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Chapter Three.

Sighing, Jethro watched yet another car drive by. It had turned dark about an hour ago and while he had admittedly enjoyed watching the sun go down earlier, he wasn't quite comfortable just sitting in his truck. He had no idea why he didn't just get out and walk the couple of steps or why he didn't just drive away. He knew that it didn't make any sense to go back into that bar, but it didn't make much sense going home now, either. But simply sitting there in his truck, brooding over something that had kept him up all night made even less sense. It wasn't like he was sleeping particularly well these days, that was if he didn't count the alcohol-induced passing-out, but last night, he had been turning and tossing in bed until he had given up on sleep and had gone down into the kitchen to brew himself some coffee. He had basically spent the rest of the night and most of the following morning staring at the walls, not knowing what to do with himself. He had ignored the angry blinking light of the answering machine as he was not interested to listen to Mike Franks' angry scolding because he hadn't turned up at NIS the other day.

Though, he wasn't quite sure what had made him drive over to the bar, he hoped that his restlessness would pass with a couple of beers or bourbons inside of him. He had told himself that it was the only reason to come here, that he needed the alcohol, even though he knew deep down that he was probably fooling himself. He could have had a beer back in his neighborhood or hell, even in his own house, but there would have been no smartass barkeeper to keep him company.

Internally resigning, Jethro finally got out of the truck and then made his way towards his destination. It had gotten fairly late by now and he could see a couple of guests scattered around the bar. He sat down at his usual barstool and looked around for a moment, feeling his heart sink ever so slightly as he realized that Tony wasn't there tonight. Instead, there was an older man standing behind the counter, looking grimly back at him. Jethro ordered a glass of bourbon anyway, but felt more pathetic than he usually did. Had he really driven all the way for a guy he hardly even knew? And why was he so strangely disappointed that the kid wasn't there now? He really didn't know. Granted, Tony had been easy to talk to, had taken his mind off of things for a couple of hours, but had that really been enough for Jethro to want to come back and talk to him? It didn't make any sense. But maybe, and a corner of Jethro's mind was willing to admit it, it was the fact that Tony had been the only one who had talked to him like a normal person. He hadn't pushed him to talk, hadn't given him a sad smile and hadn't scolded him for drinking (only for driving afterwards). Nobody hadn't done any of these things in a very long time and Jethro realized only now that it was because the kid simply didn't know. He didn't know him, didn't know his past, didn't know about his girls and didn't know shit about anything. Maybe that was simply it.

Just as Jethro downed his bourbon in one big gulp and was about to pay for the drink and go home, someone sat down next to him, softly bumping his shoulder in the course. Jethro wanted to turn around and glare at the man for being clumsy when he realized that it was none other than Tony himself who was grinning widely back at him.

"Hey there, sailor," the kid said, then waved at the barkeeper and held up two fingers.

Jethro just stared at him before he nodded ever so slightly. For all his brooding over the fact that he wanted to talk to the man again, he had astonishingly little to say. So, he just continued to watch the younger man until the bartender placed two glasses of bourbon in front of them.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" the grumpy old man said. "It's your day off."

"Wasn't planning on coming in, but I thought I'd talk to Ben here for a couple of minutes."

The barkeep grunted and then disappeared towards a couple of other customers, leaving Jethro sitting there, staring at the glass in front of him.

"How did you know I was here?" he finally asked as they chinked their glasses.

Tony just grinned again before he took a sip and made a face.

"How do you drink that stuff?" he asked, shaking himself. "And I saw your truck out front. Thought maybe you wanted some company."

"How do you know what car I drive?"

"Had your keys, remember?" Tony laughed, once again bumping his shoulder against Jethro's. "Wasn't that hard to figure out it was you."

Jethro just nodded again at a loss for something to say. Tony, however, didn't seem to have that kind of problem. He just kept on grinning at him as he told him a story about today's barkeeper who turned out to be Tony's boss and owner of the bar. Tony didn't seem to like him very much, but then again, the man didn't seem like a very likeable person in general. Jethro listened patiently to Tony's tale about how he got hired, nodding at the right time whenever Tony was looking at him expectantly. He didn't really listen, but it was nice to know that someone at least didn't mind talking to him. After a while, Jethro ordered a new round of drinks and later another one. He let Tony's chatter wash over him and felt slightly warmer inside due to the alcohol. He had no idea why the younger man was being so nice to him and even seemed to enjoy their talk. It wasn't like Jethro had gotten more than a few words in, but Tony didn't seem to mind at all. He just kept on smiling at him, his eyes sparkling with something that Jethro couldn't help but classify as youthful mischief.

Quite a while later, Jethro let out a laugh at Tony's awful attempt of imitating Sean Connery's accent in one of the Bond movies, but then fell silent abruptly as Tony leaned towards him ever so slightly, with one hand gripping the edge of the counter and the other one finding its way to Jethro's thigh. He felt himself stiffen up at the unexpected contact, but Tony just looked at him steadily as if challenging him. Jethro wanted to shake him off, wanted to tell him off and leave, but somehow he wasn't able to say the words. So, he just stared back at the younger man, waiting for something to happen. It never did, though. Instead, Tony blinked once and then leaned back again, telling his boss to get them another round.

"I feel like I've been talking all night," he finally turned to look at him again. "So, what's your story?"

"My story?" Jethro checked back. "Nothing much to tell," he lied. "Was a Marine, now I'm not. That's about it."

"Nuh-uh," Tony grinned again. "I can tell there's much more to you than that. I mean from what I know, you have a dreadful taste in clothes, but you just don't give a shit about it. Judging by the way you're sitting there all stiff and always make sure the glass is set at the exact same spot, you probably loved being a Marine because I think you like your life organized. Also, I know you're not married or at least you're not wearing a wedding band. I'm guessing you're probably divorced because I doubt that a guy like you couldn't get the girl."

Jethro stared at him for a couple of moments, trying to keep the hurt that welled up inside of him in check. The kid certainly was a good observer, had hit the nail right on the head with his guesses. Well, except for the one thing that caused Jethro to sit back ever so slightly now, trying to shake off the feeling of loneliness.

"Not divorced," he finally replied tight-lipped, staring at his left hand where the ring had used to sit for the last couple of years before he had gotten rid of it because it had torn his heart apart every time he had just looked at it.

"Huh," Tony just said, watching him closely, but didn't elaborate. "But three out of four is pretty good, don't you think?"

"Guess so," Jethro just answered, sipping from his drink and he was just about to order another one as the bartender walked up towards them, shouting out the last call.

Slightly irritated as to why the man would close down his bar so early, Jethro glanced at his watch and realized that it was already long after one o'clock. When had that happened? Hadn't Tony just sat down next to him like an hour ago? Briefly shaking his head, he reached for his wallet, fully intending to pay both his and Tony's drinks as he saw the younger man shake his head next to him.

"You don't have to pay. It's on me and therefore on the house. Trust me, I won't have to pay for them."

"You sure?"

"Yup," Tony gave him that grin again before he jumped off his barstool gracefully and put a hand on Jethro's shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here."

The older man looked up from where Tony's hand rested on his shoulder to the younger man's face, saw the radiant smile on his lips and then felt himself nod. Tony waved at his boss, who just nodded, and then left the bar with Jethro trailing behind. Once outside, Jethro took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts for a moment as the fresh air made his head spin for a moment. Tony, apparently, had the exact same problem because he was now leaning against Jethro's truck, his eyes closed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.

"Jeez," he laughed after a moment. "That bourbon stuff is horrible. Didn't realize how drunk I was."

Jethro just snorted and then walked over to stand next to the younger man. He breathed in the aftershave, the slight tint of what he thought was hazelnut and the remains of the bourbon that still lingered on the kid. It was only when Tony turned to look at him that Jethro realized just how close they were. The younger man, however, didn't seem the least surprised, just stared back at him, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

"So," he finally said, dragging out the word. "What's the plan?"

"Plan for what?" Jethro asked, suddenly unable to look away from those green eyes.

"What do you want to do now?" Tony answered slowly as if he was talking to a small child.

Jethro remained silent for a moment, trying to figure out what he actually wanted to do. He wasn't keen on going to another bar because he knew he had had enough to drink for now, but he certainly didn't want to leave Tony now, either.

"Don't know," he finally replied gruffly, not bothering to indulge in his thoughts for too long.

"I'd suggest another bar, but it's already pretty late and I'm not so sure I can drink much more," Tony said, laughing once again. "So that leaves us with two other options if you're up for it."

Jethro just nodded as he watched the kid inch towards him.

"One, we say goodbye to each other and each of us goes home. Via taxi, might I add. Two, we go to your place and… I don't know… do whatever it is you do there."

"No," Jethro all but cried out, suddenly scared out of his daze by the prospect of taking Tony home with him. "Not my house."

Tony remained silent at that, but backed up ever so slightly. The former warm eyes had suddenly changed, and the green in them had become somewhat darker.

"Should have known it when you said you weren't divorced," he spat out, the warmth in his voice suddenly vanished just like the one in his eyes. "Where does your wife think you are?"

"What?" Jethro all but spluttered, having not anticipated that kind of reaction. "No, there's no wife."

"Then why did you jump when I mentioned your house?" Tony asked curiously now, apparently somewhat appeased for the moment.

Jethro took his time to answer, trying once again to swallow the hurt and loneliness. He couldn't possibly invite the kid over into his house and not only because the kid would find out his true identity. He simply couldn't let him sit on the couch where he and Shannon used to cuddle up watching a movie, he couldn't let him sit on the chairs in the kitchen where Kelly used to draw pictures of her family and he certainly couldn't let him walk down into the basement to look at the unfinished boat that stood there. Hell, even Jethro himself hadn't been down there since he had gotten the message of his girls' deaths. There simply wasn't a way he could let the kid in like that, not when he barely knew him, not when he didn't even know what the hell he even expected from him.

"We can't go there," he finally said bitterly but decisively, letting him know there was no way they'd go there tonight.

"Okay," Tony said slowly, giving him a speculative look, but didn't press for an answer and Jethro immediately felt a bit better. "We can't go back to my place, either. I mean, I got my own room and all, but I'm not exactly keen on explaining to my friends why I've brought you over and won't hang with them instead."

Jethro stared at him, trying to figure out why it was so unthinkable for the kid to bring over a friend for a drink. Was it because he was older or did Tony simply never invite anyone over? And why couldn't they just hang with those friends? Jethro tried to read Tony's expression as he was gazing intently at him for the moment. They locked eyes and Jethro felt Tony inch closer more than he actually saw it. It was when the scales fell from his eyes. Tony touching his thigh, his shoulder, the small talk, paying for his drinks and now standing so close to him…

"We could still go to a hotel or something if you wanted," the kid interrupted his moment of epiphanic realizations, instantly making it obvious to Jethro that he hadn't misinterpreted the younger man's intentions.

"Oh," he finally said. "You meant…"

"Yeah," Tony laughed, throwing up his hands in mock exasperation. "I thought it was obvious," he then continued slightly calmer than before as he gave Jethro an once-over.

Jethro just stared back at him, unsure of what to say. All night, he hadn't realized what Tony had wanted from him. Granted, he had wondered why he would bother talking to him, but it had never occurred to him that the kid was out for sex or whatever. Now, though, that he knew, Jethro had no clue what to do. He wasn't gay that was for sure, had never even looked at a guy twice and he certainly wasn't ready to betray Shannon like that. But would it really be like that? Tony most certainly wasn't a woman, he was, however, most certainly interested in him and Jethro realized with quite some shock that he wasn't as opposed to it as he had thought he would be. But would he really do it? Or rather, could he really do it?

"Apparently not so obvious," Tony sighed, once again giving him a slight smile. "That's a no, I suppose?"

"No," Jethro blurted out before he could stop himself. "It's not a no."

"Alright," Tony let out a laugh, surprise suddenly written all over his face. "Why the face, then?"

Jethro subtly shook his head as he consciously tried to keep his insecurity from showing on his face. He wouldn't let the kid know that he was all but sure about this. He had never walked away from a challenge before and certainly wasn't going to start now.

"Just surprised," he finally said, his voice sounding surer than he felt. "So, uh, where to?"

"Oh, I just know the place," Tony leaned closer, so close in fact that Jethro was able to smell his breath. "And don't worry, we'll have a couple more drinks. Loosen you up a bit, you know."

"Okay," Jethro just said and then followed the younger man, not knowing what the hell he was doing, not knowing what he had to expect and certainly not knowing why in the world he wanted to stay close to Tony.