CHAPTER 8

Burning Love
~Elvis song

Lord Almighty,
I feel my temperature rising
Higher higher
It's burning through to my soul
Girl, girl, girl, girl
You gonna set me on fire
My brain is flaming
I don't know which way to go

Only things weren't at all normal, as Tony was reminded, once he was dressed in a very expensive suit and was walking into the Navy Yard. He'd just made it through the security checkpoint in the lobby and was heading for a waiting elevator when it hit him: there had been a DVD in the envelope on Gibbs' table. A DVD with the wedding chapel's logo on the plastic case, a likeness of Elvis' face with a background of two entwined hearts. There had been something in the brochure about purchasing a Ceremony Video. As part of the package deal you could choose to have the video posted on YouTube for only $30. Oh fuck! Their ceremony was going to be seen by the entire world on YouTube! Tony & Jethro being married by a crooning Elvis! With his luck, it would probably go viral.

By the time the elevator opened to the squad room, Tony was having a major meltdown. Luckily, he had only taken a few steps across the squad room when Gibbs swooped in, grabbed his elbow, and steered him towards the stairs. "You need to see Ducky," was all Gibbs said.

The whole way down to Autopsy, Tony was babbling about the video and being outed big time. "Now I really need that inheritance money, so I can escape to a deserted island where nobody has even heard of YouTube or the internet!"

Outside the Autopsy doors, Gibbs came to a halt, where he pressed Tony against the wall. "You need to calm down," he growled in Tony's ear.

"But Boss, it'll be all over the building in no time, and everybody'll know and–"

Gibbs slapped his hand over Tony's mouth, and jammed his leg between Tony's, exerting pressure on his groin. "Calm down. Take deep breaths," he intoned.

From behind Gibbs' warm, calloused palm, Tony managed to mumble, "Can't breathe… hand… mouth." He wasn't sure if the thigh pressing against his groin was intentional or not. Knowing Gibbs, it was, to take his mind off the likelihood of their relationship becoming public knowledge.

Gibbs slowly lowered his hand, but he didn't let up the pressure on Tony's groin. "You think you can hold it together now?"

Tony glanced down at where their bodies met. "That feels…really good," he panted, grabbing at Gibbs' crotch.

"Jesus, DiNozzo." Gibbs stepped away, looking slightly shocked.

Okay, so apparently that wasn't a blatant come-on. Tony just about whined, but at that moment Abby came around the corner and stopped as soon as she saw the two men. Swallowing hard, Tony smoothed his hair back and tried to act as if everything was just fine. It didn't appear that he was being very convincing, by the way Abby was looking from Tony to Gibbs, and back, with concern.

"Whatever you two are fighting about, you need to stop it right now."

"Not fighting, Abs," Gibbs said. "Everything's fine."

Tony noticed Gibbs' neck was flushed, and could feel his own face heating up.

"You're a really bad liar for a professionally trained special agent, Special Agent Gibbs," Abby said pointedly. "You can't take it out on Tony, just because he was a pain in the butt up in the badlands."

"I was not! Where'd you hear that?" demanded Tony.

"I've been talking to Dina Risi," Abby replied with a frown, still inspecting the two men as if she was trying to solve a mystery. "Are you sure you're both all right?"

"We're fine," Gibbs said gruffly.

She tapped one booted foot. "Hmmm. Gibbs, you have to remember Tony's not so much a mountain lion, as a house cat, and he doesn't do well far away from the creature comforts of home. You should give him some slack."

Tony protested, "Hey! I did okay. I rode a horse without training wheels, even slept on a rock, although it seems as though all of Arizona is really one big rock and I didn't exactly sleep, because Sheriff Boyd and Gibbs were snoring like a couple of grizzly bears–"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs said abruptly.

"She started it, Boss!"

"Enough! Go and see Ducky," Gibbs ordered.

Abby said, "See, you're barking orders at him, Gibbs, when a gentle touch will get you a lot further."

"You planning to stroke my fur?" Tony teased.

Gibbs glared at Tony, but before he could open his mouth, Abby ordered, "Stop poking at Gibbs, Tony, and Gibbs, you need to say you're sorry for talking to Tony like that." Both men stared at her, because they all knew that Gibbs wasn't prone to making apologies. But Abby nodded in encouragement. "Go ahead, make up. Kiss and make up!"

Luckily, Gibbs did the smart thing and stalked past Abby, straight to the elevator. As he went, he called over his shoulder, "You, go see Ducky. Abby, leave him alone!"

As soon as the elevator doors closed on Gibbs, Abby turned to Tony, grabbed his arm, and asked excitedly, "So, tell me about Arizona, and how Gibbs shot down a helicopter with a Sharps rifle! And all about Las Vegas! Did you go to Cirque de Soleil? Did you see Elvis?"

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Ducky observed Tony over the rim of his glasses as he removed the blood pressure cuff from his upper arm. "Your pressure, my dear boy, is unusually high."

"Must be the result of spending the last thirty-six hours in Gibbs' company," Tony said, absently scratching his bare chest.

"Or the after-effects of whatever was slipped into your drink. Apart from your blood pressure, you appear to be quite recovered."

"I really feel fine, Ducky. Body aches and fuzzy head are all better." Tony smiled as much charm as he could muster.

Ducky, who wasn't so easily taken in, inquired, "And your memory?"

Tony couldn't lie. "Yeah, that's the thing. I vaguely recall Gibbs helping me along the sidewalk, and for some reason I keep humming Elvis tunes, but I'm drawing a blank about getting to our hotel room, or waking up and boarding a plane the next morning. Apparently I was able to walk and talk on my own."

"Yes, Jethro told me that you were mobile, although your eyes appeared to be glazed over. He said you would speak if asked something directly, but you slept the entire flight home."

"Believe me, I wish I remembered. It feels weird that I had conversations I don't know I had," Tony said truthfully. "We don't know what caused this yet?"

"We will know soon. Abby should have the results of the tox screen within the hour. It may reveal nothing, for as you know, the chemical composition of most date rape drugs would have broken down by now, and traces would not be discernable in any test. "

"Did she ask whose fluids she was checking out?" Tony inquired.

"I certainly wouldn't divulge your identities. However, I am sure Abigail's curiosity will compel her to ask for further details, at which point I shall be compelled to lie," Ducky said with a smile. "May I ask, Anthony, what these bruises on your lower back might be? And, if I am not mistaken, you have quite an array of love-bites on your neck." He lightly tapped Tony's bare neck.

Mortified, Tony grabbed his shirt and pulled it on hastily. "You know me and the ladies," he said with a brisk laugh.

"Yes, but none of these bruises are more than a few hours old, and I believe I would have noticed them last night while examining you," Ducky said, sounding disappointed that Tony would lie to him.

Tony felt really bad, but he was unwilling to disclose that Jethro had made the marks Ducky was so interested in. "Look, I'm sorry but…can you just believe me that the hickies and any bruises weren't from a stranger?"

Ducky slowly nodded, but Tony could see the cogs turning in his brain. Any second, the ME would put two and two together.

All of a sudden, Ducky smiled. "Do you know that the word hickie – while the origin is somewhat obscure – was used in the early 1900s to mean a gadget or small device?"

"As in doohickey?" Tony asked, interested despite his need to get upstairs, and to work.

"And you do not wish to share the origin of these particular doohickeys," Ducky said with an amused smile.

Tony shrugged and said vaguely, as he buttoned up his shirt, "Oh, you know…office romance."

"Anyone I might know?"

"Um, yeah, but…we don't want to broadcast it, Ducky. You understand," Tony said hopefully.

"I believe I do, and if I may say so, keeping your affair close to the chest is probably a rather good idea. Of course, if you ever need anyone to talk to, my door is open and my lips shall remain sealed." Ducky nodded wisely.

Tony knew the ME wasn't fooled. "Thanks, Ducky."

Ducky placed a hand upon Tony's shoulder and searched his face. "Are you sure about this, Anthony?"

"I am. I'm fine. And thanks for worrying," Tony said. All of a sudden, he had to smile. "It's not what I expected, but I'm really happy. I'm a bit confused, 'cause it hit us out of the blue, and I had this sort of panic attack earlier, but…it's good."

"I shall keep an eye on things, just to make sure that all parties are treated fairly."

"I appreciate that," Tony said sincerely.

With a brisk nod, Ducky said, "I will let you know as soon as the results are in." He escorted Tony to the door.

"Thanks, for everything."

"Of course, my dear boy. And, a word of advice, tell him to make any future marks a few inches lower."

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Gibbs looked over McGee's report and placed it on top of Tony's. "Good work, everybody. Get everything ready to hand over to the FBI."

Tim immediately protested, "But Boss!"

"C'mon, this is our case," Tony joined in.

"Are any of Sax's other victims sailors?" asked Gibbs, already knowing the answer was 'No.' "Not our problem then. Our investigation is limited to the murder of Special Agent Patterson, and we are closing the case. Everything else goes to the FBI."

Ziva finished a phone call and said to Gibbs, "I am to pass on the news that Sheriff Boyd is recovering from his injuries, and he is annoyed that we have not yet returned his Sharps rifle to him."

"He'll get it back as soon as Abby has finished with it," Gibbs replied. He was currently filling out forms in triplicate for having discharged a weapon that was not his own, and for shooting down a helicopter and causing two deaths, one of which was the man who had killed NCIS Agent Patterson.

Ziva raised her eyebrows at Tony. "The sheriff also wanted to know if you have recovered from your sore ass."

Tony sent his report to the printer and carefully walked over to gather the printed pages. He returned to his desk and sat down as normally as he could. "I'll have you know my ass is fine."

Leering at Tony, Ziva said, "I am sure you have a fine ass, Tony, even if it is a hairy butt, but…"

Gibbs interceded, saying sharply, "DiNozzo held his own out there, and unless you have something to say about the case, Ziva, I don't want to hear it."

Ziva appeared slightly taken aback at Gibbs' sharp tone, but she backed off, as instructed.

Tony smiled at Gibbs, basking in the rare praise. "Why, thank you, Boss."

Gibbs grunted and demanded, "Paperwork?"

"Just coming up," Tony said. He jotted a couple of notes at the end, and took the paperwork over to Gibbs.

Gibbs looked up and smiled at Tony, a twinkle in his eye. "Ducky cleared you. He told me off, though."

"He means well."

"Yes, he does," Gibbs replied. "He gave me advice on the location of some doohickey."

"Ah, yes, me, too."

Gibbs lowered his voice to a near whisper. "He also threatened me with his forceps if I step out of line."

Tony suppressed a smile. "I'd have liked to seen that."

Gibbs looked up at him, his expression sincere. "Just letting you know, I won't."

"I trust you." Tony managed to keep a neutral expression on his face as he did an about face and returned to his desk. He had an inbox full of emails to go through, and there was the usual office paperwork to deal with as well, something he was not looking forward to doing.

Gibbs fielded a phone call and rose to his feet as soon as it was over. All three members of his team looked expectantly at him, but Gibbs gave a slight shake of his head, and crooked a thumb over his shoulder. "DiNozzo, you're with me."

Unsure if he should feel favored or fearful, Tony followed Gibbs without question. As the elevator doors closed behind them, Tony heard Ziva and McGee asking each other what Tony could be in trouble for.

Gibbs stared straight ahead until Tony ventured to ask, "Am I in trouble? You're not going to squash me against a wall again, are you?" He sent Gibbs a hopeful look.

"I get the feeling separating work from our private lives isn't going to be as easy as I thought," Gibbs said with a sigh.

"If you'd like to continue what we were doing earlier, when we got interrupted, I'm up for it. Once we get off work, of course," Tony said, amused.

"I'll keep that in mind. We got the toxicology tests back."

"Good or bad?" Tony asked.

The elevator doors opened and Gibbs stepped out with Tony on his six. "Abby didn't say. Ducky didn't tell her they were ours," he assured Tony.

"Good." Tony was worried because, if he knew Abby, she'd have already figured out this wasn't part of a case, and that the blood samples were theirs. "What if she…?"

Gibbs took Tony's arm and guided him a little way down the hallway, out of sight of Abby's lab. He pulled a chain out from the neck of his shirt, with his wedding ring hanging on it. "If she finds out, then we get to wear these out in the open," Jethro said.

Tony patted his inside breast pocket, where he'd stashed his ring. It was wrapped in a small cloth meant for cleaning eyeglasses, and although he liked having it sitting so close to his heart, it would be safer to keep it at home.

The rings seemed important to Jethro. Marriage was important to him, even if he'd made some regrettable choices with his previous marriages. Suddenly, Tony wanted, very much, to be able to stop hiding, to openly call Jethro Gibbs his husband, and he had a feeling that Jethro felt the same way. Tony reached out and took his hand. "I've been thinking…maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, letting people know."

"Maybe not," Jethro agreed, smiling at him in a way that Tony could honestly say he'd never before seen him smile. Not while on the job, or for that matter, anywhere that he could recall. It was a really nice smile, a warm one that lit up Jethro's whole face. Tony couldn't help but smile back in the same manner, feeling something good and secure settle in his heart.

"Talk about it tonight?" asked Tony.

"Is this gonna be a regular thing? This talking?"

"Might do us both some good," Tony pointed out.

Gibbs nodded. "Okay. Baby steps, though." He led the way into Abby's lab, where they were greeted by the usual ear-splitting noise that she called music. By now, however, Abby knew enough to turn it off the moment she saw Gibbs approach.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs! And Tony!" Abby rushed over and pulled Gibbs over to her workstation.

Tony followed, looking over her shoulder at the screen. He read, "R-CH(NH2)COOH-fermentation–…Wait a minute, is that the formula for GHB, carbon monoxide and…?"

"Oooh, Tony took Chemistry 101!"

"Actually, it was Advanced Chemistry, just in case I pursued pharmacology."

"Really?" Abby looked at Tony with interest.

"The truth is, I only took the class because I was interested in Ms. Brewster, the hot science teacher, and besides, the guys in Shroomery Club needed to brush up on chemical compounds and–" There was an abrupt slap to the back of Tony's head, bringing his babbling to an end. "Sorry, Boss."

With a straight face, Gibbs reached over and smoothed down Tony's hair where his slap had ruffled the short strands.

Amused, Abby said, "Shroomery Club? You have to tell me more."

"What are we looking at?" Gibbs asked, getting to the point.

Gibbs' sharp tone brought Abby back to the matter at hand. "Okay, the blood samples Ducky gave me to process contained traces of a natural version of GHB, yeast and a lot of MSG. Home-brewed GHB."

"Natural?" Gibbs asked.

"I've read about this. If you add MSG to beer, cider or wine, the yeast will metabolize the MSG into GHB. It's very simple to do, and the ingredients are easy to find. The result is a euphoric buzz similar to the chemically created version of a date rape drug. The problem, and it's a huge one, is there is no way to regulate how potent the mix is going to be, and there have been reports of home brewers getting blackouts after drinking only two pints of hard cider. Whoever this blood belongs to? I'd say one of these donors must have been having a high old time, because even after twenty-four hours, there was a large amount of GHB remaining in his blood. Sample #2 wasn't as bad, but you can never tell how an individual will react to an unregulated substance like this."

Gibbs was glowering at her. "So it's dangerous," he stated.

"Well yeah, but don't assume that the brewer knew how strong this was, unless he sampled it himself. Oh, does this blood belong to the brewer?" She looked from Tony to Gibbs for an answer, but Gibbs had already turned on his heel and left the lab.

"Something like that," Tony said. "Catch you later, Abs!"

"Don't forget to call me the minute you hear about your inheritance," she called after Tony.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~