Saturday, 1641, Rockville Pike, Bethesda, MD

Jimmy tried to remember where the nearest Starbucks was as he headed back to the hospital with the food. He knew he had to get the right coffee, or Agent Gibbs might just shoot him. He was pulling into a right hand turn lane when he heard a siren behind him. He looked in the mirror and realized that the unmarked car with the flashing light was right behind him, clearly pulling him over.

He pulled off into a parking lot, trying to figure out what he'd done. He knew he'd used his turn signal. Maybe he had a bad taillight or something. He parked the car and turned off the engine, then leaned over to dig his registration out of his glove compartment. When he sat up, he looked in his mirror again. The police car had parked across behind him, so he couldn't pull out, but he didn't see the officer inside the car. He looked in the side mirror on his side to see if he was coming up beside him, and he rolled down his window in anticipation.

The passenger door opened suddenly, and Jimmy turned in surprise to find that Brody Harris was lowering himself gently into the passenger seat of his car. "Hello," Jimmy said, his heart starting to speed up. "What are . . ." He trailed off, not wanting to ask the question in a way that might offend his impromptu guest.

"Jimmy, isn't it?" Harris asked, and Jimmy nodded mutely. "I thought so. I connected those glasses with Jimmy Olsen, so I was pretty sure I'd got it right."

"Oh," Jimmy said stupidly. "What do you want?"

"How is Tony?" Harris asked.

"I'm really not sure I should tell you," Jimmy said uneasily. "Detective Harris, why did you pull me over?"

"I don't have your phone number, and I don't even know your last name," Harris said. "And you're the only one of Tony's coworkers that I've actually met."

That wasn't quite what Jimmy had meant, but he didn't think he wanted to point that out. "Look, I have to be getting back."

"Of course, I know," Harris said. "But how is Tony? You know I can't get in, don't you? That bastard Gibbs gave orders. He wants to keep Tony and me apart."

"Right," Jimmy said. Swallowing nervously, he tried to figure out what he should or shouldn't say. "Detective Harris, you gave him a concussion, he had to have stitches."

"It was an accident," Harris replied. "Tony knows that, but how is he? Is he angry at me?"

"Detective Harris, I –"

"Call me Brody, Jimmy," Harris said. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Jimmy had trouble reconciling this claim to be friends with the sharp warning off he'd gotten from Harris on the second time they'd met. "Brody, then. I have Tony's lunch. I need to be getting back to the hospital."

"Give me your phone number, so I can call you later and find out how Tony is," Harris said. Figuring that a phone number was a small price to pay to get Harris out of his car, Jimmy wrote it down hastily. He handed it to Harris and took the envelope Harris gave him in return. "Get this to Tony, please?"

"What is it?" Jimmy asked.

"It's personal," Harris replied. "And here's my phone number. Call me if Tony needs me and I'll find a way past Gibbs' obstacles, even if I have to reveal him for the controlling bastard he is."

"Controlling?" Jimmy repeated.

"Can you honestly say that Gibbs doesn't control every aspect of Tony's life that Tony will let him?" Harris asked.

"Um . . ."

"It's not right. Tony deserves better."

"Okay," Jimmy said. He desperately wanted out of this insane conversation. "I need to go."

"Tell Tony how sorry I am," Harris said.

"I will," Jimmy said. "But I have to –"

"Go, yes," Harris said, giving Jimmy a buffet on the shoulder with a fist. "Get going. I'll see you later." He climbed out of the car, but before he shut the door, he ducked his head back in. "I'll call you later tonight. Don't let Gibbs know we've talked."

Jimmy nodded, eyes wide. Harris grinned at him and shut the door. Jimmy watched the car pull away from his parking spot and let out a shuddering breath. He got back on the road and returned to the hospital without any side stops. He pocketed the card, grabbed the bag from the deli and hurried up to the floor where Tony was. He started to rush past the waiting room, assuming Gibbs was in with Tony, but a voice pulled him up.

"Palmer!"

Jimmy backed up and went into the waiting room. "Agent Gibbs?"

"Where's the coffee?"

Jimmy flushed and then felt cold. "I . . . I didn't get it."

Saturday, 1723, Bethesda Naval Medical Center

Gibbs stared at Palmer as he went from crimson to paper white. He took the deli bag from him and thrust it at Benoit. "What happened?" he asked, guiding Palmer to a seat.

"Detective Harris . . . he pulled me over."

Gibbs squatted in front of the shaken young man, scanning him for injuries. "What did he do?"

"He just wanted to talk," Palmer said. "He wanted to know how Tony was, he wanted my number, he told me not to tell you . . . he said you control Tony too much."

Gibbs absorbed the information, but right now he was more concerned about how Palmer was. "Did he touch you?"

Palmer rubbed his upper arm. "You know, a friendly punch, he said we were friends, but that's news to me. The last time I saw him, he told me to . . . to . . . to stay away from Tony."

Gibbs shook his head. "He didn't hurt you?"

Jimmy shook his head, then he dug in his pocket. "He gave me this for Tony." He held out an envelope and Gibbs held up a finger.

"Stay right there." He got up and went over to the nurse's station. "I need gloves and an unused plastic bag."

The woman blinked at him for a moment, then pulled out a pair of gloves. "I'll bring you a bag. How big?"

Gibbs gestured to give her the idea, took the gloves and returned to the waiting room. Palmer was sitting very still, looking half-alarmed. Gibbs pulled the gloves on and took the envelope from him, looking at it from both sides. It was thick and stiff, like it contained a card, and the size of the envelope, about four by six inches, bore that out. The flap was sealed down, and there was nothing written on the outside. He pulled out his knife and slit the flap open. It was a card. Sliding it out, Gibbs looked at the front. It showed a moonlit city park with a fountain. Inside, the printed message read, "Thinking of You." A note was written over the white space inside the card in neat, masculine handwriting.

Tony,

When you say you want to end things, I know you can't be remembering how good we are together. I can't do without you, and you know you need me. You are my perfect partner. I love your mind and spirit and your body. You make me complete. You know I would never deliberately hurt you. It just made me so angry when your little friend showed up like that and tried to interfere. You know how I feel about other people coming between us. You let people manipulate you so much, I have to keep you safe from people who don't have your best interests at heart, like that bitch and that bastard Gibbs. All they care about is what they want to get from you, and you have so much to give. I freely admit I'm jealous, but who could blame me when the reward is so great? When you come out of there, I want you to come stay with me. I'll take good care of you, and we can talk about what we should do next. Please call me, Tony, I need to hear your voice. I need to know that you don't blame me. I need you.

Brody

Gibbs grimaced and looked up to find the nurse presenting him with a zipper bag. He took it and tucked the card and its envelope inside. He sealed the bag and followed the nurse back to her desk for a permanent marker to label the bag with. Once that was done, he put it in a pocket and went back and got all the details of the encounter from Palmer. Then he left Palmer to Benoit's sympathetic attentions and went into DiNozzo's room.

His agent was lying on his back, staring out the window, demonstrably not asleep. Gibbs walked over and sat down. Neither of them said anything right away, and DiNozzo didn't turn. After a couple of moments, Gibbs spoke. "So, it's a good thing Palmer told me he'd run into Harris before, or I'd be kicking your butt about now."

DiNozzo turned and gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Detective Harris just flipped on his lights and sirens and pulled Palmer over." DiNozzo sat up straight, eyes wide. "He trapped Palmer in a parking lot, got into his car and asked him questions about how you're doing."

"Son of a –" DiNozzo threw the covers off. "I have to go see him and get him to back off. He –"

"You're not leaving the hospital," Gibbs said flatly, and DiNozzo stopped before he actually got to his feet. "And you're damned well not going anywhere near him."

DiNozzo turned, his feet on the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Gibbs, he's not going to listen to anyone but me."

"But he'll listen to you?" Gibbs asked ironically. DiNozzo's jaw tensed, and Gibbs expected some kind of rejoinder, but DiNozzo's shoulders slumped and he looked away. Gibbs nodded. "Now, I –"

"Where's Abby?" DiNozzo demanded abruptly.

Gibbs shook his head, puzzled by the subject change. "By now I'd guess she's back at the office, but –"

DiNozzo shifted back onto the bed and reached out for the phone, dialing a number quickly. Gibbs considered interfering, but DiNozzo seemed so urgent that he decided to observe. DiNozzo's fingers drummed an agitated rhythm on the bedside table for several seconds. Then he said, "Abby, where are you?" He paused, listening. "Good, please, Abby, stay there. Don't leave the office alone, okay? Promise me?" His lips pursed. "Abby, I'm serious."

Gibbs grabbed the phone. "Do as he says, Abbs, I'll explain later."

"Sure Gibbs," Abby said, sounding alarmed.

"You got anything for me?"

"Not a thing, Gibbs, even with Timmy keeping me supplied with caffeine."

"I've got some evidence coming your way shortly, but I've got to go now, Abbs." He hung up and turned to DiNozzo. "Okay, what the hell was that about?"

DiNozzo was looking at him almost fearfully. "Abby is why he punched me." Gibbs blinked at him in surprise, but DiNozzo just drove right on with his words without pause. "I never would have thought he'd involve any of my friends in our conflict, or I would have said something immediately."

"What are you talking about?" Gibbs asked.

DiNozzo grimaced unhappily. "It's hard to explain . . . he came over most Fridays, only I was trying to . . . to distance myself. He'd started getting more and more possessive, and he was keeping track of my movements somehow. Anyway, I told him I wouldn't be available one Friday, but I wouldn't tell him why because it wasn't really his business." Gibbs remained silent. DiNozzo already looked agonized, and Gibbs didn't want to add to it at this moment. "Abby had asked me to a concert, and my car was in the shop, so she dropped me off after out in front of my building."

Gibbs nodded, knitting his brows. "Okay . . ."

"Brody was waiting in my apartment . . . I guess he wanted to know what I was up to, or maybe he thought I was just staying home alone, and he . . ." DiNozzo gave Gibbs an odd, shamed look, then shook his head. "Anyway, he was watching when Abby dropped me off, and she was pretty hyped up and energetic, and she gave me kind of a kiss . . . nothing real, just friendly, but Brody misinterpreted it."

Gibbs contemplated a few of Abby's more enthusiastic greetings of DiNozzo viewed in the light of Harris's insane jealousy and could see where this story was going.

"When I opened my door, it was dark inside. He greeted me with a punch in the face, then pinned me to the wall beside the door. I didn't realize it was him till I managed to hit the light switch. He accused me of cheating on him, and I convinced him that Abby was just a friend. If I'd thought he would do anything to her, I swear, Boss, I would have told you."

"And that's what made you end things?"

"He'd never hit me before," DiNozzo said, and his outrage was clear. "I kicked him out and told him never to come back."

Gibbs nodded. "And then what happened?"

DiNozzo shrugged. "I didn't see him for days, but I got the feeling he was . . ." He blanched as if realizing something. "He must have gotten in during that next week, because it was at the end of that week that I changed the locks. If there were notes in the apartment . . ." He covered his eyes with his hand. "I don't understand what he wants from me."

"He's a stalker, DiNozzo. What does a stalker want?"

"He's a good guy, Boss," Tony protested. "A good guy, and a good cop. I don't . . . I never would have thought he'd misuse his authority like that."

Gibbs shook his head. He'd have trouble convincing DiNozzo that Harris was anything other than a good guy and a good cop unless he showed him the note that Harris had sent by way of Palmer, which he wasn't going to do until it had been properly processed.

Gibbs settled into the chair and considered what DiNozzo had said so far. "What do you think he would have done if he'd found you alone in your apartment?" he asked.

DiNozzo's brows knit and Gibbs could see a shudder run through him despite an obvious attempt to suppress it. "Nothing," DiNozzo said unconvincingly. "He just would have been annoyed that I'd fobbed him off."

"Annoyed?" Gibbs repeated. "And what is Harris like when he's annoyed?"

"What are you getting at?" DiNozzo asked, making a try at normalcy but falling short. "Even good cops get annoyed, Gibbs. You get annoyed."

"I'm getting annoyed right now," Gibbs said, leaning forward, and DiNozzo straightened warily. Gibbs tamped down on his irritation and sat back again. "Tony, what would have happened that Friday night if you had stayed home?"

DiNozzo shrugged. "It doesn't matter," he said. "He just would have gotten on my case for not being available when he . . . when he needed me."

"Needed you?" Gibbs asked. "Needed you for what?" DiNozzo looked away, shrugging again, and he didn't answer. "For sex?" he asked, and DiNozzo flushed. He didn't deny it, though, which was telling. "And if he'd asked for sex?"

"He did," DiNozzo said, looking over at Gibbs with a defiant expression. "He wanted to have sex after I'd convinced him that he'd misunderstood. I kicked him out."

Gibbs gazed at him for several seconds, and DiNozzo met his eyes – at first. Long before Gibbs expected him to, his eyes dropped and he turned away. "DiNozzo, there's something here you're not telling me," Gibbs said softly.

"There's a lot here I'm not telling you," DiNozzo said, his voice shaking slightly. "Because it's private, and I don't want to talk about it."

"Several things you haven't wanted to talk about have come back and bitten you today," Gibbs pointed out, and DiNozzo bit his lip. "You sure you don't want to share?"

"Nothing else concerns anyone but me," DiNozzo replied. He still wasn't meeting Gibbs' eyes. "It's personal, private, and no one's business but my –"

"I'm sure that's how Abby felt about Michael Mawher."

"Actually, I believe Abby expressed herself as not wanting to have the man exterminated."

"She was also embarrassed, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "I assumed you realized that."

"Of course, I realized that," DiNozzo snapped. "But the situations aren't parallel. I keep telling you that, but you keep comparing them anyway."

"Mawher wanted to continue a relationship that Abby had ended, Harris wants to continue a relationship that you've ended. Mawher started following Abby around and breaking into her place. Harris started following you around and –"

"He had a key," Tony pointed out. "My place hasn't been broken into since I changed the locks."

"He still went into your apartment without permission," Gibbs said inflexibly. "Mawher pushed his attentions on Abby when she'd made it clear she didn't want them, Harris has demonstrably pushed his attentions on you when you've made it clear you don't want them."

"I'm not sure I was clear enough," DiNozzo said.

"You told him to go away, you changed your locks, you haven't welcomed his advances at any time since you told him to leave, is all of that right?" DiNozzo nodded unwillingly. "Did you ever say no when you didn't mean it?" Gibbs asked. DiNozzo shook his head, but he seemed oddly uncertain. "DiNozzo?"

"I . . ." DiNozzo shook his head. "I never said it when I didn't mean it," he said firmly.

Gibbs straightened his back, making connections between the shame DiNozzo had been showing off and on, the uncertainty that kept plaguing him over whether he'd been clear and his overall level of jumpiness. "Has he always taken no for an answer?"

"We already know he hasn't," DiNozzo said. "I told him we were done, but he –"

Gibbs raised a hand, and DiNozzo broke off. His whole posture looked apprehensive, but Gibbs wasn't giving up now. "Before you told him you were through, did he always take no for an answer?" DiNozzo didn't respond, and Gibbs felt his gut sinking. Thus far there'd been no indication that DiNozzo had suffered more than unwanted groping and kissing, bad as that was. Gibbs took a deep breath to keep his voice under control. "Tony, it's not a hard question."

DiNozzo looked fixedly out the window. "I wasn't clear enough," he said, and Gibbs closed his eyes. The bastard had raped him, and despite all his training and experience, he was taking the blame onto himself.

"Did you say no?" Gibbs asked, still keeping his voice calm and level.

"I didn't try hard enough to stop him," DiNozzo said obdurately. "If I'd really wanted to stop him, I could have, and I didn't."

Gibbs honestly didn't know what to say. If anyone else had said that to DiNozzo, DiNozzo would have called it rape. When DiNozzo said it about himself, he seemed to think it meant something else. Making that kind of comparison had gotten Gibbs nowhere thus far, however. He shook his head. "Sounds like rape to me, DiNozzo," he said finally.

"I didn't tell him to stop coming around," Tony pointed out.

"Does that make it not rape?" Gibbs countered.

DiNozzo didn't respond immediately, he just stared out the window at nothing. Gibbs was trying to marshal some argument to convince him, but then DiNozzo turned and met his gaze. There was pain in his eyes, and an abiding confusion. "You want to arrest him and put him away, right?" Gibbs just gave him a look that gave his answer, and DiNozzo's lips thinned. "You know what happens to cops in prison," he said, and Gibbs raised his eyebrows, enlightened. That was a reason for DiNozzo's unwillingness to act that he hadn't considered. "I'm not willing to help you put Brody in that position, Gibbs."

"If he's done it before, he'll do it again."

"We only have Preston's word for it that he's done it before," DiNozzo pointed out. "And I wouldn't trust a spook as far as I could throw him." DiNozzo shook his head, looking tired. "Besides, with the evidence we've got to go on, you don't have a prayer of convicting a cop on anything more than assault, even with my help, and even that's iffy."

Gibbs shook his head. "That doesn't mean we let the bastard get away with it."

"As soon as I'm released from the hospital, I'm going to find him and have a talk with him," DiNozzo said. Raising his hand to forestall Gibbs' veto, he added, "I'd appreciate it if you would come with me."

"DiNozzo, I really don't think that's going to make a difference," Gibbs said. "He sent you a note via Palmer that has classic career stalker written all over it."

DiNozzo's expression went blank, then his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "A note?" he repeated apprehensively. Gibbs nodded. "What does it say?"

"Among other things, that he wants you to come stay with him when you get out of the hospital," Gibbs said, and DiNozzo went pale. "He makes the typical excuses and claims. He didn't mean to hurt you, you two are perfect together." Gibbs leaned closer. "DiNozzo, he's obsessed with you, and it's not your fault. From what you say, this has been building for a while."

"He's a good guy," DiNozzo said. "He –"

"He raped you," Gibbs said, hoping the blunt words would get through to his agent. DiNozzo shook his head. "You said no, and he forced you. That's called –"

"Stop!" DiNozzo scrambled out of the bed. "You don't – it's not – I can't do this. Brody saved me from three guys who were going to rape me. He's not a rapist."

The door opened and a nurse came in. She took one look at DiNozzo's position and posture and turned to Gibbs. "Sir, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave," she said.

"It's okay, Ella," DiNozzo said, now looking embarrassed. "He can stay."

"Not if he's upsetting you."

DiNozzo walked over and got back onto the bed, bringing the head up to a fully sitting position. "It's okay, he's my boss." He smiled at her. "I'm not upset."

"Okay," she said, glancing back and forth between them, and Gibbs could tell that he was on notice. If DiNozzo was upset again while he was here, he was out, whether DiNozzo objected or not. She did her checks, made her notations and left, giving Gibbs another stern look.

Gibbs cleared his throat after the door had shut again. "Can you tell me more about that first incident?" he asked. "Maybe that will help me understand."

DiNozzo shrugged. "I told you everything, more or less."

"Less rather than more, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gently, and the younger man grimaced. "When was it?"

"Two or three weeks after Jeanne's last visit," DiNozzo said. "It was a Thursday, I know that, because Brody stayed the following night and into Saturday."

Gibbs considered this. That meant it had been nearly four months since their first encounter. "Okay. You said you couldn't remember where you were when the guy first ran into you." DiNozzo nodded. "Do you remember the guy's name? What he looked like?"

DiNozzo rolled his eyes. "His name was Mark, and I think I heard him call one of his friends Terry. Mark was about your height, built slimly. He had blondish hair and blue eyes. Terry and the other guy were built like tanks, but they were shorter, with dark hair. Terry had kind of dark skin, the other guy was paler. I could probably do composites of them if I had Abby and her computer program."

Gibbs made a mental note to send Abby out with a laptop – and a guard. Maybe if he could find those guys, he could get some ideas about Harris and that first night. "What happened?"

DiNozzo closed his eyes. "What does that matter? It's been months, and if I didn't press it then, there's no chance it will go anywhere now."

"I'm trying to understand this relationship," Gibbs said. "Knowing how it started could help."

Letting out an aggravated sigh, DiNozzo shrugged again. "Fine. The friends dragged me into the alley, I fought back, but with two of them it was a little challenging. Then Mark showed up and I realized that it wasn't a mugging." He paused for a long moment. "They shoved me over a stack of pallets, the two friends holding me while . . ." DiNozzo stopped again, shaking his head. "Boss . . ." Gibbs just raised his eyebrows and waited. DiNozzo grimaced and went on. "Mark reached around and undid my belt and yanked my pants and . . . and my boxers down."

"I thought you said nothing really happened," Gibbs asked, appalled.

"That was it," DiNozzo replied defensively. "Mark copped a feel, I heard his zipper and then he was jerked off me. A minute later, the other two guys took off, and I got my pants back on while Brody whaled on Mark. He got away a minute later, and Brody gave chase. He came back a couple of minutes after to see how I was, and then he drove me home."

"But you'd met him before that, isn't that right?"

DiNozzo nodded. "Yeah, maybe a week or so before, and I'd seen him around. He . . . I just confused him by not . . ." He shook his head. "He's a good guy, Boss."

Gibbs kept his opinion to himself. He didn't think DiNozzo had real feelings for Harris, but any attempt at challenging the bastard's 'good guy' status in DiNozzo's eyes was making DiNozzo close him out. That was the last thing he needed. "Well, I'd better be getting back," Gibbs said. "I'm going to leave Palmer with you for now."

"I don't need a babysitter, Gibbs."

"He's not a babysitter," Gibbs replied.

"No, he's a spy. You told him to get information out of me."

Gibbs shrugged. "You haven't been talking, DiNozzo. You know how I operate."

DiNozzo snorted. "Yeah, you cheat."

"If I have to." He rose. "I'll see you later."

"Is there any chance I've convinced you to stop investigating?" DiNozzo asked. Gibbs just shrugged again. "Right." DiNozzo grabbed the TV remote and turned on the idiot box. Gibbs left him alone, sent Palmer back in with the deli sandwich, and went back to the office. Damn that bastard anyway. He wondered how much of DiNozzo's current confusion was due to Harris's manipulation. Abusers were often exceptional manipulators, and Harris wasn't wrong. It could – if one had the right touch – be extremely easy to manipulate DiNozzo.

Somehow Gibbs had to get his man straightened out before he let Harris destroy him.