CHAPTER 3

I'll Take Love
~Elvis song

Some people think that pot of gold
Is all they ever want to hold
But there's a treasure, I think more of
Measure for measure. . .I'll take love

As they sped down the highway on the way to Las Vegas, Tony called McGee and got details of the latest developments in the case.

McGee relayed the information that the paid killer's name was Jerome Sax. "FBI lifted a thumbprint off his body. Jerome Sax lived in Oregon. Had a wife and two kids. Wife thought he was a factory rep who traveled out of town on company business. So far, ballistics tie him to four unsolved murders. We think there'll be more." McGee also let Tony know that Director Vance had arranged for the local sheriff to interview Jerome Sax's wife, so they didn't have to go to Oregon.

"Gibbs won't like that," Tony said quietly to McGee, even though Gibbs was sitting right next to him and could hear his side of the conversation. "Tell me, Probie, this Sax, he was a churchgoing man, belonged to the Masons, and was a Boy Scout leader?"

"A deacon of his church, yeah. How'd you know?"

Tony smiled in satisfaction. "I'm a trained investigator. Besides, it's like with serial killers. People who encounter them every day are under the impression they're upstanding citizens. You know: 'Gosh, Officer, we never had any idea he had all those bodies buried in his basement. He sang in the choir.' It's part of the thrill, being able to pull the wool over all the little sheep's eyes."

McGee gave Tony an address in downtown Las Vegas, and said, "The wife told the FBI agent that her husband used the Vegas condo for business only. She's never been there."

"Business only? That's a good one," Tony said with a grin. "So Mr. Sax, upright citizen by day, paid assassin for Sunset Mining by night, liked some action, did he? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink."

"Well, if he did, that's the place to be," McGee agreed. "Maybe Sax was connected. He might have been bankrolled by someone in Vegas. Also, our agents stopped the CEO of Sunset Mining at LAX, just as he was boarding a flight to Mexico. He is currently being questioned by our agents there. Before the CEO lawyered up, he admitted they hired Sax for this one job, but only to keep claim jumpers away."

"Find out if Sax liked gambling; Vegas is a good place to launder ill-gotten gains. I'll bet he has a nice fat bank account somewhere offshore," Tony said, pondering aloud as to whether the man's money would have been banked in the Caymans or Switzerland.

Gibbs looked sideways at Tony. "Enough guessing. Stick to the facts," he said. Raising his voice, he added, "McGee, follow the money."

McGee acknowledged that he'd heard Gibbs. "Got it, Boss!"

Gibbs barked, "Follow up on the interviews in Oregon and L.A., and I want the reports, and any evidence, on my desk by the time we get back."

Tony asked, "You hear that McFollowUp? I'll call you as soon as we check out Sax's condo. It'll be in about five hours…" Tony glanced at the speedometer and said to McGee, "Uh, change that to three hours, at the rate we're going."

McGee chuckled. "Too bad you'll be whizzing by all the sights. Old mining towns, the turtle sanctuary…There's a place that makes the best ribs in Wikieup, the Joshua tree forest, and of course, the Hoover Dam…"

"We stopping at the Hoover Dam?" Tony took in Gibbs' set expression, so he reported to McGee, "Looks like I'd better not blink when we go across the dam. It's straight to Las Vegas!"

McGee said, "Just watch yourself at the tables. We both know how much you like sparkly things. And no counting cards, or you'll get your kneecaps broken."

"Gee, thanks. Only this isn't Rain Man," Tony retorted. "Or The Hangover."

"No drinking on the job, DiNozzo," Gibbs added, apparently able to hear the entire conversation.

"Oh no, The Hangover's the name of a movie, Boss," Tony said. Gibbs ignored him.

McGee asked, "Lost in America?"

"Oooh, I know! Casino! DeNiro, and Sharon Stone, so tall, cool and blond," Tony said with a sigh. "Until she had a thing going with cocaine." Gibbs gave him a sideways glance, frowning. "It's a movie, Boss," Tony reiterated. Gibbs snorted and went back to watching the road.

"Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas?" McGee parried.

Tony laughed. "Yeah! 'High-powered mutants…too weird to live, and too rare to die.'"

Gibbs shook his head and stomped on the accelerator. Tony scrambled to hang on as they passed a semi at such a fast clip that it seemed to be standing still.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Tony fell asleep somewhere around Chloride and almost missed the Hoover Dam. He awoke as Gibbs pulled over to park, and although he felt stiff and achy, the rental's seats had turned out to be pretty well padded, to his relief. They both got out to stretch, and Gibbs decided they had time to walk across the dam.

As Tony looked back in the direction of the Arizona hills, he found it hard to believe that only that morning Gibbs had shot down a helicopter there, and had killed the man who had murdered a fellow NCIS agent. Gibbs was following the direction in which he was looking, so Tony gave him a wide smile. "That was a damned good shot, Boss."

Gibbs gave him a nod of acknowledgment and stopped to look down at the rushing water. Tony took a quick look at his wristwatch before peering over the concrete wall to see the river. He thought about a conversation he'd had with Gibbs last night, as they'd sat around the campfire they'd built. He'd looked at his watch, he remembered.

Gibbs had asked, his tone sharp with displeasure, "What time is it in London, DiNozzo?"

Tony had answered mildly, "It's three a.m. Six hours 'til I can make the call."

"You're not gonna be with this agency much longer? You get that inheritance, maybe you'll think about retiring," Gibbs said, as if it were a done deal.

Tony turned to stare at Gibbs, wondering what bug had crawled up his ass, and he'd been about to ask that very question when Gibbs' cell rang. It was McGee with an update, but Tony hadn't even listened in on the conversation, he'd been so angry. Was it too much to expect the man to be at least a little happy for him, even if it wasn't yet certain he'd inherit anything?

Being mentioned in Uncle Clive's will meant a lot to Tony, and not entirely because of the large sum involved. His uncle must have thought well of him to consider him in the first place, although Clive had always had a soft spot for Tony's mother.

Uncle Clive had been a wonderful host the summer before Tony started college. He had shown Tony around London, and they had traveled to France for a week before Tony had to return home, and to Ohio State. Even though Tony hadn't seen his uncle in several years, they'd kept in touch through letters and the occasional phone call, right up to his uncle's death six months ago.

For Gibbs to practically sneer at his expectations annoyed Tony. It was as if he was saying, 'No way would anyone leave you anything, DiNozzo.' That he was being a fool, and was sure to get his hopes dashed. Maybe that would turn out to be true, but Gibbs didn't have to stomp on his hopes so cruelly.

After he'd finished talking to McGee, Gibbs rolled into his sleeping bag without so much as a good night. Tony had found it impossible to get to sleep, and blamed his tossing and turning not only on the cold, rocky ground, but also upon Gibbs' snores. One moment, Tony was thinking he would never fall asleep, and the next, he was rudely awakened by the clatter of the coffeepot and the sound of Gibbs and the Sheriff discussing their plans.

Tony had shuffled around, stooped over like an old man, and grumbling about his aching muscles. Somehow – probably due to those superpowers that Abby was always asserting Gibbs posessed – Gibbs didn't seemed at all affected by the previous day's strenuous horseback riding. While Gibbs was quick to help Boyd break down the camp and saddle the horses, Tony was massaging his butt and wondering if there was any way of getting out of mounting a horse again. When they broke camp and mounted up, the sheriff walked past Tony, muttering, "Tenderfoot."

Getting back on his horse had been a challenge, and it took everything in Tony's power to remain in the saddle on the ride up to the remote cabin.Once they'd located the artist, Dina Risi, riding back down the rocky trail had turned out to be even less fun than the ride up, and when Gibbs said they had to ride as fast as they could, Tony almost gave up then and there. But Gibbs relied upon him to protect Dina Risi, and no way was Tony going to let him down.

"Can you get nerve damage in your buttocks?" Tony asked with a whine.

Gibbs didn't even try to hide his grin. "You're gonna feel worse in the morning."

"Don't say that, please."

They weren't even halfway down the trail when they came under fire from the sharp-shooting killer in a Sunset Mining helicopter. Even as Jerome Sax laid down heavy fire, Gibbs stood out in the open on the trail, dangerously exposed as he took his time to get his shot. It was one of the bravest things Tony had ever witnessed. And the stupidest, too.

Afterwards, with anger spurred on by fear, Tony barely stopped himself from slapping Gibbs on the back of the head for pulling such a reckless stunt. "You didn't have to stand out there in the open. There were plenty of good rocks for cover, Boss!"

"You telling me how to shoot, DiNozzo?"

"I'm telling you that you took an unnecessary chance and you might have been shot," Tony replied heatedly.

"Well, I didn't get shot," Gibbs responded, his tone dismissive.

"No, but the sheriff did, and some of those bullets came damned close, and you were standing there…" Tony choked back the rest of his words. Sending Gibbs a black look, Tony said, between clenched teeth, "Last thing I want to do is drag both of your sorry carcasses all the way down to Phoenix–"

Before Gibbs could light into Tony, Boyd cut in, shouting at them, "Am I gonna spend the entire night lyin' in the middle of the trail?"

Dina grabbed Tony's arm, pulling him away, and between them, they managed to round up the stray horses. The cavalry, in the form of park rangers and sheriff's deputies, had arrived by helicopter, having been notified by McGee in MTAC, and the injured Sheriff Boyd was airlifted to the nearest hospital.

By the time representatives from three environmental agencies turned up to investigate the helicopter crash, Gibbs and Tony had put aside their anger and quickly and efficiently documented the scene. They then arranged for the sheriff's department to handle the transport of Jerome Sax's body to Phoenix, where Dr. Mallard would remotely conduct the autopsy, rather than transport the assassin's remains back to DC.

Gibbs, Tony, and Dina – who had set off the whole chain of events by discovering uranium in the soil she ground into paint pigments – rode the horses down the trail to where they'd left their vehicles.

Tony and Gibbs retrieved their rented 4x4 Jeep from where they'd parked it at the base of the trail, and arrived at the sheriff's department in Phoenix that afternoon. Dina drove the sheriff's horse trailer, now holding four tired horses, to the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office stables. By the time Dina finished giving her statement, she looked ready to drop. From the office Gibbs commandeered at the sheriff's headquarters, the two NCIS agents then dealt with the FBI, representatives of the mining board and other authorities, before finally heading to the airport to get back home.

Dina said goodbye, even going so far as to hug Gibbs, while assuring them she was going to visit Sheriff Boyd in the hospital, and would be staying with friends in town. As a safeguard, Gibbs arranged for the FBI to assign an agent for her protection, until the case was wrapped up.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

It was still light when they drove over Hoover Dam, and Gibbs slowed down enough for Tony to get a view of the massive structure. "Might as well stretch our legs," Gibbs said, pulling over in a parking lot on the Nevada side. It took Tony a couple of minutes to unfold himself from the rental car and by the time he'd stretched his back, Gibbs had ambled ahead. It hurt to move, but Tony hurried after Gibbs, who was looking over the wall at the water pouring from the sluices in the dam.

Gibbs sent a sideways look at Tony. "You still hurting?"

"Only certain parts of me," Tony replied, wincing as he flexed his shoulders. He looked Gibbs up and down curiously. "How come you're not in any pain?"

Gibbs deadpanned, "Who says I'm not?"

"Wow, you're really good at hiding it then," Tony said in admiration.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were good at undercover, DiNozzo."

Flustered, Tony shrugged a little. "Yeah, but only when I'm on the job. This is time off. Besides, horseback riding uses a whole other set of muscles, ones I'm not used to using."

"You've gotta learn to relax and enjoy it. It feels good to have seventeen hands between your legs."

Tony stared at Gibbs, wondering if that comment was as laced with innuendo as he suspected it was. Gibbs held his gaze for a long five seconds, before he turned away and leaned against the high guard rail to peer down at the water cascading through the sluices.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll remember it next time I…ride," Tony replied, watching Gibbs with suspicion. He could have sworn he saw the man's lips twitch, but he blinked and the slight smirk was gone. Gibbs moved along to get a better view of the dam, and Tony glanced at his watch before following him. Tony swore, "Damn!" Gibbs sent him an inquiring look. "I missed my call from London."

"They'll still be there tomorrow," Gibbs replied in a cursory tone.

"It's a seven-hour difference from here, isn't it? Or did you drive so fast you broke the time barrier?" Tony tapped the glass on his Versace watch and made a show of holding it to his ear. Not that he could hear the ticking over the roar of the water. "It's been losing time. I guess I should put a new watch on my shopping list."

"You expecting a windfall?" Gibbs asked, his eyes flinty.

"Well, I won't know for certain until I talk to Mr. Hubbard. Sometime tomorrow." Tony started to calculate the time difference to figure out his window of opportunity. Back in DC, he'd expect to get a call from his late uncle's solicitor by lunchtime, or else he'd have to wait another day.

Gibbs gazed over the impressive river and cliffs of the Colorado River and asked casually, "You never said, are you leaving us?"

Tony wasn't fooled by the offhanded delivery; he could tell Gibbs wasn't happy he might be leaving. "You'll miss me, Boss?"

That made Gibbs turn and look at him, and for a moment he seemed angry, before presenting an impassive stare. Gibbs hesitated, and then said in a surprisingly soft tone, "It seems like I just broke you in."

"I haven't been a probie for some time," Tony gently reminded him. "Eight years. Not that I was a probie when I started at NCIS."

Gibbs gave a small grunt. "It's been that long?" As they walked back in the direction of the car, Gibbs asked, "You take after this uncle of yours?"

"Uncle Clive? Oh yeah." Tony laughed, and proceeded to tell Gibbs about how his uncle had taken him to a gambling club in London when he was barely eighteen, and how he had played baccarat so well that the seasoned gamblers at the table had each bought him a drink. "I read up on the game after seeing James Blond play in Dr. No. Of course my uncle only allowed me to have one drink."

Gibbs gave a crooked smile and said, "Don't tell me. It was a martini, shaken, not stirred." Tony laughed and started to move along, but Gibbs reached out for his arm and brought him to a halt. "Are you leaving me, DiNozzo?"

For a moment, Tony was going to make light of the situation, but Gibbs' troubled expression made him change his mind. "I don't know. Hell, I don't even know how much money my uncle is leaving me, if any. For all I know, he giving all thirty-five million to an old cats' home."

Gibbs stared at him with slightly glazed eyes. "How much?"

"Seventeen million pounds. He made a fortune in North Sea gas, but there's family money, too," Tony said, feeling somewhat self-conscious. "Even if I am lucky enough get any of the family fortune, that doesn't mean my life is going to change drastically."

Gibbs looked at him skeptically. "You sure about that?"

"Okay, so I'd get a nicer place to live, with a working elevator and a pool. And I'd probably buy a car. Or two. It would be nice to be able to buy some things for my friends. I'd definitely like to travel a bit, but…this is all wishful thinking. I can't say what I plan to do at this point." Tony stopped in his tracks when it struck him that his father would be on his doorstep the second he got wind of any inheritance. "I can't let it become general knowledge. If my dad finds out…"

Gibbs grunted in agreement and stared down at the water rushing down the spillway. "You won't stay if you've got money burning a hole in your pocket," he said, sounding sure.

"You think I'd just up and leave everything behind?" asked Tony, a little hurt.

Gibbs turned to look Tony directly in the eye. "You've done it before."

Tony stiffened. "I've stayed at NCIS for eight years now. And, believe me, it's been pretty rough at times." Even when a promotion overseas had been offered to him on a gilded platter, he had remained faithful. Now he was starting to wonder why.

Gibbs bowed his head and sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"You know about…? Oh, of course you do," Tony said sourly. Gibbs might not say much, but he heard everything. "Still, maybe you don't know why I left my previous jobs. I left Peoria for a promotion at a bigger police force, and I moved on from Philly because Baltimore recruited me for homicide," Tony corrected his boss. "They selected me out of a field of a hundred applicants."

"Yeah, I know that," Gibbs said, his words unusually soft. With his eyes shining with pride, he admitted, "You could have had your own team by now, and we both know that." He looked long and hard at Tony and said firmly, "You deserve better but I still don't want you to go."

Stunned that Gibbs would express that sentiment aloud, and curious as to why the man's cheeks would color while uttering those words, Tony was moved to say, "I wasn't planning on leaving, but..." He paused in thought. "But that doesn't mean I haven't thought of teaching film studies, or heading west and seeing what's over the horizon, maybe finding a tropical island with beautiful dark-haired women and long stretches of pristine white sand. I've thought about riding a Harley along Route 66 and trying my hand at writing the great American novel."

"That's not thinking, that's dreaming," Gibbs growled.

"You telling me not to dream? Besides, with the right funding, any dream can become a reality." Tony was used to his boss being annoyed with him, and over the years he had grown somewhat inured to Gibbs' irritated glances, dark glares and tight lips. Tony had always felt a twisted kind of satisfaction for being able to push Gibbs' buttons with such accuracy. But this time, the look Gibbs was giving him held something other than the expected frustration. This time the expression in Gibbs' eyes was so unusual that it took Tony a moment to decipher the emotion that lay deep in those cool blue eyes. There was a sense of. . . well, of loss emanating from the older man. Unable to figure out why Gibbs should be looking as though he had just lost his best friend, when Tony had clearly said he wasn't leaving Gibbs' team, at least not without some serious consideration, he repeated, "But I am not going anywhere."

"You sure about that? Because it sounds like you're ready to buy a one way ticket to Tahiti," Gibbs retorted, sounding decidedly short-tempered and a tiny bit desperate.

Confused as to what was going on, Tony did his best to smile reassuringly. "No, I'm good here. Well, not here in Nevada, because there's valley fever, and scorpions and all that horseback riding, but here, as in DC." Gibbs still seemed skeptical, so Tony said, "I think I've proven my expiration date of two years per job is a thing of the past."

For some reason, that didn't sit well with Gibbs. He looked angrier than ever, and even snorted.

Tony's smile faded. "What? You think otherwise?"

"Why didn't you take that promotion Jenny offered you?"

"I...I didn't want to. I couldn't..."

"You couldn't leave?" Gibbs demanded. "Why not? You were too busy babysitting me, was that it?"

"I couldn't leave, not when you were stumbling around unable to remember things. Why are you so mad? It's the truth. It takes a while to come back from that kind of injury."

Gibbs made an abrupt gesture with his hand, clearly frustrated. "I would've managed. Why do you let everyone think you got fired from those jobs in Peoria and Philly?"

"What? I don't…"

"Ziva thinks you left Philadelphia just as they were about to toss you out on your ear. McGee has made it clear he thinks you're not capable of handling your own team. You put up with their crap for months when I was gone. Why would you do that?"

"Because…" He wasn't going to explain himself. No way.

Gibbs stepped up to Tony and got right in his face, his eyes blazing. "Why?"

"Because they wanted you, and apparently I was a poor substitute," Tony said, more vehemently than he'd intended.

"The hell with what they wanted. You were the boss, Tony. You earned the right to put them in their place," Gibbs insisted.

"We don't all run the ship like it's the first week on Parris Island!"

"But you purposely deceived them."

"I did not!"

"Hell, you do it all the time! You let them think you're something less than you are. What kind of man does that make you?"

"Apparently, one you don't think much of either! Maybe it is time for Tahiti, after all."

Gibbs stared at Tony, and shook his head. "For such a smart man. . .You don't get it, do you?"

Shaking his head helplessly, Tony shrugged. "I don't know what you want from me."

Gibbs stared off into the distance, looking as though he was fighting some strong emotion. Tony wanted to say something, to shake Gibbs, to do something. Instead he waited. After a couple of minutes, Gibbs sighed and said tiredly, "We need to go."

Tony followed his boss to the car, even though what he really wanted to do was hitch a ride in the opposite direction.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~