Gibbs misinterpret it so completely? It explained a lot about those failed relationships. Shannon must have been one hell of a woman.
"Hey." The word caught his attention because it sounded like a command he shouldn't ignore; he felt a tug on his leash that nudged him closer to Gibbs. He snapped back to reality to see a carrot held out in front of him. God, he hated carrots, but he opened his mouth anyway. He'd tried to refuse the garden of vegetables Gibbs had been feeding him, but the glare that had resulted was so scathing Tony decided to save his energy for other battles. Glancing down at his lean stomach, he had to admit the strict diet and regular exercise had resulted in a cut and toned physique he hadn't seen in years. He supposed that brought a higher price at auction.
He considered what it would be like if he actually was taken to the auction. Would they slather him in oil and lead him naked on a stage in front of a roomful of strangers? Would he be made to kneel, bend over, or let strangers touch him? The thought made him shudder. He'd never been a shy man, which anyone who knew him would testify to, and attention – any kind of attention – was usually quite alright in his book. But there was something about the idea of being paraded in front of people who wanted to own and possess him that made him physically sick. Despite all the time he'd spent here, it didn't touch the surface of the fear he had about actually being bought by another human being. At least here, with Gibbs, he felt a modicum of control.
Looking up he saw Gibbs watching him steadily. Their gazes locked, and Tony felt like a spider caught in a web; he could not look away. Even without a dime changing hands, he belonged to Gibbs, and it was ridiculous to fight it. Rick could sell him a thousand times, and it wouldn't matter, nothing would change. Gibbs' name was written on his soul, and it would always be that way, regardless of what happened in their lives.
To his surprise, Gibbs blinked first, his stony blue eyes dropping away to focus on his lap. There was a flush on Gibbs' cheeks, and Tony couldn't understand his uncompromising boss' sudden awkwardness. He could see a vein in Gibbs' neck pulsing hard, revealing the intensity of his heartbeat. A muscle bunched in his jaw. Nostrils flared. Fists clenched beneath the table. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Gibbs was fighting with the power of his emotions.
When Gibbs broke the stalemate by lifting another vegetable to his mouth, Tony sucked the tips of the calloused fingers longer than necessary, kissing them softly. Gibbs' eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth twitched while he let Tony lick and nibble his fingers. Gibbs finally moved his hand away, and Tony tried to ignore the way his cock jerked futilely.
The entire dinner continued as an exercise in thinly veiled tension. Rick and Steve barely spoke, both men strangely ruminating and silent. The other slave trainers followed their lead, not sure why, but maintaining the unwillingness to engage in conversation. Josh practically squirmed in his seat, barely able to keep from bursting out with ill-timed questions.
Just when it looked like the boy was not going to be able hold his tongue any longer, Rick raised his head and let his grey gaze drift around the table. He sat his fork down and laced his fingers together. "We are going to have a visitor tomorrow."
Heads snapped up, giving him undivided attention.
"One of our best customers wants to come up for a preview of the merchandise and I have agreed to accommodate his request. If all goes well, I could anticipate this adding quite a bit of profit on any upcoming sales to this individual."
Steve picked at a piece of bread, dropping flaky layers of crust on his plate. He lifted his eyes to Tony and his mouth twisted up in a wicked grin.
Shit.
Gibbs maintained his unreadable expression, although his fists stayed balled up in white knuckled anxiety under the table. Tony realized why he never played poker with the man.
Josh, of course, asked the question everyone else wanted answered.
"Who is it?"
Rick thinned his lips. "You don't need to worry about that; a client is a client. Everyone needs to be prepared for him to request time with any of the slaves you are training. No request is to be denied." He let his eyes rest on Gibbs, making his meaning very clear; it would not be wise for Leroy Jackson to prevent his boy from participating. "When he leaves here he'll see that he can't live without owning one of our boys."
Tony's stomach rolled over. He had a sinking feeling that this visit was not going to be one he would remember fondly. Gibbs shot a gaze at him out of the corner of his eyes and tugged the leash; Tony scooted closer until he leaned against Gibbs' muscled thigh. He found the contact calmed the racing of his heart.
The stakes rose again, and he wished like hell he and Gibbs could fold their cards and walk away.
Unfortunately they had already made their ante, and in this game the only option was to play out their hand and hope they could bluff their way through for a little while longer with a pretty shitty hand.